Darcy // h.s

19: Hospital

  I never liked hospitals. The intoxicating smell of hand sanitizer and their awful cafeteria food, the beeping of monitors, hearing someone cough every second. But the worst part for me was when you went to visit someone and you had to pass all of the rooms of the sick and dying, knowing one day that could be you.

  My hatred for hospitals grew about a month ago. When the police came to the house, the first thing that happened to me was being forced in a stretcher. My hands and feet were locked in place, and I had no idea what was going to happen to me. I had to get an elbow replacement and went in physical therapy for about two days. At night they would close the blinds and shut the lights off, and all that could be heard were monitors and the sound of me breathing. It horrified me that I was alone, and at any moment someone could break through the window and take me.

  "You've got to let us in there!" Zayn demanded, his fist coming down on the receptionist's desk. She barely glanced at him before turning back to her computer screen. I nervously clutched onto the small necklace I was wearing, gripping on to the little heart on the chain.

  "You can't go visit the patient unless you are related to them, sorry." The lady said. Her voice was so monotone it was nearly sickening, but all I wanted to do was see Harry. The last time I had seen him was almost two hours prior, and blood came out his leg like a fountain.

  "We are related to him." Niall said, trying his best to cover up his strong Irish accent. The lady laughed, and when she did it came out more like a wheeze.

  "Please, honey, you're not fooling anybody. The rest of you can go." The receptionist said. Niall groaned, but Tiff kissed his forehead and whispered something to him. Louis had grabbed my hand as I was pulled back down the hallway as Tiff and Niall found a spot to sit at in the small waiting room.

  It felt weird holding Louis's hand, because I hadn't even spoke one word to him before. He held my hand tightly, though, and I began to realize that he wasn't trying to help me. He needed someone to be there for him.

  The lady from the front desk led us down the long hallway until Niall and Tiff were out of sight, and the wave of hand sanitizer hit me all at once. I felt so awful for Harry. This was all my fault. If I wasn't so bullheaded he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. If I hadn't left the party then none of this would have even happened. I would have much rather saved his life and have him not kiss me then be where we were right now.

  I didn't look to either side of me as we passed rooms of people. It hurt to see people in such unstable conditions. My hand shook, and Louis held it even tighter. He turned to me and slowly inches his face to my ear.

  "It's okay, Darcy, pinky promise." He said, holding out his pinky. I locked it with his, but neither of us let go. If I felt weird holding Louis Tomlinson's hand a few minutes ago, it felt even weirder locking pinkies with his and strolling around a hospital with him.

  Finally, after it felt like hours of walking through plain white halls, the receptionist ushered us into a room before informing us that she'd be at her desk if we needed her. I stopped dead in my tracks when we got to the doorway. I couldn't do this. I couldn't look at him. I wouldn't.

  "It's alright. Harry will be completely fine." Liam said.

  "No." I said firmly.

  "Yes, he will. Come on." Liam said. He pushed my back lightly so that I was forced into the room. All around me where white walls, and a giant monitor beside a bed with white sheets. There were tubes going every which way, and they seemed to be never ending. On the left wall there was a bulletin board with the name Harry Styles written in bold lettering. I wanted so badly to rip it off the wall and pretend like everything was okay.