Perfection

Chapter 1 - Mrs Young

One step. One step was all that was needed to start this spiral of events that she had never even thought of facing. One step from the safe sidewalk to the busy street of loud and honking taxicabs, one step towards both secrets and truths to be revealed.

She could still hear the woman's voice, like a whisper right next to her ear. Prompting her to do it, to go, or rather to let go. To let go of everything that she was, everything that she had become and everything that she had regretted. To end it, once and for all, and leave nothing behind but her last wish. One step, out of the waiting crowd, just one..

Tap, heels against the asphalt, turn, stare, exist, let go, let go... The loud crash echoed through the small town as her body hit against a black Mercedes, leaving the crowd she had left behind in screams. As the wind moved her dark brown hair away from her face to reveal to everyone who she was, a great deal of pointing and mumbling seemed to travel across both sides of the street, followed by absolute silence and darkness.

#

The rough feeling of asphalt against her back had been replaced with the comfort of a mattress as she finally opened her eyes again. The first thing she spotted was a window, and the sunlight that entered between the curtains was bright enough to make her eyes sting, reminding her that she had an awful headache. Even though the sunlight had left her vision full of yellow spots, there was no doubt about it; only one place could smell this much of disinfectants and rubbing alcohol. She was in a hospital.

With a slight moan, she turned her head on the fluffy pillow to gaze over at not only one but what seemed like at least a dozen of colorful bouquets, all with small notes dangling peacefully in front of her. The one closest to her read 'We would've sent you chocolate, but we know that you're allergic. Hopefully the flowers are enough. Get well soon, the Youngsters fan club is cheering you on!'  The Youngsters, she mumbled to herself, what was that? A football team?

“Melanie?” A man exclaimed from the other side of the room as he hurried over to her bed.

Melanie. Right. It was slowly coming back to her. Small pieces of memory, though mostly drowned out by worries of her late homework and unnecessary facts from her last history report. Narrowing her eyes to avoid the sun, she gazed over at a slightly chubby man whose thick black glasses balanced at the tip of his nose, above a mustache that resembled a slug more than anything else. He reminded her an awful lot of the janitor at school, just a few decades younger.

“Oh, honey..” He began, and the glasses threatened to fall off from his plum like nose as he spoke.

“I've been so worried. You've been slipping in and out of consciousness for days.” He reached his hand out to touch her cheek and soon the smell of fertilizer lingered under her nose.

Why was the janitor lookalike calling her honey, and more importantly, why was she in a hospital with an intense pain traveling across her forehead? Not to speak of the bruises on her arms and the IV needle stuck to her right hand. She moved the quilt away from her legs to reveal even more bruises and a fractured ankle which had been wrapped up in a neon green cast.

The silence was broken as not only one but three police officers entered the room. All three of them seemed quite out of breath, as if they had just fought their way past security. Before any of them had the chance to speak up, a nurse entered the room.

“Like I said, officer..” She huffed, as a sign that she had been chasing them down the corridor.

“You are in no place to remove our patient from the hospital!”

One of the officers raised his right hand to hush her, before he threw a glance at Melanie and raised his voice:

“Melanie Young, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can and will be used against you in the court of law.”