Unlicensed Babysitter

Unnecessary Roughness

Mariam and Richard, unfortunately, leave Emma and I alone in her room. Mariam said it was so that we could get to know each other better but I was a little suspicious. Mariam wouldn't leave alone with an inanimate object, much less a living person. She was a stickler like that. But the she gave me a very specific look, and I let it all slide. She wants to be alone with Richard, for what I could guess, but I wasn't going to get in her way. At least one of us will be having fun. Kinda sucks that it's not me.

Huffing in defeat, I drag two chairs next to Emma's bed, one to sit in and the other to hold my resting feet. All I have to do is sit here and make sure she doesn't die so why not be comfortable while doing it? I doubt anyone will try anything here, anyway. The place is crawling with guys looking for an excuse to body check someone. I would probably think twice before attempting an assault. Probably. I'm not so smart when it comes to assault tactics. Mariam says I'm more of an 'attack now, ask questions if I'm still alive later' type of person. Lucky for me I've always lived to ask questions later, and give Mariam near heart attacks in the process. Why she hasn't learned to make attack plans faster is beyond me.

Hiding an amused smile, I bring myself back to the present. Emma is reading again, her bookmark twirling in her fingers and her book open on her lap, so the room is silent. So silent I can hear the slight chatter going in outside. Mariam's voice finds me, as does Richard's, and I can hear a nurse somewhere calling for a Dr. Rodriguez. It's all boring to me.

I shift my feet on my chair and peek at Emma from the corner of my eye. The small bandages on her face aren't hindering her appearance but they're definitely not enhancing anything either. Somehow, though, she still looks beautiful. It has to be her hair. I'm fairly certain she did her hair just so she can still look lovely and have her pride. Maybe the accident and all her pains made her feel self conscious. I can't exactly fault her for that.

Since she obviously wont talk to me, I lean over to the foot of Emma's bed to grab her chart. I want to see how she's fairing and the best way to find out is to read her chart. She doesn't say anything to me so I flop back in my chair and start to scan her doctor's scribbly handwriting. Turns out I was wrong about her leg. It's badly bruised and cut, but not broken. Most everything on her, and in her, is bruised, but how in the world did she live with nothing broken or sprained? She must have an angel looking out for her, one that's working overtime. And what about the blood I clearly remember around her head at the scene of the accident? I'll be surprised if she only has one of those surface cuts that bleed tons but are really hair thin and not even as deep. She must, seeing as there isn't a bandage around her head. According to her chart she does have a small concussion, though. But the doctor recommended rest and Tylenol so Emma is just fine.

Satisfied with Emma's functionality I put her chart back where it belongs then sigh and slide down my chair. Is this all I'm going to do for the remainder of my guarding duties? Make sure Emma doesn't get a paper cut? This most definitely was not what I was modified for. I could be putting a radical zealot into the ground or bringing down a terrorist. Surely some over privileged white boy is planning to shoot something up somewhere. They always are. Well, I guess I'm not that lucky.

Accepting my fate, I discretely watch Emma read until my eyes get tired. It's not exciting at all but I have to admit that it's somewhat intriguing to see the expression on Emma face change with every plot twist. She smiles every once and a while, clearly enjoying the words on the pages, and her eyes sparkle when she reads something amusing. I find myself smiling along with her, wondering what her book is about. It must be good if she seems to forget that I'm in the room with her. I want to know what the book is but I can't see the cover or the spine. Puckering my lips, I just continue watching Emma's face. It's blank, now, making me think that the book has gotten boring. Maybe the subject matter is something unsavory?