How I ran away

How I lived

The bed is warm and I am almost comfortable. The thin lumpy mattress and barely bearable pain in my shoulder prevent me from being fully contented. Ow. I put my hand to my shoulder to take away some of the pain but my shoulder is covered.

                Where am I?

                The hospital. The sterile white everything that surrounds me answers that immediately.

                I sit up. My head spins. I push the thin blanket off. I’m dressed in a hospital gown. All the bloody remains of my clothing are gone. I swing my legs over to the side of the bed and move to stand up. Something restrains me. An IV attached to my arm. I rip it off and stand. Take a step. The world is spinning. Swirling. I lean onto the white wall to steady myself.

                It is night. How long was I out for? I remember snatches. Being pulled into the ambulance. The doctor with his needle, ready to sew up my shoulder. If you don’t let me save you, I’ll kill you.

                The threat. Yes, he called the ambulance to save me but I refused his help. it was like I insulted him. A personal insult, someone refusing his help.

                And now he is going to kill me.

                But not now. I push that off. Not now can't bother me. Other people threatened to kill me.

But they weren’t Dan Van Zyl. They say he comes like a shadow in the night. Invisible and then he makes the kill. A whisper. Gone. He kills clean. He kills dirty. Whatever he is paid to do.

Now he’s on his own mission. The next time I face him, I will most certainly die if I don’t find a way to outsmart him. And I don’t think that’s possible.

Murderers. They make threats against me every day. They come after me all the time. Why weren’t they here now? as soon as that question comes to mind I take a defensive stance. I need to switch from the hospital gown. I look to fragile like this. Defenseless. Weak.

Light from the half moon shines through the open window. It spills across the white tile floor like silver paint. I take a step into the light and watch my silver moonlit skin. Mesmerized. Hypnotized.

I shake my head to clear it up. That just makes me more dizzy. I ignore that and take a few steps, closing the distance between me and the window. This is just the second floor of the eight storey hospital.

Downstairs is a risk. Go out through the front door is never a good move. It is expected. Never do what is expected.

That is why I don’t climb down from the window. There is an easy path down with the bricks jutting out the side of the structure. I’ll be waylaid before I finish my decent. No. I must do what is not expected.

Jumping off the roof is not expected.

I work out the angles from the window. Yes. I could do it. Climb the wall from outside to the roof or go up the stairs or elevator inside? Inside. The moon illuminates the whole side of the building. If anyone is looking out, I will most certainly be spotted. And inside I could call for help.

Am I terribly paranoid? No. There are really people out there to kill me, I reassure myself. How reassuring.

But nothing stops me up the steps. Nothing gets in my way. Nothing. Unless you call the concerned nurse a problem. I tell her I need to stretch my legs and run away before she can question me further. It’s all taking a toll on my strength. Slowly sapping energy. Although I could do it. I will myself to ignore the pain shooting up my shoulder and the dizziness affecting my head. Ignore it.