One Ring to troll them all

Of Silver Nights and Golden Sunshine

12 years ago

I knew this place.

I was in the hallway of the hospital my family always went to, wondering when my parents would come out so that we could finally go eat something. I was starving.

You see, a cousin of my father's had given birth to a healthy baby boy just three days before, and my parents had been absolutely excited to meet the newest addition to the family. My father was also the baby's godfather, so there was that too, I supposed.

They let me see the baby and even hold him for some time - admittedly, he was very cute - but in the end, I was told to wait outside for them to finish discussing boring, adult matters. I was perfectly happy to comply. My feet were killing me.

So, here I was, sitting on one of the waiting chairs closest to the room where my father's cousin was while I swung my legs like the seven-year-old I was.

I ignored the rumbling of my stomach, focusing on the sounds I could hear coming from the closed door in front of me. It didn't seem as if they were saying anything worth listening to. Something about not sleeping and babies crying...yeah. The usual, regular, baby-talk, boring stuff.

I huffed, not wanting summer vacation to ever end. August had just begun, but time always passed too quickly for my liking. I also wasn't looking forward to visiting Grandma's house. It had been quite a long time since I had seen her - I must have been three years old or so - but even though I was very young, I still remembered it as if it were yesterday, and that woman was just too weird.

Well, she could have been worse. At least she didn't treat me like a child, like most people did. Adults often considered themselves smarter than children just because they were older, and they always treated them - and consequently, me - with a condescending tone because of that, which was annoying.

My parents and teachers at school were always amazed by my maturity, as they often referred to it, but I didn't really see what was so special about it. Sure, I found most things easy to understand and I wondered why kids my age were so childish all the time, but that didn't make me special. It just made me... well, a little peculiar.

Maybe visiting Grandma wouldn't be so bad after all.

Like called to like and all that.

A sound of voices and steps of people coming towards me brought me back from my musings.

I tilted my head in confusion. Why would anybody be coming this way? The maternity ward was pretty far from the other departments in the hospital, this one even more so - my parents had a lot of money, but so did the rest of the family. After all, Grandma had wanted all her grandkids and their families to live comfortably. Odd she may be, but it was clear she loved all of us dearly. And with so much money to spare, my cousin (once removed) got the whole private wing all to herself.

Which is why I was so surprised when a bunch of doctors - because with all those white coats, what else could they be? - appeared from the hallway, engaged in what seemed to be an enlightening discussion about something or the other.

I turned my gaze towards the door of my cousin's room and blinked in confusion.

I was pretty sure the door had been white. But it was grey now.

I rubbed my eyes and looked again, as if I expected the door's color to return to what it was before. I stared at the plaque on the door and checked that the name on it was, in fact, my cousin's. It was. And I could still hear my parents talking inside.

I scratched a tingling spot behind my ear and shrugged. Whatever.

"What are you doing here alone, kid?" A man's voice asked near me, and I turned to see one of the doctors from before had stopped next to my seating spot, probably confused why a seven-year-old was staring at a hospital room door with such a dumb look on his face.