Chapter Nine

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(Flashback continued...)

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The ride to the hospital was horrifying. It was a big mistake letting Red drive Herbie. I flew against the seatbelt each time he braked, and my head seemed to detach from my neck each time he hit the gas. He was driving mad, overtaking every car that was ahead of us. I didn’t even have time to complain because I was busy imagining the worst accident scenarios in my head. I pictured out my mother and brother crying after discovering our crumpled bodies from the car wreck, and my ghost self looking at my earthly body inside a pink coffin.

Miraculously, we finally pulled over inside the hospital grounds alive. Red hurriedly climbed out of the car after throwing me the keys. He didn’t ask me to tag along but I automatically stepped out of the car to follow him. I grew really curious and I couldn’t control myself.

“Melinda Daniels.” He inquired at the information desk.

The nurse gave him the room number after a few seconds and he strode towards the elevator, not even noticing that I was on his tail.

“Why are you still here?” He exclaimed when he finally noticed me as I stepped into the elevator with him.

I was thinking of an excuse as to why I followed him when the metallic door closed.

“Uhm…” I started, clearing my throat. “My feet dragged me here. I don’t know?” I said, feeling uncomfortable.

Maybe he was right. I am a stalker.

His brow raised, obviously not buying my excuse, but before he could respond, the elevator chimed signaling the opening of its door.

We stepped out of the platform and I followed Red as he dashed across the corridor.  I kept my distance and watched him stopped in front of a door. He opened it without knocking and went inside. The door was shut and the sound filled the narrow hallway.

Instead of following Red inside, I plunked myself down on a long, backless, and cushioned bench that was placed against the wall.

I hated hospitals. There’s always that draining feeling whenever I was in one. When I was a kid, I caught a flu and my mother confined me in a hospital. She said I would get better there but it didn’t happen soon. The white walls and ceiling of the place made me weaker and I felt like dying. I could taste water than my food and my stomach never agreed on anything so I always end up constipated. My mother agreed on taking me home at last after I convinced her that I would never get better in that dreadful place. It was alright with my doctor, obviously because it was just a flu. I really didn’t understand then why mom would always freak out whenever my brother and I got sick. Maybe she was just scared of losing any of her children after my dad died. After two days at home, my flu went away.

“Good evening, young lady. Who’s your patient here? The visiting hour is almost over.”

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked up to see a man smiling at me. He was wearing a white coat and his name tag said Dr. Richard A. Baggins. Surely he was a doctor but I didn’t see any stethoscope around his neck.

He stood there, waiting for my reply.

“Good evening. I didn’t come here for a patient. I was just accompanying my… friend?” I said, glancing at the door where Red went through.

“Are you sure you’re a friend? I didn’t know Red has one.” A smirk grew on his face, highlighting the fine lines that defined his age. He was probably around forty or something.

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