Eliott Price Should be Dead

thirty two - a w k w a r d

My eyes lift open with all the energy I can provide. They still feel heavy.  After a few moments, I close them again.

My mouth is dry and all I see is drop ceiling tile.

"Dehydration," I hear a familiar voice say, but it's too exhausting to try and figure it out.

I try to lick my lips but there's not enough saliva and everything tastes like sand.

"Okay, bye," the voice says again.

"Bye," I croak, straining just to swallow shortly after.

"It's me, Kylie. You passed out from dehydration. Apparently it was pretty severe..."

I groan and push air out of my nostrils in a huff, uncomfortably shifting around on the hospital bed mattress.

"Did you hear me?" Kylie asks, her voice raising a bit louder.

I furrow my eyebrows together from the raise in her voice. "Yes," I mutter.

"The doctor will be back shortly," she tells me.

I try opening my eyes again and actually get somewhere this time.

I turn my head to the left and look at Kylie, who is turning a page in a magazine, seemingly oblivious to me.

"Why are you here?" I quietly ask her.

"Ivan," she responds without lifting her eyes from the pages of the magazine, "he called me from your phone and the two of us carried you into a taxi so we didn't have to cover an ambulance fee. You're welcome."

I turn my head back to face the ceiling and hear the rustling of Kylie next to me. There's a few IV's attached to my arms, pumping me with who knows what.

"So now that you're awake, I'm going home," Kylie tells me as she begins walking towards the door.

"Yo, wait, what happens now? I can't afford this medical treatment. I don't even have a penny to my name!"

Kylie shrugs and stops mid-step, shrugging slowly. "Figure it out, kid. Maybe your boyfriend can help you out."

I clench my fists in the sheets and watch Kylie walk out, examining what else is going on in the hallway. I feel better and just want to get out of this bed, but I feel trapped.

The doctor quickly enters my room with a clipboard and pulls the curtain so it's just me and him. His eyes dart from the clipboard to me, then back again. He is a skinny man, probably close to 60, with salt and pepper hair.

"Hello, Eliott. I'm Dr. Valinski. Glad to see you're awake," he says with a quick smile at the end of his sentence.

I awkwardly chuckle and stay helpless in the hospital bed, waiting for what he will say next.

"Good news is that you should be able to leave in a few hours. Bad news is that you were severely dehydrated - it's important to drink water. Eight ounces a day."

I nod obediently and watch Dr. Valinski scribble some things on his clipboard. His lips quiver as he writes, clearly focusing pretty hard.

"Is that all, Doctor?" I ask with wide eyes, already antsy enough to leave.

"That is all. Please remember to take care of yourself. If I were you, I'd go get some bloodwork done since you do not have any on record."

The doctor pulls the curtain back open and washes his hands thoroughly before leaving.

After four more hours, I'm released from the emergency room and placed on the sidewalk in front of the entrance like a chess pawn.

Pick your next move, player!

I feel a bit dizzy and unsteady, but that was something the charge nurse went over with me before I left. I was told to go home and rest before returning to my normal activities.

I sit down on the curb and light a cigarette — a normal activity.

I savor this cigarette and take my time inhaling and exhaling. The sun is beginning to set and I'm becoming more and more exhausted as the minutes pass. Ironically, the cigarette cures the dizziness I was feeling.

Suddenly I get a flashback to the time Ivan had to get stitches in his hand and we got out of this stupid emergency room so damn late at night.

He was stubborn as hell.

I run my fingers back through my hair and finish my cigarette, throwing it into the gutter where it rolls down into a storm drain.

I begin walking back to the apartment where I used to live with my two best friends. On the way, I notice a convenience store is hiring.

I push the door open and go up to the counter, where a young woman with greasy hair is standing.

"I want to apply for a job. I saw you have the help wanted sign in the window."

The woman blankly stares at me, waiting a few moments before speaking. "You're hired. Come back tomorrow at 2pm. You're doing second shift."

I smile and tip my head. "Thank you. Is that all?"

"What do you mean 'is that all?' You're hired," she dryly tells me once more.

I politely smile one more time as I head out the door. Mentally, I take a note of where this corner store is located so I go to the right one tomorrow.

"2pm, tomorrow," I whisper to myself as I watch one foot go in front of the other.

"Talking to me?"

I jolt and stop mid-step, tilting my head up to look at this guy who is about 6'5" and skinny as a string bean.

"No, just to myself... sorry about that," I awkwardly say as he doesn't move back, his body heat intruding into my personal space.

"Okay. Watch where you're going," he bluntly states.

"Honestly, not sure where I'm going, but I will from now on," I tell him with an awkward chuckle.

He sidesteps out of the way and gives me room to walk. I continue onwards and peek over my shoulder, noticing him doing the same.

I quickly turn my head forward and shake out the awkward feeling he gave me.

a w k w a r d.