The Waiting Room

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His wife had been taken to the hospital minutes after her car accident. She had been paying attention to the road, she always has. Some drunk driver was the result of her crash. When he was called in about what happened, he had cried.

They had told him that he was allowed to stay in her room. They told him that it would take a miracle for her to survive with how bad the accident was. He had sloppily places on his jacket and shoes before heading to his car.

The sight of his vehicle he had for more than 3 years made his stomach churn. He couldn't help but think if only he had offered to drive her. If only he had told her she should wait a few more minutes before leaving.

He blamed himself for the accident. But then he also felt burning hatred towards the person who had been drinking. Why did people find it necessary to get intoxicated while driving? People from even elementary were told about drink driving, and yet they never listened.

No one would care about his wife's injury except him and her family. No one cared about these types of things until it happens to them. He punched his fist into the side of the steering wheel at a red light, frustrated with everyone and everything.

If his wife died, they would never have the family they had always dreamed of having. They would never get that dream house one day, and there would no longer be a chance for them to go out every Friday and watch a movie at the theater.

The pain ate away at his heart as glassy tears slid down his cheeks. His hand hurt from the punch, but could care less. The punch would never hurt as much as his heart at the thought of losing the best wife he'd ever have.

The hospital parking lot was surprisingly empty, but he had cared to notice. He hadn't even bothered to lock the car up as he slammed the door shut and sprinted into the entrance of the hospital. The lights were an unhealthy shade of yellow and the walls had faint stains on them.

The floor was dirty, barley even scrubbed enough to get rid of disgusting substances from the past. He had rushed to the desk and saw a sickly pale woman sitting in the beaten down chair. Her black hair was long but very thin, a few dead strands on her nurse outfit.

"How may I help you sir?" The woman asked.

Her voice was monotone and stayed the same note when she talked, almost as though she was a robot and not human. He ignored this though and cleared his throat.

"My wife was in an accident and I would like to know which room she's in." He stated simply.

The woman's eyes were a pale blue, a glassy look in her expression. The place was eerily silent and the lights flickered. If he knew before hand which hospital his wife was being thrown into, he would have told the ambulance he would prefer a more hygienic hospital.

After all, his wife deserved the best and nothing but the best. The woman eventually looked up, and the gaze she gave sent unnoticed chills up his spine.

   "Your wife's name please." The woman said.

   "Marilyn Rose. She's 28 years old if that helps at all," He replied.

   "Mm-hm."

   His lips were dry and he felt as though he was dehydrated. His foot tapped rhythmically and he leaned against the desk. Anxiety and worry was the only thing he felt and desperately just wanted to see his wife.

   "Do you guys have some water around?" He asked.

   "No sir, we do not." She replied.

   Was he sure he had entered the same hospital he was told to go to? Perhaps he had misread or misheard and had entered to wrong place. He pulled out his phone only to find no WiFi to use. All his bars were out meaning he wouldn't be able to communicate to anyone while inside the hospital.

   "Hey, how come you guys don't have WiFi?"

   The woman stopped and it seemed she really had to be alive and human, because she finally showed a different expression other than bland. Her eyebrows had furrowed and her lips went slightly crooked.

   "Sir, if you could kindly be quite, I might actually figure out the room your wife is in." Her tone had lowered to a venomous one.

   He apologize and pathetically sat in one of the chairs to try and calm down. She had to be correct. How could she get anything done if he was just standing there repeatedly asking her questions? He fiddled with his hands as he tried to think positive.

   At some point, he had to of fell asleep. Because when he had opened his eyes, he was slouched and the place was now more silent then before. When he looked over at the desk, the woman was gone. Instead there was a skeleton wearing the same stained outfit she had been.

   He jumped and quickly stood to his feet. He had to be dreaming, right? Maybe he was simply hallucinating or having an after effect of a dream he must have forgotten. But the longer he looked, the more the skeleton looked very real.

   He avoided his gaze and looked at the computer the skeleton sat behind. The screen was cracked and was black. The keyboard was layered thickly with dust showing no one had used this computer in a very long time.

   Had he been dreaming the other thing around? Did his wife really get into an accident? He tried to leave by the door he had entered, but realized it was chained and barricaded from the outside. Panic began to fill his senses. His heart beat faster and he began to feel a deep dread in his gut.

   Had someone did this when he had dozed off?! He pounded against the exit but it only resulted to his fists getting bruised. That's when he finally heard something. It was the sound of bare feet being dragged against the floor.

   He turned around quickly, hope glittering in his eyes. But that was quickly disintegrated when what he saw was nothing close to human.  It was tall, and looked like a skeleton but fleshy. It's face was hard to see as it seemed to slowly slide closer, and closer towards him.

   He couldn't move, and when he saw its face, he could no longer feel alive. You could say his own soul was frightened out of his body...

   He was never married. He was some nut case his neighbors said, who constantly believed he had a wife. His name was Sam Appleton, who was known to wander about and talk to someone when no one was actually there.

   His neighbors had said him wandering into an abandoned hospital would have happened one way or another. He must of woke from his daze and freaked out, and had a heart attack. Though there never was a skeleton in the chair... though when they had found him, his neck was snapped...

  
  

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