I took my watch out of my pocket and checked the time. It was 2:30am. Nobody noticed that I had not left the hospital since 5:30am five days before. We were severely understaffed, and with the Spanish Influenza bringing in more and more patients each day, I could just not afford to go home.
"Dr Carlisle. We have another two." Said the night nurse gravely. I knew what she meant; another two people who had been diagnosed with the Influenza.
I walked with her to the two new beds. We were on such a bad overflow, that a lot of people were just left to die on the floor, but these two – thankfully – had been found beds. The first bed held a pale woman with auburn hair, her skin made all the more pale by the onset of the influenza. When I reached the second bed, I had to do a double take. There was a boy, no more than seventeen, who was more awake than anyone I had seen with the disease.
"What is he doing in here?" I hissed at the nurse. "He shouldn't be mixed with these dying people, he has a chance."
"I'm sorry, sir. He didn't want to be separated from his mother." She whispered.
"That's his mother?"
"Yes, doctor."
I stared at the woman, then at her son.
"You're going to die down here." I said to him.
"I know. But I don't want to live without her." He said, nodding towards his mother.
"Please. Go back upstairs. I will do everything I can to save your mother. You don't need to die."
"I don't want to live without her." He stated again.
I gave him a look of regret, but he just stared back at me as though we were discussing something as simple as the weather, not life or death. I left the boy and his mother in the corner, as far away from the other infected patients as possible.
As I turned to walk away, the woman screamed out to me.
"Doctor! DOCTOR! Don't let him stay here! Please?! Make him go away! DON'T LET HIM STAY!" Then she slipped back into unconsciousness.
"What's your name, boy?" I asked the woman's son.
"Edward Masen." He answered simply.
"And what's your mother's name?"
"Elizabeth Masen."
"Edward? Did you just here your mother?" He nodded. "She doesn't want you to die. Let me take you back to my house, I will look after you, I promise."
"NO!" He shouted. "What if I do come to live with you? You're here all day, with the influenza all around you. Then you catch it. What will happen to me? I DON'T WANT THAT!!"
Tears were streaming down the boy's face. He had jumped off the bed and was standing right infront of me. Then he fell to the ground, and started sobbing uncontrollably. I lifted him up and placed him on the bed, like he was a two-year-old, not seventeen.
There was nothing more I could do. I walked away from Edward and his mother. I walked out of the basement room. I walked out of the hospital. I didn't stop walking until I reached my house. I had trouble keeping a human pace, and I was probably going a little bit quickly for most of them, but I had to get home. I had to think.
I opened the front door, and went into my study. I sat down at my desk, at put my head in my hands. It was now that I wished I could sleep, or at least nap. Maybe if I let my brain relax…but that would never happen.
I sighed, and got out of the chair. I walked back out my door, and onto the street. I checked my watch again; it was 5:45am, and the streets were getting busier. I walked back to the hospital and down the stairs to the basement room.
The first thing I looked for was Edward and Elizabeth. It took me a few seconds to locate them through all of the chaos. As I walked over to them, I noticed that Edward was lying down. When I had left him, he was so red in the face; I didn't think it would be possible for him to relax. I thought he must have fallen asleep, but as I got closer, I noticed that his eyes were open, and his skin was a sickly pale.
"Edward?" I asked tentatively.
He grumbled and looked up at me.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He said, but his appearance told a different story.
His voice was harsh and dry, his skin so pale it was almost translucent, and his eyes looked as though they could have belonged to a seventy-year-old man.
I tensely put my hand against his forehead. Oh no, he was running a temperature. Then he closed his eyes.
"Edward? Edward!" I shook him, hard, but he didn't budge.
Oh no. I thought.
I put fingers to his wrist to find his pulse, but it was either too light or, god forbid, nonexistent. I put my ear to his chest, listening for a heartbeat. After I had heard three beats, I relaxed, knowing that he was alive.
Then I felt something pulling on my coat. I turned around to find Elizabeth Masen staring up at me with wild eyes.
"Please, doctor," she whispered, "please, save him. Don't let him die." Then her grip loosened from my coat, and her arm fell against the bed.
Oh no.
I checked for a pulse and then a heartbeat, but I couldn't find anything. I pulled the sheet over her face, and then turned back to Edward. He was still unconscious.
"Don't let him die." That is what she had asked of me. I didn't have to let him die; I could save him – almost.
I picked up the boy, and without thinking, carried him to the morgue. Nobody would have the time to realise that he was still breathing. I carefully opened the door and peered in. Thankfully, nobody was there. I walked over to the nearest bench, and lay Edward down.
I stared at him for quite a long time; his mother's last words to me reverberating inside my head.
"Don't let him die…Don't let him die…Don't let him die…"
I wondered silently to myself whether she would consider this killing him. I put my hand to his forehead again, he was hotter than before. He had no more than a couple of hours left. If I were to change him, it would have to be now.
I had always wanted a companion, but could never find it in myself to change an innocent human. This gave me an excuse. His mother's dying wish had been to not let him die.
I leant over Edward, and pressed my lips to his neck. I sunk my teeth in, and withdrew them quickly. I held my breath, concentrating on not losing control.
There was an ear splitting scream, and Edward's eyes flew open.
"Help! HELP! It hurts! PLEASE! IT HURTS!!"
I couldn't do anything. I had to stand and watch this poor innocent boy die. Because in truth, that was what was happening; he was dying. I couldn't fool myself that I was keeping him alive. I had to kill him, for him to survive.
He continued shouting and screaming, and I continued to watch.
"Shhh. It will all be over in three days." Was all the comfort I could offer him.
--
After about three hours, Edward slipped into unconsciousness. I took this chance and carried him back to my house. While I was in the hospital I walked with him on a bed, so as not to draw attention to myself. Once I got to the door, I picked him up and ran with him back to my house. I went so fast, that I hoped none of the humans would realise it was a person flying past them.
When we were about three blocks from the house, Edward regained consciousness. He started screaming again, yelling for the fire to stop. Although it took us less than two seconds to get inside, I was sure someone heard his screams.
--
When Edward regained consciousness for the last time on the third day of his change, I decided it was time to move. I left the house without taking anything bar a couple of pictures. I ran with Edward until we reached a small secluded house in the forest.
I had moved so many times in my existence that it didn't bother me. Edward on the other hand didn't seem to like the idea so much. Although his sullen attitude was probably partly due to the fact that he was ravenously thirsty.
"This is home."