Nick watched the clock tick away. He muttered a sigh as a minute passed even though it felt like an hour. He fixed his position in his chair and leaned on his arm. He crossed his legs and used his free hand to tap a rhythmic pattern on his knee.
Another minute passed by. Every second felt like days as he sat in the cheerily painted yellow room. What kind of fools were the people who painted this room? No one ever came in this room happy. Few left it happy.
He grinded his teeth as he heard a baby cry behind him. He glanced over and saw the mother bouncing the kid up and down in an attempt to cheer him up. It wasn't working. If anything, the kid was crying even more now.
Nick grumbled but turned back around, focusing on the clock even more now. The consistent ticking of the clock was soothing as much as it was torturous.
He looked over as he heard a click, the sound of someone opening a door. He saw a lady standing in the doorway, peeking out into the crowd. Nick sat up in his chair, a faint glimmer of hope shinning in his eyes. Hope that the lady would call his name. Only then was he disappointed when someone else's name was called.
Slouching in his chair, Nick watched as a man walked to the door and disappeared behind it with the lady. He sighed; he wanted to go back there so bad. In the room, to see how he was doing.
He would have to wait. Wait until he was called. What kind of sick torture was this? First you find out something bad happened and then you have to wait to see if everything will be alright. Even if it wasn't alright, he just wanted to see him.
Nick fumbled in his pocket and then pulled out a small clay horse. One he made before all this happened. He had given Nick the horse. Just as a small present. It was also an inside joke from when times were better. It was funny thinking about those 'better times'. For most people, those times were horrible. But for Nick, it was when he was well and his normal, goofy self.
Another minute was gone. How long has it been? Two…Three hours maybe. It didn't really matter. Point was, Nick was back here while he was in there. Was he scared? Was he in pain? Nick wouldn't know until he got in there.
The soft click of a door opening caught Nick's attention. A man stood in the doorway this time. The man looked at the paper in his hand and scanned the room.
"Nicolas…." He stopped at the last name, unsure how to pronounce it.
Nick stood up. That was him, he knew it. There was only one other guy in the room and he had a name tag on that said 'John'.
Nick walked to the man and nodded when the man pointed to the paper and asked if the name on the sheet was his. The man held the door open and Nick strode pass. He only stopped when he realized he didn't know where to go.
The man waved Nick down a hall and told him to sit on a chair in a small, lobby-like, waiting area. Nick frowned but took his seat and watched as the man walked away. Why the heck were there two waiting rooms? What was the point of this? To get someone's hope up, then crush it with the monotonous ticking of a different clock. He hated this place.
He fiddled with the horse. He rolled it around in his hand, still being careful not to ruin it. He looked at it and then set it on the small table next him. It fell over, not crafted well enough to stand on its own. He snorted, but then picked it back up and set it on his thigh.
Nick looked up and watched as a man in a long white robe walked down the hall towards him. The man had a clipboard under his arm and a grim look on his face. Nick averted his gaze, praying the man wouldn't come to him. The man walked past Nick, to a middle aged woman sitting in the chair with her head buried in her hands. She looked up at the man, hope and tears in her eyes. The man said nothing. He put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.
She screamed. Not a frightened scream, not a surprised scream but a sad scream. A scream of disbelief and grief. She sobbed into her hands and the man pulled out a tissue and handed it her. She took it but kept crying and muttering words such as 'why' or 'no'. The man said a few, quiet words that Nick couldn't catch and lead her down the hall he came from.
Nick's face paled when he realized where he was. This was the room where they delivered bad news. He was in trouble. Something was going wrong in the room where he was. That is why Nick was here.
Nick glanced around and saw that the few people in here were all upset and worried. Some were gripping tissues tightly, other leaning into lover's shoulders while that person tried to comfort them. The one thing they all had in common, they were worried. Worried about whoever was in this sick, disgusting place.
Nick cradled the small horse. It was far from perfect, but the fact that it was from him made it perfect in so many ways. The fact that he took the time to make it for Nick was enough to make Nick's week, though he would never admit it. It was imperfect, but then again, it was more perfect then anything created before.
He held the horse in his hand, stroking it with his thumb as he fixed his eyes on the clock. Tick…Tick…Tick…Tick…When would this torture stop?
Nick looked down the hall. People were scurrying in and out of rooms. Shouting things Nick didn't have the education to understand. They carried things, pushed objects, some even pushed people in and out of rooms. It was like a swarm of bee's working to make as much honey as possible. It didn't look like there was any organization, but there was other wise this 'bee hive' wouldn't be able to function.
He looked at the horse in his hand. It was missing an ear now. Nick frowned and searched the floor for it but didn't find it. How did he manage to break the ear off? He wasn't squeezing it too tight. He was barely squeezing it at all. He sighed but looked back at the clock. Everything always went back to the clock.
As he stared at the clock, he noticed the second hand stopped moving. Was the clock broken? After a minute or less, he watched the second hand twitch a little and then begin to tick again, as though nothing had happened.
What kind of place was this is if their clocks didn't even work right. How could Nick trust that their equipment worked right if the clocks didn't even work properly? How could he trust that they would take care of him?
Nick sighed and looked down the hall were all the rooms were. He was in one of those rooms. He was probably lying on a bed with closed eyes, waiting for Nick. Yet Nick wasn't there.
People were scrambling in and out of one room, yelling things and shouting at each other. They seemed panicked and worried. They pushed things into the room and moved things out. They pushed each other and didn't even apologize after running into a fellow employee. They were in a rush for something.
Nick snorted then looked back at the clock. It was stopped, again. He huffed but didn't let it bother him. Or at least he tried not to. He couldn't help but glance over at the clock every few seconds to see if it was working again. It wasn't.
He ended up just staring at the clock for a good minute or so. It still wasn't working. The clock was frozen at nine o' three.
Nick sighed and then pulled out his phone. It was nine o' five now. He smirked, then put his phone away and sat with his eyes fixed on the hall. People weren't running in and out of the room anymore. In fact, he didn't see any people at all, the hall was completely empty.
Whatever all the commotion was about, it was over now. He smirked, figuring someone was in critical condition and was now either dead or stable. He glanced back at the clock and to his shock; it was still broken, frozen at nine o' three.
He turned around and saw that almost everyone was gone, only one person remained. A woman, middle aged and slightly overweight. She was looking down and biting her nails. It was kind of gross but it looked like she was just doing it out of a nervous habit. Who wasn't nervous in here?
Behind him, Nick heard the soft clicking of against tile floor. He turned and saw a well dressed man, wearing a long white button-up shirt like the man from earlier. He was obviously a different man but with the same profession.
As the man got closer, Nick saw him look at the nail-biting woman. Nick sighed and then stared back at the clock –even though it was still frozen-, knowing the man was going to woman, not him.
Nick flinched when he felt something touch his shoulders. It startled him, mainly because he didn't expect it. He turned and saw the man staring at him. The man stepped back, giving room for Nick to stand up.
Nick stood and stared at the man. The man said nothing, only mentioned for Nick to follow him down the hall.
They walked slowly. So slowly their shoes only squeaked against the tile floor. Then, the man spoke.
"You are Nicolas correct?"
Nick nodded, not sure what this walk was about. Hopefully, he would see him.
"Well….Your friend…" The man trailed off, not sure how to phrase his sentence. "He…well…His heart stopped but then we revived him." The man stopped walking and Nick stopped with him.
"So he's alright then?" Nick asked shakily. His heart pounded nervously through his chest and his face felt hot. He forced himself to take a breath before he passed out.
"Well…" The man said nervously. "We revived him but then his heart stopped again…." The man looked at the ground, refusing to make eye contact.
Nick froze. He felt his face go pale and made a fist. "And then you revived him again? Right?" He asked, trying hard not to let his voice crack.
The man took in a deep breath then looked Nick in the eyes. "I'm sorry." He said.
Nick felt his face go cold. He could have sworn the world stopped moving and the world was silent. He stood there, coldness sweeping through his body as he looked at the man with wide eyes. "No…" He murmured in barely a whisper.
"I'll leave you alone…" The man said apologetically and the walked away.
Nick walked back into the wall then slid down to the floor. He put a hand on his head and just stared for a moment, not quite believing the news he just heard.
He was gone. Dead. He was dead! This was impossible. This couldn't be. He was always there. But now, he was dead.
Nick slowly stood up. He stood up like a dead man. Like a zombie. He turned around and put his head against the wall, feeling a warm drop drip down his cheek. He took in a heavy breath and let out a quiet sob. So quiet, no one could hear it. He gritted his teeth and bit his lip. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't cry. He just couldn't. It was something he couldn't do. He shouldn't cry not here at least.
He took in another deep breath, trying to think positive. Which was a rare act for him. He was in a better place now. A place where he could kill all Sons-of-Bitches everyday of the week.
"Ellis…." Nick choked out in a quiet whisper. The only person who had ever been kind to the street hardened conman was gone.
Forgetting about the small horse in his hand, Nick placed his hands against the wall, accidentally dropping the horse.
It shattered.