Why does a last minute flight to Seattle cost around 200 dollars?! Whine whine whine.
My green savior pulls me down the hall, knocking on each door as we pass much like he did that first day. We fly with a speed I wouldn't have been able to keep up with if his hand wasn't in mine, throwing a loopy smile back my way every time I trip over my own feet.
"Hurry, Wendy! Let's go!" he calls out again.
"Where are you—" I gasp, faltering as I lose my grip with the floor, sliding only a tiny bit before he helps me catch my balance. "Taking me?"
He turns the corner, pushing me against the wall with his body so there's brief moment where he's flush against me, before quickly stepping back with another loopy smile thrown across his face.
"Right here," he says.
Right here is another hall of this prison. It's not as crowded as mine, but there still are a few patients wandering about their day. I see a certain lack of clarity missing from their eyes in comparison to those patients living around me.
"Where are we?"
"Wing F." He shrugs his shoulders, glancing around as he dances on his tiptoes, waiting for something as if he's nervous. His eyes seem to linger a bit longer on a woman leaning against a closed door, her fingers tapping at the wood as soft sobs leave her mouth, her cheeks wet with tears.
"What's wrong with her?"
He shrugs his shoulders again, tiptoeing in her direction, laying that strong hand of his on her shoulder. "How are you today, Esme?"
She glances up at him, recognition in her eyes, and for a moment I think she's going to answer him because that's what normal people do when asked a question, and I see it when he thinks the same thing because her lips move as if she's trying to form words. But then her eyes fill with tears again and she drops her head against the door, still tapping away with her fingertips.
He looks disappointed as he gazes down at her. "I wish I could help you," he whispers into her ear, but he goes ignored, along with, "I wish I could save him."
She sobs a little louder, looking at him but not really seeing him. "Where is he? Where did he go?"
A scream echoes down the hall, so high-pitched and frighteningly angry that we all jump and freeze in surprise. My green savior tiptoes back to me, pressing my shoulders harder into the wall as if willing me to disappear into it. I wish I could.
We hear the slow descent of footsteps at the same time. His eyes widen as he presses a finger to his lips. Time seems to stretch as the footsteps grow louder. I expect Orderly Hale to turn the corner, catching us doing something wrong, even though I'm not sure what that wrong is. But it's not him. It's Patient Rosalie.
She has her shirt back in place and a devious smile on her face. She glances at my green savior and says, "You owe me, doc." Before disappearing down the hall.
