Hours had passed. Maybe even days. Who knew. All he knew now was that he
wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon because of the damned restraints
and a new blurry person had entered the room.
"Mr. Senate," it was a female. He tried to make out the face. Ashley. That's who it was. He tried to form the word to make her name but the needle made it incredibly hard to focus on anything. Wait - hadn't she died? Hadn't she killed herself?
She walked up on his left side and leaned over his bed, hair hanging down.
"Ashley.. what are you.. what are you doing here?" he finally got out, and then blinked to focus his eyes. They began to clear up with his will.
"You killed me Mr. Senate," she said in a robot, yet accusing voice. Harry was confused.
"Ashley-" he started to question. Nothing made sense at ALL.
"If you would have just left me alone. You just had to confront my father didn't you. You made him kill me. You," she accused. His eyes improved and he saw the anger and hurt in her eyes. She couldn't be real. It was all from what he had been stuck with. Right?
"I'm sorry I was just trying to help-" Harry defended himself. To whom, a ghost?
"Who? Who were you trying to help? Me, or you? You needed something to fill that void in your life," Ashley dictated as if she were his therapist or something.
"I do not have a void in my life,"
"You killed me Mr. Senate. Face it," and she was gone. Just like that.
Harry was confused. The twilight zone song played in his head. In the last day, hour, or even year, he had been stuck with poisionour needles and visited by a dead student.
He prepared himself for a strait jacket.
-
He must have drifted off because he awake, - in a hallway. A hallway that he had remembered. He was at Winslow High, in the hallway near his classroom. Confusion ran around in his brain pulling out wires and laughing. Harry now guessed the whole white room and brithmark doctor experience had been some sort of wack dream. But it had seemed so goddamn real. Just the detail he could recall on the brown restraints at his wrists.
"Harry - Harry!" Ronnie basically screamed in his ear. He was somehow sitting up now, back against the lockers that lined the hallway on both sides. He looked around him. His class stood near the doorway to his class, stunned and whispering to eachother. On the other side, other faculty members along with a buch of other students watched him. Lipshitz was muttering something. Oh that bitter, bitter man.
Ronnie of course was at her knees on his left side.
"You look nice today Ronnie. Did you do something different with your hair?" Harry smiled at her, grateful that he was still alive and free from the haunted shite hospital in his mind.
Ronnie looked at him as if he was the most insane person in the world, judging by his last comment at that particular time.
"Ronnie, the ambulence is here," a flushed Steven Harper walked to to the little circle and told her. Harry looked up at Harper who looked geniunely concerned.
"Ambulence?" he questioned. There was no way he wa going to be locked away in a 'real' white room now. "I am not going to some hospitial."
"Harry-" Ronnie started to protest. Harry held up his hand to make her be quiet and slowly got up from his place on the floor using help from the lockers behind him. Magnificiently, his headache had indeed vanished.
"I feel great," he looked at everyone still staring at him. "What are you guys staring at? Did I mess myself or something?" he slightly smiled and most of the kids snickered. Once people were assured that he was okay, they started to lead their students back to class. Harper led Harry's class back into the room.
Harry put his right hand in his pocket and scratched his head with his left, and let it rest on the back of his neck.
Ronnie had her arms crossed. He looked at her.
"Ronnie I'm fine, really," he tried to convince her, but this time was actually telling the truth.
"You didn't look fine when you were laying on the floor not breathing," she said a little loudly and then quieted down.
"I was.. taking a.. breather.." Harry chuckled at his own joke and took his hand off his neck.
Ronnie did not look too amused. That was okay. He had lots of time to amuse her. At least he was still alive and free from the headache demon.
Now he had to settle what he had learned in his bizarre dream about Ashley and her father.
"Mr. Senate," it was a female. He tried to make out the face. Ashley. That's who it was. He tried to form the word to make her name but the needle made it incredibly hard to focus on anything. Wait - hadn't she died? Hadn't she killed herself?
She walked up on his left side and leaned over his bed, hair hanging down.
"Ashley.. what are you.. what are you doing here?" he finally got out, and then blinked to focus his eyes. They began to clear up with his will.
"You killed me Mr. Senate," she said in a robot, yet accusing voice. Harry was confused.
"Ashley-" he started to question. Nothing made sense at ALL.
"If you would have just left me alone. You just had to confront my father didn't you. You made him kill me. You," she accused. His eyes improved and he saw the anger and hurt in her eyes. She couldn't be real. It was all from what he had been stuck with. Right?
"I'm sorry I was just trying to help-" Harry defended himself. To whom, a ghost?
"Who? Who were you trying to help? Me, or you? You needed something to fill that void in your life," Ashley dictated as if she were his therapist or something.
"I do not have a void in my life,"
"You killed me Mr. Senate. Face it," and she was gone. Just like that.
Harry was confused. The twilight zone song played in his head. In the last day, hour, or even year, he had been stuck with poisionour needles and visited by a dead student.
He prepared himself for a strait jacket.
-
He must have drifted off because he awake, - in a hallway. A hallway that he had remembered. He was at Winslow High, in the hallway near his classroom. Confusion ran around in his brain pulling out wires and laughing. Harry now guessed the whole white room and brithmark doctor experience had been some sort of wack dream. But it had seemed so goddamn real. Just the detail he could recall on the brown restraints at his wrists.
"Harry - Harry!" Ronnie basically screamed in his ear. He was somehow sitting up now, back against the lockers that lined the hallway on both sides. He looked around him. His class stood near the doorway to his class, stunned and whispering to eachother. On the other side, other faculty members along with a buch of other students watched him. Lipshitz was muttering something. Oh that bitter, bitter man.
Ronnie of course was at her knees on his left side.
"You look nice today Ronnie. Did you do something different with your hair?" Harry smiled at her, grateful that he was still alive and free from the haunted shite hospital in his mind.
Ronnie looked at him as if he was the most insane person in the world, judging by his last comment at that particular time.
"Ronnie, the ambulence is here," a flushed Steven Harper walked to to the little circle and told her. Harry looked up at Harper who looked geniunely concerned.
"Ambulence?" he questioned. There was no way he wa going to be locked away in a 'real' white room now. "I am not going to some hospitial."
"Harry-" Ronnie started to protest. Harry held up his hand to make her be quiet and slowly got up from his place on the floor using help from the lockers behind him. Magnificiently, his headache had indeed vanished.
"I feel great," he looked at everyone still staring at him. "What are you guys staring at? Did I mess myself or something?" he slightly smiled and most of the kids snickered. Once people were assured that he was okay, they started to lead their students back to class. Harper led Harry's class back into the room.
Harry put his right hand in his pocket and scratched his head with his left, and let it rest on the back of his neck.
Ronnie had her arms crossed. He looked at her.
"Ronnie I'm fine, really," he tried to convince her, but this time was actually telling the truth.
"You didn't look fine when you were laying on the floor not breathing," she said a little loudly and then quieted down.
"I was.. taking a.. breather.." Harry chuckled at his own joke and took his hand off his neck.
Ronnie did not look too amused. That was okay. He had lots of time to amuse her. At least he was still alive and free from the headache demon.
Now he had to settle what he had learned in his bizarre dream about Ashley and her father.