Let's say we don't know so much of Abby's past...

ooo

Poppy red Life

We see many patients, all day, all different, varied histories and pains, but at the same time this common need, healing and hearing. They sit, wait for hours trying to get our attention, few minutes of our time so that we do our best to solve what we can. They're just trying to get our attention.

Not her.

She looked physically healthy, no hurt apparent on her face, although her eyes reflected something special, something far from this hospital, this noise and this crowd, lost in a dreaming land but so aware of the place, a mixture of timidity and scare. And something else I couldn't explain.

And I probably wouldn't have noticed the girl if it wasn't for those eyes.

She sat there in the corner, between the various people that had come through the day and been finally taken care of. Without moving, she held a small envelope as if it was the most precious good anyone could posses, and gripped it tighter every time a doctor or a nurse walked close to her chair. They appeared not to paid real attention to her, except Pratt, maybe, who probably liked her. Too young but beautiful.

And she was.

Wavy Brown hair, long but not too much, it felt around her sweet face, making it even paler than it already was. She was probably sixteen, not more; I felt a pain in my chest. She had something angelic in the way she acted, no abrupt movement and no rapid gesture. The sunlight that had changed through the day had already lightened different parts of her head and her mouth was now the first thing you could see. She was biting her lower lip gently by what I thought was nervousness.

I couldn't understand.

I decided to go to her, not only because of the confusion, there was something else that was dragging me to her, I felt like I was attracted by her person, like we were strangely connected, and I couldn't avoid those steps that were bringing me to the girl. It seemed natural to finally go to see her.

To understand.

She was looking outside, I realized then it was snowing, and somehow it made me shiver. She wrapped her coat and arms around her small figure and buried her face in her scarf to keep herself warm. As if she wanted to forget the coldness of the weather, she removed her gaze from the window, and finally met mine. She appeared scared suddenly, more than I thought with a farther look.

"Can I help you sweetheart?"

She was studying my badge, with an expression I couldn't quite define, there was fear in it I was sure but at the same time, I didn't know where it came from, it had something of a hope, an excitement. I took a look at my own name to discover the same black printed letters I clip every morning on my white jacket: Doctor A. Lockhart. She seemed relieved somehow as I looked up at her again. Those eyes, so familiar.

"You've been in here all day... Are you hurt or sick?"

She was biting her lip again, like she needed to decide whether talking was a good idea or not. She ran her fingers through her hair and placed then a strand behind her right ear. She took a deep breath and I was fascinated as I heard a voice for the first time soft and calm.

"I'm looking for..." She hesitated, trying to let herself speak and to stop herself from saying something she didn't want "For someone... Abigail Marjorie Wichinsky..."

My heart jumped in my chest, I couldn't breathe anymore, it was like time has stopped and silence surrendered both of us, I tried to swallow my saliva, but I couldn't, a bulge had taken all the place in my throat. Those eyes, where just the eyes I looked in everyday, in front of my mirror, they were mine.

Although I couldn't believe it, I realized then.

A screaming voice brought me back to reality, Weaver again. "Abby, you're paid to treat patients not to talk with them!" I turned my gaze in the direction avec the girl's again. She was trembling; her eyes wide open with scare, I could see tears forming in them.

She had realized too.

"I...I have to go..." With that I saw her stand nervously, she grabbed her bag and ran as fast as she could out of the hospital. I couldn't move, I just couldn't move, I tried to find my respiration in the mess of feelings and thoughts that had filled my heart and mind. I couldn't be true, I couldn't be real. Everything around me was blurry, maybe because of the tears I felt in my eyes, I couldn't see clearly.

Until I found it on the floor. The small envelope, a bit creased, it had probably fallen from her hands in the run. I took it in mine as if my life depended on this piece of paper. It was the case. The paper wasn't so white anymore, but a thing didn't change. A little flower printed on the back.

A Poppy red.

I wanted to cry...

ooo

Well I think you understood what happenned, if not then you'll know next chapter, just tell me what you think, please...

Perrine