The next day, the seat beside me was chillingly empty. Despite it being shortly after a hefty lunch, I just sat there. The blankest living soul I knew to be in the building. A film of fatigue was stretched over my face.
Tears. Tears littered the floors. Tissues rested patiently in boxes on every table in the entire building. Not a happy tone was to be acted out that day. But why?
Recurring replays had postponed my flight to Dreamland until two that morning. Only four hours of sleep would be had.
They had called in all of the available doctors that remained in the building last night. Not one of them could figure out just what the heck that thing was, and what business it had floating around in Emily's liver.
My mother had dragged me home shortly after that.
"Stigma…" I stuttered to myself before my eyelids finally remained shut. "…It has to be Stigma…"
At 2:32pm, the final classes of the day ceased to occur, and ignorant student bodies filed out every which way. I was about to join them. Finally… One of those treasured days of the week where there were no extra-curricular obligations… No plans to fret over… Just a date with me and leisure.
Wait, leisure? What was I thinking?!
My health teacher… excuse me, facilitator… used her words to catch me before I could take one step out into the rippling corridor.
"Ah! Rachael!" she called out, walking up to me. "I… heard about Emily." She almost started to choke up a bit. "Losing a friend has to be one of the most painful experiences ever."
Tears launched themselves out of my eyes.
"L-Losing?!" I cried. "I-I literally left the… hospital… when she was still in surgery… Everyone was all sad today! Why didn't I HEAR about this?!"
Oh God, no… Please… Not this… Not this…
"You didn't?!" she gawked. "Well… They couldn't do anything about what was within her, so… all they can do is keep her on a life support system… and even that will fail someday. They think it's a synthetic worm of some sort. Cancer, maybe…" She put a hand on my shoulder. "I knew you were her friend. You two worked together so well. I am so, so sorry…"
I somehow managed not to run out in a complete fit of sobs.
I instead took it out on my raggedy old pillows.
"NO!" I screamed. "No, no, NO!" I sunk my fist into my bed one final time, my voice being shot down to a whisper. "This is Stigma… I could have saved her… Only at the cost of my own head! Yeah!"
I'm pretty sure that part of it would have left a bloodier scar if a true love were in Emily's place.
Then, my mind clicked back to the sewer.
("Be sure not to reveal anything to…")
A doctor's name followed that sentence, but my brain was not willing to try to put a finger on any of the letters of his name.
Nevertheless, it had said it on that paper.
Therefore… The engraved memory still sat, cramped, in my laptop case.
I felt my tears dry like lava against the side of a volcano. Emily… Emily still had a chance! This was my last chance.
"Be sure not to reveal anything to…" What had the rest of that sentence said?!
Recklessly, I reached into my bag, practically grabbed my laptop case by the scruff of its neck, opened it, and grabbed that piece of paper.
6 strains… First wave causes victim to keel over and collapse…
I suddenly felt as if I had set eyes on a golden ore amongst a pile of playground rocks.
"Be absolutely sure not to reveal anything…" my documentation read. "…to Dr. Markus Vaughn. He is currently researching the same disease, but has fallen far behind compared to myself. He has been pinpointed as the most revolutionary doctor ever to be born upon the lands of this Earth. He works for Concordia Medical Institute in LA, California. It's good to know he's far across the country…"