I arrived at the hospital early in the morning, the first thing on my mind being that patient in 102. I swatted the thought away. Why was he any different than the other patients? I couldn't figure it out.

I walked into the building, hurrying past the music from the keyboard. I found myself thinking about him again. Maybe he kept saying 'what if' because he knew he wasn't going to last. People don't just say 'what if' when they know for sure what they want is going to happen.

The poor guy was on the floor yesterday, and I almost thought he had died for a second. The nerve of some patients is really astounding.

I made my way to room 102, scolding myself as I did so. Why was I going to his room first? It wasn't like I had a reason to see him. He could still be asleep. It was early, after all.

I knocked softly on the door and then opened it. I was greeted with an airplane flying towards me, accompanied by that expected 'what if.' I swatted the plane out of my face. It landed on the floor, and I picked it up and placed it in the trash, which hadn't been taken out yet.

It was my job to take out the trash in my patients' rooms, but I couldn't bring myself to get rid of all those paper airplanes. Not until this guy was gone, at least.

I didn't even bother responding to his 'what if,' because I knew he wouldn't tell me. I didn't know why though, he seemed perfectly excited about whatever he was thinking about. It was like he expected me to understand what he was wishing for. I'm not a mind reader.

He continued to smile at me from behind his glasses as I went around performing checks on everything in the room. He didn't say anything, and I don't know why. He seemed like he would be a talkative type, but I didn't really care. The last thing I needed to do was get to know a patient that was only temporary. That would be like a thirsty person in the desert setting his hopes on a pond that was only a mirage.

Did I compare myself to a thirsty person? Let me just make this clear, I'm not thirsting for anything. I'm completely satisfied being my unenthusiastic self. It's quite necessary, for the job I have to do. I left the room without so much as a goodbye, and closed the door behind me.

I stood right where I was for a moment, closing my eyes. I turned back around and peaked through the door's window, having to stand on my tiptoes because I was on the short side. The patient was still smiling, so obviously he wasn't putting on a show or anything, but he seemed to be drawing.

I watched through the window for a few moments before remembering I had other patients to attend to. I pulled myself away from the door and continued on through my other duties.

I sat down in a chair to take a quick break, and though I hated it, that chair was in the room where the girl played her keyboard to patients and sang. She was currently singing a love song, though I don't know why. This was a hospital, not a romantic restaurant. I guess it helps the other patients remember loved ones, but whatever.

I closed my eyes, but then quickly opened them again. All I could see when my eyes were closed was his smile. His eyes. His paper airplanes, sitting in the trash. I looked, exasperated, at the other patients, trying to distract myself. They were all smiling, but it was a sad sort of smile.

None of them smiled like him.

I was annoyed at myself for thinking so much about a patient. I hadn't thought this much about patients in...months, maybe years. I had lost track of the time I spent here. Time didn't matter in a hospital, for most people in my section of the hospital, it was the end of their time anyway.

I glanced at the doorway, and saw a nurse waving me over. I got up and went to talk to her.

"One of your patients was making a lot of noise, so we sent someone in to check on him, and he said he just needed a pink piece of paper, and specifically requested it from you," she said quietly, to avoid interrupting the music.

I closed my eyes in exasperation. "I'm going to take one guess as to where this patient stays," I said, annoyed. "Room 102."

I saw the nurse nod as I walked off. Where was I going to get a pink piece of paper? It's not like the hospital had them ready and waiting for any patients that asked. I pushed my glasses up and made my way out of the hospital. I was going to have to go buy pink paper.

I couldn't believe I was doing it. Usually patients who asked for this type of thing would get politely declined. But no, I was going to go buy paper. I sighed to myself and glared the entire time I was on my errand.

First of all, I had to go change clothes, so that I wouldn't get my white clothes dirty. Secondly, I was going to have to drive all the way to the store and deal with people. Then, I was going to have to actually face that guy in room 102 with the paper, just to see his annoying little smile.

Having finished the errand in as little time as possible for my own convenience, I reluctantly walked to that patient's room. I knocked, and opened the door to see him beaming, waiting expectantly.

I brought the paper over to his bed, and he reached out for it. "What if," he said happily, and I was beginning to wonder if that was just his catchphrase or something. It could be. I placed the paper in his outstretched hand and turned to leave as quickly as possible.

I couldn't help but glance back at him, and caught him looking at me, almost longingly, but it wasn't like a child looks at candy, it was more like he understood something I didn't and wanted me to understand too.

But I could just be over-analyzing things.