Strange Ongoings (ch 9)
-Part One-
One week it had been since I had the courage to investigate, and step outside my apartment. And one week it has been of not going to my new residence except the occasional meal and shower and eventually sleep.
I had no idea how interesting Cardiff was. It’s not spewing out tourist attractions at every turn, unlike all the other places I’ve been outside my home. And this in itself was most interesting. Cardiff, it seemed, was an innocent, loving family city by day, and by night it was a raving darkened carnival filled with lustful adulterers and shifting strangers at every turn. The change was so drastic, so extravagant, so unexpected, and so breathtakingly attractive. I wanted to drown in it. Cardiff was both the equivalence to America’s sweetheart, and the 1800’s Salem witchcraft trials. And it was irrevocably beautiful.
I felt as if there was something inside me craving more of this nighttime Cardiff, as if there was a secret ingredient to it that I had been starved of my entire existence, as if I needed whatever it was that this new world had to offer. And what I felt scared me. I had never been so comfortable in a new place, in closer spaces and tighter air. A part of me—granted, a very weak part, but I felt it growing stronger every second I was in this place—had felt at home here, in this place… But the part of me that had always been, the part of me that I was absolutely sure was me, this part of me told me to stay very far away from this place, that this place was so… Dangerous. Too dangerous. This was the part of me that was terrified, because I know now that the other part was getting way too strong way too fast, and soon I would be out of control.
I was in a bar. No—not ‘a’ bar—the bar. I was in the pub that I remember to have seen those saddened, haunted eyes. The blue eyes of a lord, of my lord.
I was in this bar when it happened. My pulse quickening, beads of sweat forming across my skin and shivers shaking me head to toe. And suddenly, everything was black…
-Part Two-
Flashing lights, jumbled sounds and a ringing in my ears, this is my world. I hear shouting, but it’s muted; faint. Red, blue, red blue, redblue redblue redblueredblue. All I see are colors…. Someone needs me. I know this. I see… I see, I see blue eyes. Blue eyes. And..
Black doors. These doors are thick, and I know I’ve been staring at them for a very long time. And I see… A…. I see a sidewalk….
Someone is talking to me. They’re asking me to come back. Back where? I don’t want to leave this place. It’s so warm, and I feel so light. Why would they want me to leave this? It’s so nice….
“Ma’am. Can you hear me? Ma’am! What is the year? Ma’am, can you hear me? She’s not responding. We need to start CPR. Someone get me an AED. One! Two! Three! Four…”
There’s something inside me. I can feel it. It’s not something good, and it’s been there for a very long time…
“Five! Six! Seven! Eight…”
I remember something coming to me when I was a little girl…
“Nine! Ten! Eleven! Twelve…”
Such a bright light…
“So far, I know that the patient had collapsed from restricted air. It seemed that her diaphragm had… defaulted, somehow. It works perfectly fine now, and I don’t expect it to happen again. But I would keep an eye out for your tenant, Mr. Sanders. You said her name was…?”
“Tegan Farrow. She’s just moved here from America. No family, though her sister’s just died. I think she has nightmares. I wake up to the sound of her screaming in the middle of the night, but I’m always too afraid to check up on her. Giving ‘er some space, you know?”
They don’t know I’m awake yet. The voice, he says that I collapsed. I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anything. All I remember are blue eyes and black doors. Where had I seen them before? For some reason, it feels like I’ve spent a long time trying to figure that out. Why? Where these things that important? I have to know where I’d seen them! But first I have to get out of this hospital!
I rubbed my new scar, on my belly and tears brimmed my eyes, why I don’t know.
The smell of bleach and chlorine reach my nostrils and my stomach reels. I hate hospitals. I sit up and look around-nothing but white and white and more white. White furniture, white curtains and white sheets. I’m wearing a white dressing gown. The cheap kind that tie and button up the back, but not quite enough to cover your ass. I hear babies crying and shouts of orders from here to there. The bitter taste of metal and blood is in my mouth, and I have a feeling that it’s not going away anytime soon.
The words of the orderly and my landlord rush back to me all at once.Nightmares. I hadn’t thought that he had heard me. Tears brim my eyes and I swallow hard, gulping down sweat and tears and a lot of saliva. My throat hurts, and my mouth is scratchy. I need to get out of this place. My legs are going numb, pens and needles gathering at my feet and hands.
I slowly undercover my legs and slip off the hospital bed. I look at my chart—I’m at Velindre N H S Trust Hospital. That’s not far from the loft—I turn, making my decision to run all the way home, to pack my things and leave. Leave Velindre, leave Cardiff, and leave the United Kingdom. I want to go back to the beginning. If I’m in America, I’ll be okay. If I just get to America, I’ll be safe.
I take off, out the door, down the hallway, past waiting rooms and into the stairs.
Of course, I’ve never been in a building in Cardiff that’s bigger than on story, unless you count my loft, which I don’t because those are Mr. Sanders’ stairs. And, of course, nobody in America really used the stairs unless there was an absolute emergency. All these common facts build up to one conclusion; I did not expect what was going to happen next.
He had brown hair, brown eyes and a lot of white skin. His mouth was thin and his breath was short. He had worry lines streaking across his brow, and sweat gathering on his upper lip. And all of his brown eyed, brown haired worried beauty came smashing into my still-frail body at once, knocking both my breath out of my lungs and me on my ass. My silver eyes were wide and my short brown hair was everywhere. My weakened limbs gave out from under the weight of this terrified man and I collapsed, gasping for breath and cheek pressing painfully against the corner of a stair.
The man, clumsy and embarrassed, immediately stood, and swaying dangerously, he grasped onto the railing and paled. “Sorry,” he gasped out once he sort-of had his breath, “Are you okay?” He asked me, his bleary gaze on me now.
Well, no, I’m not okay actually. I think I’m going insane, I’m alone in this crazy world with no family and no friends. I’m so pathetic that I never use my money when I need it. And when I finally get the sense to go home, a blubbering buffoon slams himself into me, probably infecting me with whatever disease he has, and I’m now lying crumbled on the floor, limbs scattered and probably broken. So to answer your question no, I’m notokay!
“I’m fine. Just in a rush.” He nodded as I limped my way to a standing point.
I don’t know if it was the adrenaline rush dying down, or the fact that he still looked pale, but after staring at him for a few minutes, him just standing there, looking dazed out of his mind, I finally grabbed hold of his arm and led him up the stairs.
“What floor?” I looked him in the eye then, and he looked back, shocked and distant.
“8th. The maternity ward.” I could have laughed then, as it explained everything. Either this guy was trying to have a baby, or his wife was. This information completely explained the dazed, distant, distracted nature. He was going to be a father. It was obviously his first, and I pondered on the gender. Did he want the baby? Wasn’t he scared? One look at his face answered both questions—yes. Yes to both questions. Yes he wanted that baby, possibly more than I wanted to be halfway down the block. Yes he was scared; he was terrified.
“What’s your name?” Even though his face was distant, and he was pale as a ghost and sweating like a pig, I knew he would answer all the questions I asked.
“Rhys.” He glanced up at me as to ask the same, and I gave a half-heart, crooked smile that I hoped to god didn’t look like a grimace.
“Tegan.”
We walked steadily up the stairs, one by one, arm in arm, in silence.
When we reached the 8th floor, I saw through the little window the hospital security. No doubt they’ve found out that I’m missing by now. I was able to pick out the words ‘Mr. Sanders’ from their lips. I froze just before the door, sidestepping the window a little, so as to be out of their sight. Rhys stopped, noticing my sudden tension. He gave me an odd look, finally noticing my attire, and then looking back from me to the hospital security.
Finally after several, tense moments, moments that seemed to last forever in the wonder if he’ll turn me in, hand me over, he looked back at me and said, “I guess this is your stop. Sorry for tripping over you.” After so he turned away, slipping through the door and disappearing right before my eyes.
“I hope your child is as nice as you.”
My words slipped into the silent oblivion of this stairwell, and I turned my back and ran straight to home, all attention of leave Cardiff disappearing along with the hospital, shrinking smaller and smaller into the distance until it was no more.
