Too Broke For Afterlife

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"I don't wanna do this, I don't even know him! Can't we go home again?"

I pull on Judy's arm, forcing her down the bright hallway.

"You broke his knee so the least you can do is apologize. Did your parents not teach you any manners?"

My eyes glide over the colorful plastic numbers glued to the doors, trying to find the right room. 

"My dad taught me how to gut fish. I'm not sure about manners though."

I ignore her joke.

"And that is why we're in the children's ward now, bringing gift shop chocolate to a 14 year old boy. Because you, with your lack of manners, got drunk-"

"I know! Don't start again," Judy groans while rolling her eyes.

"I'll say sorry and then we can leave, right?"

Without answering her I keep strutting.

One, because I'm still mad at her and the way she is whining right now.

And second, because I hate hospitals.

I mean, let's be honest. Who doesn't? This is the place where people die, this is where they find out that they have cancer and only 3 months left to live.

This is the place where it constantly smells like puke, hand sanitizers and exhaustion.

I hate hospitals with a burning passion and the only reason I'm here is so that Judy can't run away from her responsibility.

I stop in front of room number 19 and push Judy towards the door.

"Isa, please…"

"No."

She sighs, looking annoyed but knocks. 

We are waiting for an answer that lets us come in but instead the door gets opened by a middle-aged woman with a bob cut and glasses. She eyes us. "Yes?"

I put on a warm smile. "We are here because-"

"Mom, that's her! She hit me!" 

A boy is sitting in one of the hospital beds and pointing at Judy. The mom's face hardens, her eyes narrow.

"You," she hisses. "You hit my baby and now you have the audacity to come to the hospital? What is your plan? Give him some chocolate from the gift shop and act like that solves anything?"

I quickly slide the package into my handbag.

Before Judy can defend herself, I step in.

"Ma'am, we are really sorry about what happened. Judy feels horrible about the accident and-"

"Accident?"

Another interruption. I can feel myself getting frustrated.

"That was no accident! Your daughter got drunk and then raced into my son!"

Daughter. Again. Do we really look like we are related?

"What was she doing at that carnival anyway? Carnivals are for kids, not people like her." 

She practically spits the last word and I can see how Judy's discomfort is growing. She obviously wants to leave.

But I don't let go of her arm, instead I look at her, waiting for my girlfriend to defend herself.

She looks down at the ground, studying her shoes. 

"I'm really sorry about everything. I shouldn't have drunk alcohol and gotten on a ride. That was really stupid."

The woman huffs. And that is her only reaction.

I clear my voice. "I would like to pay for your hospital bills, it won't fix your son's knee but-"

"Mom, isn't that the crazy chick who escaped from the hospital?"

I throw a death glare at the boy.

You know, maybe he deserved to be rammed.

Now the mom is staring at me. Did I say that out loud?

"Of course, that was you! Oh my god. Are you a psychopath or something?"

She steps closer, ready to grab my arm but I dodge her grip.

Okay, you know what?

I can't deal with this right now. 

My heart is beating like fast and I can already feel my throat swelling up.

"I'll get us some coffee, okay?"

Judy tries to grab me but I shake her hand off. 

Sorry, baby, I think to myself.

With a fake smile I turn around and totter down the hallway to the next coffee machine. 

Oh god, does everyone in New York know who I am? 'That woman who escaped from the hospital'? Do I need a new identity? Maybe a short black wig?

If this is the life I now have to face, then I don't want to be a part of it.

I take a deep breath as I push the Americano button and put one of the plastic cups underneath.

The machine starts humming while heating up the liquid and soon it starts flowing. 

I lean my head against the plastic and watch the coffee as it fills up the cup, trying to blend out everything else around me. Just me and the coffee. 

I'm fine. 

I'm alive. 

It's okay.

I start playing The Moldau in my head. That always calms me down. A beautiful, innocent melody to drown out my spiraling thoughts.

But right now it only seems to be choking me. My insights keep tightening and I feel like I'm about to implode.

Once the cup is full I take it out and put the next one down. Push the button again.

Another deep breath.

Another try.

I'm fine. 

I'm alive.

"The prince of darkness has awoken."

I scream but a hand quickly appears from behind me and covers my mouth.

My heart is racing now. I can't move.

The voice is close to my ear and I feel a warm breath on my skin. I shiver.

"The day of judgment draws close. Satan is to purge the Earth, his army awaiting in the dark. They are rising. But so are we."

I whimper, trying to recognize the voice but it is a stranger who is talking to me.

"Lady Isabella. By the prophecies foretold, you are the chosen one. Join our side, the fate of mankind depends on it."

If this is a joke, then it's not funny.

I grab the hand, try to remove it but his grip is stronger.

My fingers are shaking, I'm unable to do anything with them. 

"Your coffee is done."

Then he lets go. 

I take a deep breath, grabbing the coffee machine to stabilize my trembling body. Then I turn around to face the man. 

But there is nobody there.

The hallway is empty.

I take a few steps forward, turn my head to the left and right. But I'm alone.

What just happened? Was I hallucinating? 

That has happened before when I was half-asleep but never during the day.

What did he mean by Satan is coming? 

And how am I the chosen one? 

Also, who is we?

I lean with my back against the coffee machine and try to find my middle but it really is not helping. 

My heart is racing, the breaths I take barely reach my lungs. 

A smothered sound leaves my mouth and I try to cover it with shaking fingers. 

I'm alive. I'm safe. 

Right? 

Am I safe? 

Or am I about to die?

"Ma'am, are you okay?" A young nurse is walking over to me. She looks concerned and carefully grabs my shoulder. 

I just shake my head, afraid I might tear up or choke if I try to say something.

"Okay, let's sit down."

She leads me to one of the waiting room chairs and I slowly lower myself, trying to not fall over. 

The nurse kneels down and looks at me. 

"It seems like you're hyperventilating. Let's try to take some deep breaths together, okay?" 

I nod.

She breathes in through the nose. I do the same. 

She breathes out through her mouth. I do the same. 

Nose. 

Mouth. 

Nose. 

Mouth. 

She smiles. "Keep the rhythm, I'll get you some water."

"Thank you," is all I can press out. 

I close my eyes and try to concentrate on breathing alone. 

I feel how my stomach lifts and sinks. Slowly but steady. 

I feel the ground beneath my feet and how my body presses against the chair. 

I'm alive. I'm safe. I'm okay. 

Maybe if I repeat it enough, I will start believing it.

I'm alive. I'm safe. I'm okay.

"Here, some water."

I open my eyes and grab the small bottle the nurse is handing me. 

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Ma'am. Do you want to share what upset you?" 

I shake my head. How could I? 

Satan is coming. You're the chosen one. She'd think I'm insane. 

And I couldn't blame her. What if I am? 

"Isa?" 

I see Judy who is walking over to us with quick steps. 

"What happened?" 

I look down at my hands, unable to admit anything. 

Luckily the nurse seems to notice. 

"Your friend had a panic attack. We did some breathing together but I think she is alright now. Maybe wait a few more minutes."

Judy sits down and wraps her arms around me. 

"Isa, what happened?" 

I softly shake my head. "Later."

"Okay." 

She puts her head on my shoulder and I breathe in her subtle scent.

Lavender and soap.

Something peaceful, innocent and familiar. 

"Let's sit here for a bit.. And when you're ready, I'll buy you cake."