SAPPY

Anh, you dare say there be something "straight trippin" with sappy...TAKE THIS

Henrietta von Anhalt Hospital was not on his usual route.  Rick did not know what compelled him to enter the hospital.  Maybe it was the need to reach out to someone who understood the pain he felt.  Or was it simply the need to not be alone―the innate instinct to seek companionship out of solitude.  Deep inside, Rick knew why he decided to come after school to the hospital: he wanted the guarantee that all his pain was worth holding.  He wanted to comfort himself by having someone to talk to, even if she could not talk back. 

He walked down the desolate halls with only the sound of his footsteps his companion.  After checking a few maps, he found his destination.  Rick stood in front of the room’s window as a few nurses exit the room, glancing at him.  His school uniform and combed brown hair portrayed a façade of control to his otherwise distraught mind.  Realizing that Rick was a friend visiting her, they left the door open for him to enter.  Rick gave them a false smile in gratitude and they walked away. 

He set he gaze back to the room.  The florescent lights gave everything an unforgiving glow.  The light reflecting off the plethora of medical equipment and clean and polished tiles made the room appear washed out, indicative of the person resting inside.  He slightly opened the door and smelt the air, icy and filled with disinfectants.  Rick felt nausea just by smelling this overly familiar scent, the scent he has associated with many traumatic times in his life, though minor compared to this.  Though the room was huge and could have fit multiple patients, one solitary bed was in the far right corner of the room. 

The girl could have wasted away without anybody noticing if not for the ECG echoing the electrical impulses of her heart.  The light washed out her body as well, making her previous brown skin and hair look grey, though that could just be a reflection of her condition.  She was sedated and tucked, more like locked, underneath a large blanket, her tousled brown hair spilling everywhere.  An I.V. line slowly dripped nourishment to her frail body.  Rick, even at the door, could see how small she was, smaller than she seemed in his mind.  Where previously she would tower above him and yell, here she was tiny, calm, and relaxed.  This by itself troubled him; she was never calm in real life, always outgoing and loud.  No true calm can be formed from medication. 

Rick did not know what was wrong with her. His mom, the head of the hospital, would say nothing about the matter.  His mom probably deemed him a simple child who would not understand what Jane went through.  Maybe his mom was right.  Jane entered the hospital three months ago and he never visited her until today.  Even today, he was here for himself, for his own solace, and not for her.  But he was here now and in Rick’s mind that is all that counts, if only he could find the courage to walk into the room.  He stood at the doorway and finally, after he mentally struggled on his body’s motion, collapsed to the ground.  “Jane…Please talk to me” he said softly.  “Jane…Please speak to me!” he screamed out.  She did not move or make a sound, her present condition not allowing her to.  If awake she would yell and make Rick miserable, but to him that would be preferable to indifference.  “I’m sorry Jane.”  The feeling of self-disgust enveloped him as he choked out those words.  Silence filled the room once again, wrecked periodically by the beeping of the ECG and Rick’s crying.