Something was wrong here. Dr. Dutter was writing in her file as chills went up her spine. It was like all of a sudden, the air had changed in the room and it got suddenly cold. There seemed to be a low hissing coming from behind the ugly curtain.
Did the doctor hear the odd sound or was he just pretending he didn’t?
Ethel told herself, her mind was just playing tricks on her. The old man was passed out and not going to grab her in the night. And the strange sounds were probably some machine Mr. Grant was hooked up to. She truly hoped.
“Shouldn’t someone check on my roommate, Mr. Grant?”
The doctor gave Ethel a look like he smelled something foul.
“Thanks for the concern. Maybe when you get better you can fill out an application to volunteer…Mr. Grant’s been out for days. Poor old soul. He is a very sick man.”
Before Ethel could tell the Doctor off for being rude, his phone rang again and he said his farewells and left the room in a hurry. She knew doctors were overworked, but he seemed very nervous about something.
Maybe she should mind her own business.
The sun was starting to set. Ethel could see Christmas lights lighting up from her window in the fancy apartment buildings from outside. Must be on timers . Some apartments even had Christmas trees in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
Ethel took forever to get out of bed, dragging her IV, and slowly walking past the closed curtains of Mr. Grant, she let out her breath only when she closed the bathroom door. She could have sworn she heard a noise behind that curtain. Almost like scratching sounds. Fear set in, but she tossed it away. She was imagining things, Ethel told herself. Or was she?
After leaving the bathroom, Ethel paused again by the ugly curtain. A quiet hissing sound was coming from inside and it made her cringe. She had the urge to pull it open and see what Mr. Grant looked like, and find out if he was alright. She put her hand to the fabric and was ready to slide it open until she thought better of it. A nurse could check on him instead. Why embarrass the man?
Ethel dragged her IV and went towards the hallway and stood in the doorway, peering out. The hallway was lit darkly with blinking fluorescent lights overhead. The place was eerily quiet. Her room was at the end of the hall. Looking down the hallway, she thought she could see the tip of a nurses’ station, but wasn’t sure. The place was so quiet, she almost wondered if she was dreaming the whole thing. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw a movement of some kind. The light flashed on an old woman coming down the hallway. She wore huge glasses and was in a wheelchair, and seemed to be dragging her feet out of the thing. Creepy.
She didn’t want to drag her IV down the hall and thought she should ask the old woman when she got closer. It was hard to see the lady in the wheelchair as she steered towards Ethel’s room door slowly. Ethel only saw flashes of the withered face as the lights blinked on and off.
The light was out in front of Ethel’s doorway. When the old woman was under it, she couldn’t really see her face. The silence was freaking her out and she wondered if the woman was mental. Shame made her think that the woman could be too ill to speak.
“Hello, there. My name is Ethel Cunningham.”
Silence.
“I think my roommate needs help. Is that the nurses’ station down there?”
Silence.
Finally the old woman mumbled something that made the sparse blonde hair on Ethel’s arms stand up straight. Ethel took a step back, just as the light above her door came on with a buzzing sound. The old woman has wiry grey hair and faded green eyes through her glasses. Now that she could see the old woman well-lit, Ethel let out a gasp. There was a huge hole in the old woman’s throat.
Someone had stabbed her!
Ethel bent down and tried to cover the woman’s gash.
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