Sickroom #2

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I awoke slowly that morning. I was facing the wall and for a moment, I thought I was still in my usual room with Tarah, still with a close friend. But then the truth hit me, crushing my delicate smile.

I turned around in my bed to look at the new roommate. Maybe the last time I'd not seen him clearly. But really, when I looked again, it was just as bad- maybe worse. His face was still lightly tanned, so he hadn't been out of the sun long enough to get a yellow tint to his skin. The scar seemed thin, except for the irritation around it- one skinny line red-brown ran from his right scalp to the left side of his lip. Surrounding the scab was at least an inch on each side of angry red, shiny skin. In his sleep, a small smile formed upon his lips- his dry, cracked lips.

A knock came on our door- he shifted in his sleep and his eyes cracked open just as I turned to open it for the meal cart. The nurse smiled as she passed in two brown paper bags of food, one for each of us, and a two plastic baggies of medications. "You're new," she said softly, her voice accompanied by a soothing smile. "Or... are you a transfer?"

"Transfer," I replied as I backed away from the door- but the nurse didn't even look back.

I scootched back to my bed, and hand him a bag of food and the bag of meds that did not seem to be mine.

"What's your name," I asked, unpacking a sandwich, a water bottle, and an apple.

"Cyprus Taylor. Yours?"

"Bermuda Halbert. I'm fifteen... and you are..."

He smiled again. "I'm twenty, and you're very pretty."

I was entirely unsure of what to reply to that- no one had ever looked at me before. My sister was always the pretty one- my twin sister, Alex. She had a constant stream of boys, and even now in heaven or wherever, she probably had a boyfriend.

"Um, thanks...?" I held the last syllable for an extra second, and then dotted it with a question. "What happened to you?"

"I tried to defend my town. My sister ran off the moment she could, but I stayed to try and help anyone else. Brute soldier ran a switchblade down my face before I could knock him out, then the S.S.Darbon gunned the crap outta them and picked me up."

"How long ago?" I asked, suddenly interested. The last three weeks I had been in a sickroom, I had been on deck exactly once, and the moment I had seen the sun I had fainted.

"Eleven days. They knocked me out and covered my gash with quick-heal, so it healed pretty fast but it still hurts like heck." He looked over at me with a winning smile. "You?"

"Village attacked, so I hid in the woods for a few days until the Darbon showed up. My family... they weren't so lucky. Your sister?"

The smile he had on his face fell slowly. "I'm hoping she's okay. I'm sorry for your loss, Bermuda."

I grabbed my sandwich and took a bite, then took a swig of water along with my meds. "Soo..." I said, trying to figure out what else to say. We were forced into an uncomfortable silence as we ate.

That I fell into an uneasy sleep, just a few feet from a boy. My mother had been very protective of my sister and I- even Alex's boyfriends couldn't come into our small home.
The thought of her set me into a rocket of tears. I turned my back to Cyprus and cried, hoping that he was asleep- but no such luck. ten minutes later I head his voice very quietly say, "Bermuda?"

I turned, my flow of tears stopping, and wiped my eyes. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

I scowled at him. "No," I said angrily. "Do I look okay? Just go to sleep." I turneed my back to him and pulled my blanket up to cover all of my body. It was warmer than I would of preferred, but it gave a slight illusion of privacy.


"Cyprus?" I asked one day, two weeks after we had come together, just as we were about to go to sleep.

"Yeah?"

"Did you have a girlfriend in your town?"

He shook his head. "No, I just.. I like you alot, Bermy."

I turned my back and smiled. Even though he was no beauty, he could still be pretty charming. "Thanks," I said softly. "I guess I like you too."
Last edited by EmiAnne on Fri Jun 04, 2010 2:44 am, edited 1 time in total.
Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow"
-mary anne radmacher




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Hey, nice work! This feels... incomplete though. I feel like you need more grief- your main characters lost her parents and sister and everyone and now all she can really hold on to is the guy in the bed next to hers. Also, i want to know more about these violent injuries they have and this ship they're on. you know, just more setting in general. reading this feels like a fantastic base for a story but you need to flesh it out and decorate it and to make it into a bigger story. I am so excited to see the final out come!

Lily.
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Hey there! I still like this story, however (nitpick time):
It seems incomplete to me also.
I think you need to add more emotion to your MC, she seems dry and lacking something.
Honestly, Cyprus sounds a little bit creepy, kinda like the 'too-nice guy'.

So far, I still like this story, keep writing!
~LPR
Star light; star bright,
It is time to take flight.
Off I go through the dark of night.
All my hopes and dreams in sight.




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Hello again! Yes, this still interests me, but the age thing is starting to get a bit creepy. I agree with LittlePetRock, he is a bit too nice. Maybe I'm wrong, but if he's your love interest, I would consider making him a bit younger.

That's all! :)

-Chrissie
"I’m usually that guy who violently kicks off his shoes at the front door because there’s something about fake wooden kitchen linoleum that appears inviting to the feverish socked footsies." - Adam Young/Owl City




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Yay! Thanks for the reviews from everyone so far, and I've edited it to make it less creepy and everything. I'm posting my next one soon, though, so be on the lookout!
Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow"
-mary anne radmacher



I think that was when I began to realize that reputation isn't everything. I should focus less about how others perceive me and more about what makes me happy. Because, in the end, I have to live with myself.
— Seraphina