Young Writers Society

Author's Note: Mainly what I'm curious about here is, are their reactions realistic, and are the characters fairly consistent? Thanks guys!

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Michelle rushed into the hospital, a middle-aged woman a few paces behind her, and looked around frantically. “Which way? Which floor did they say?”

“They didn’t,” Naomi said, brushing the snow off her jacket hurriedly. “Lets check the directory. Do you want to visit Danielle or Alison first?”

Michelle glanced back at her mother, glaring, as though to say, What do you think? Naomi sighed, and walked briskly up to the sign. Running her finger down the list, she looked briefly over at her daughter and then back at the sign, saying, “What’s another word for head trauma? I can’t really remember.”

“Neurology,” Michelle said, her voice tired and impatient. “It deals with the nervous system. Dani is in a coma, which has to do with the nervous system.”

“I know what’s wrong with Danielle, I don’t need a full explanation, I just needed the floor. Neurology is fourth floor. I’ll be on the second floor with Alison. I don’t want to fight with you, so lets leave it at this. You’re upset.” Naomi turned, about to make her way over to the elevator, and then stopped, causing Michelle to run right into her in her haste. “Wouldn’t she be in ICU?”

Michelle’s sharp intake of breath echoed throughout her head. She hadn’t considered that possibility. Surely, her mother was right, but…Michelle didn’t want to believe that her friend could be in such peril. Last time Dani had been in the ICU, her lungs had been three-quarters full of liquid, her pulse was scarily low, and she’d been connected to a breathing machine. No, the ICU didn’t hold good memories for her. Michelle bit her lip, trying to keep from coming out with some sort of smart, agitated remark, and closed the distance to the elevator. The two stepped in together, pressing the buttons they needed, and after Naomi got out, it seemed like the two floors it needed to go up crept by at a snail’s pace. She leaned back against the wall, her eyes closed.

How could this have happened? Everything was going so well.

It seemed like forever before the elevator doors opened, and she had to keep herself from breaking into a run as she made her way towards the desk. An orderly nurse sat on a chair behind it, typing at a computer, looking over every once in a while at a clipboard. Michelle waited for a polite minute, and then spoke up. “Excuse me?”

“Yes?”

How could she do that? Just keep typing, looking back at the clipboard, without even looking up? This wasn’t right.

“I’m looking for someone.”

“That’s generally what this desk is used for.”

Michelle looked down at the ground, clenching her hands into fists and counting to five. “Her name is Dani – I mean, Danielle – Cooper. She was brought in on Friday evening.”

“How are you related to her?”

“I-I’m not. I’m one of her best friends. Can you tell me, which room is she in?”

“No.”

Taken aback, it took Michelle a minute to formulate her answer. Staring at the slightly older woman, she had enough time to acquire an instant dislike for the straw-like blonde hair and cold green eyes. “But…” She didn’t even get a chance to finish.

“If you’re not related, you can’t get in to see a patient. Those are the rules.”

“But I-”

“Those are the rules, miss. Now, if you’ll please turn around and go back down the way you came, I’m sure you can find your way out on your own. Unless you need some sort of escort?”

Jesus, the woman wouldn’t call security over this, would she?

Apparently, Michelle thought she might. Pressing her lips in a firm line, she began to shuffle back over to the elevator – maybe after a little while, Dani would be in better condition, and non-family members could see her. Normally, she would’ve put up more of a fight, but she didn’t feel like raising a stink, especially not in a hospital. She pressed the button, and was leaning against it, her eyes closed, as she rubbed her forehead to try and disperse the headache that was forming. She heard footsteps behind her, and, assuming it was just someone else who wanted to use the elevator, she paid them no attention. However, when she was tapped on the shoulder, she jumped in surprise, and opened her eyes wide.

“Hey,” Jack said softly, sliding his hand back in his pocket. “You came.”

“Yeah, I came as soon as I could! I tried to go and see her, but they wouldn’t let me, because I’m not-”

“Related, yeah, I know. I came across that obstacle too.”

“So you haven’t seen her…”

“No, I saw her.”

“But, you just said-she just said-” Michelle gestured in vain at the nurse. Jack shook his head, his face tired and sad.

“I went to see Alison for a while first. She was a bit scratched up, but she’s doing alright. Anyway, since there’s no one else who can visit Dani within the family, Alison told one of the nurses that I could be sort of a surrogate brother.”

“And that worked?” Michelle said incredulously.

“Yeah, thankfully,” he said, scrubbing the back of his head with one hand. “So, after some finagling, Helen finally let me in to see her.”

“Helen?”

“The receptionist nurse. You were just talking to her,” he said, his voice clearly puzzled. “Well, she’s actually very nice. Quite agreeable, just a bit of a stickler about the rules.”

Shaking her head incredulously, Michelle adopted a different tactic. “How is she?”

“Christ, Michelle, what do you think? Not good…she’s really beat up. I’m not squeamish, you know that. But seeing her like that…it shook me up. Can we…let’s go sit down…ok?”

She nodded, and followed him down the hall, and into the family lounge. Settling onto one of the chairs, she leaned back and tried to get comfy. Finally settling into a semi-comfy position, with her feet up on the side of the chair and her back against one of the arms, she settled her head on her hand and said softly, “So what have you been doing? How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here since about ten o’clock. Dad was here for a few minutes; he just sort of helped me cut through the red tape and stuff. I’ve just sort of been…I don’t know…restless, I guess. I guess I should get back to calling people.”

Michelle frowned. “Why?”

Jack looked down at her, his hands in his pockets, and said, his voice puzzled, “Well, in case you’ve forgotten, Dani is in a coma. People are going to want to know.”

She shook her head, standing. Not that this gave her any advantage, height-wise. This was ridiculous. “This isn’t what she’d want. You know Dani, she hates having people worry about her.”

“Michelle, I know that as well as you. Maybe better,” Jack said, his voice hard. “But I think we’re entitled this time around. She’s in a coma.”

“Stop throwing that word around like it means something!”

“Bloody hell, Mick! Coma, comatose, pick whichever word you like! But I’m not about to keep my hopes up! People don’t wake up from these things.”

“Don’t call me Mick,” she hissed, though her resolve instantly softened. He knew the affect that nickname had on her, and he hardly ever used it. The only time he used it was when she was getting mad, a little out of hand even. It was like a code word. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to recall the last time he’d called her that. She couldn’t remember. Opening her eyes again, Michelle said, her voice seething, “They do. Sometimes it just takes a couple of days, a week, maximum, and they wake up.”

“Do you know how small that chance is?” Jack said, his arms crossed. She met his gaze, and had to look away. The hurt, the sadness, the anger in his eyes was too plainly shown, and she couldn’t handle it right now. She already had enough of it in her own head. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. It was almost Christmastime; snow had covered the city for weeks; school was almost at an end for the holidays. They were supposed to go Christmas shopping! Dani would wake up, she had to. She had no choice. She had to wake up so they could go to the mall and stop at Starbucks afterwards. Dani would break her all-year routine of a tall coffee, and have a gingerbread latté. Jack and Michelle would each have apple cider, and the three of them would split a ginger cookie. If she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the tangy cider, almost taste the sugary baked good. Opening them after a few seconds, she focused on Jack.

“Just let me cling to that chance,” Michelle said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. She took a step forward, trying to close the physical, and emotional, distance between them. He watched her walk forward, but didn’t move. She took another step forward. “Please. Our best friend is in a coma, and we’re standing here fighting. It’s almost Christmas. Lets not spend the next few days stressing about something that might not even happen. Please.”

Jack shook his head, as though trying to clear some sort of negative energy from it, and put a hand on her shoulder. Squeezing gently, he said, “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just a shock.”

“I know,” she said, looking up at him. Pulling away, she put her purse down on the chair and turned back to him, her hands on her hips. “So, why don’t you let me call a few people? Just give me half of the list.”

He frowned, absent-mindedly rubbing his hands together. Looking over at the outdated magazines, he said, “What list? I don’t really know what you mean.”

Sighing, she supported her head on one of her hands. “You can’t just randomly call people from memory, Jack.”

“Why? And my memory isn’t that bad.”

“What if you accidentally call someone twice? Who wants to hear this kind of news twice?” Michelle said, picking up one of the magazines and flipped through it for a distraction. Tossing it down a minute later, giving up on trying to make sense of all the trashy articles, she crossed her arms and looked up at him.

“Well-I mean-” Rubbing his face with his hands, Jack groaned, rubbing his eyes gently. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a bit less edgy. “Maybe you’re right. Normally, my memory’s okay, but I have a feeling that I’m not really thinking straight right now. Here … I’ll write down the people that I’ve already called, and then we can work out a list from there, okay?”

Michelle nodded, her stance a little less tense. She needed something to do. That might keep her mind off things. Or rather … it would give her some time to mull over them, and then perhaps later, she could deal with them. Leaning against the wall, she watched him scrawl a few names on a piece of paper. She closed her eyes, raising her head so her hair could fall away from her face.

“What about the dance?”

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked briefly down at the crumpled piece of paper he held out to her. Taking it with numb fingers, she looked back up at his face and said, “What dance? The school one? The one right before the holidays?”

“Yeah. Do you still want to go? I mean … even if she wakes up, she probably won’t be strong enough to go. It’s this Thursday.”

“I know, I just-shouldn’t we-” She shook her head. “Sorry. You’re not the only one who’s scatter-brained right now. If she wakes up, I’m going to want to stay with her on the night of the dance.”

“Me too, it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. But if she doesn’t?”

Michelle looked across the room. Letting the peacefulness of the white walls fall over her, she walked over to the crate of toys and knelt down on the floor. Picking up a small doll, she rubbed a finger gently over the cheek, the loose eye, the sparse hair.

“Michelle?”

She squeezed it comfortingly, and put it into the crate. Looking at the little wooden dog she’d grabbed, its blue coat chipped from use, and probably many falls onto the floor. Caressing its red wheels, a small smile spread across her face. She spun one of the front ones – once – twice –

“Michelle?”

Shoving it in the crate, she stood and faced him, the smile wiped away. “Lets just see if we can get through the first couple of days at school, alright? It’s not like there’s anything left to do for the dance anyway. We don’t have to go shopping for outfits, our transportation is all arranged, we bought the tickets.”

Tilting her own head slightly to the left, as though appraising him, she crossed her arms once more, waiting for a response.

“Yeah. Do you think we’ll be alright to go back tomorrow?”

Walking over to the doorway, her steps hesitant, she said, “We managed all the other times. Besides, Ms. Darwin’s going to give her famed ‘concrete and abstract’ speech. We can’t miss that, can we?” Halting beside him, she looked up at him, her brown eyes troubled, perhaps searching. She had to hold onto some glimpse of reality, of the way things were before the accident. She just didn’t know how. When he gave her a little smile, however, she almost sighed in relief, returning the smile. At least they could still do that.

And she really didn’t want to miss the speech. They’d been hearing about it ever since they’d entered high school. Apparently, Ms. Darwin was the one teacher who could talk about the subject of concrete and abstract poetry without putting you to sleep or boring you so much you forgot to take notes. She’d been looking forward to it ever since she’d heard of it. Poetry fascinated her, and she couldn’t wait to see what her teacher’s take on the subject was.

“So we finally get to hear it, eh?”

Michelle nodded, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. “If you’d been listening on Friday, you would’ve heard her say that.” Her teasing was rewarded with a slight reddening on his cheeks, and the smile on her own face widened. She knew for a fact that he’d been doodling for most of the class.

In a hurried attempt to change the subject, Jack said, “I’ll be surprised if Tonya manages to stay awake.”

He’d named one of the girls in their class who was notorious for grabbing a few winks during classes; Tonya hardly ever got caught either, except in Ms. Darwin’s class. Their English teacher was scarily perceptive, and hardly missed a thing that went on in her class. She was also the one teacher who could usually hold students’ attention, no matter what the topic was. She was able to bring out the best in most students; she could really make them think. Many of her assignments were discussion based, and most of the students’ answers were lengthy, well thought-out, and thought provoking. Ms. Darwin also didn’t mind a few comments interjected, as long as they were relevant to the material. In fact, she welcomed a differing opinion, and she was always ready to debate with a student on a topic. Dani had often enjoyed taking advantage of that, and had been one of the top students.

Interestingly enough, Tonya and Dani had been friends at one point, or at least that’s what Michelle had gathered from the brief time she’d seen them like that. When they were ten, however, something had caused a rift between the two girls, and, ever since, the only contact the two exchanged were verbal barbs and the occasional steely, female-patented glare. Whenever Jack or Michelle asked what had happened, Dani just brushed it off abruptly and refused to open up. Jack, at one point, compared Dani to an oyster that absolutely would not give up its pearl. She’d retorted with the statement that not everything was as dramatic or romantic as it seemed in books, and that it was a perfectly boring and stupid reason, and that she’d rather not share it.

They’d backed off after that. For Dani to not dramatize something was unusual. An actress and fiction writer, she was a drama queen in her own right. Whenever she could make a dramatic entrance, she did so. Whenever it was possible to ham things up a bit, she did so. Whenever she felt something needed some ‘spicing up’, so to speak, she did so.

Walking over to a chair, Michelle sat down on it and smoothed the piece of paper out on the coffee table, taking a pen out of her purse.