Chapter 5 (ORNA’S P.O.V.)

The hospital's long white corridors and sterile lights make me uneasy. I can’t see how people work in places like this. I don’t like hospitals. I can always hear the thoughts of people, doctors, and patients alike. ‘No! STOP!’ Yells a voice.I can hear the screams and cries of the innocent. It sends chills up my spine. The hair on the back of my neck. It makes me shiver as a turn going around a corner that opens up into the waiting room.

Daxa sits in one of the chairs near the fire escape, playing with her hair, curling it. ‘Hello. Old friend. I haven’t seen you since…’ I start. ‘The incident.’ She turns to look at me. She doesn’t say a single word, she just stands up and walks towards a long winding hallway. She walks quickly making me speed-walk to keep up with her. She stops every so often to check and see if I’m following behind her. She stops outside of a door with a glowing white light coming out of it. She pushes the door open and says. “Fix him.”

“I’ll do my best. But, first, why did you bring him to the hospital? All of Robit’ Pokusy is looking for Rouge Headders. He’s clearly noticeab-“ I say but I look over at Böðúlfur. He is many different colours. He’s gray, green, purple and, blue. There is a bunch of swelling especially on his face. His eyes are blackened and, his hands are bent in weird ways. There are multiple casts and stitches everywhere on his body. There is a giant cut that goes across his cheek and his lips are busted. “What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this,” I say, my Irish accent coming out strongly.

“I don’t know. You’re more experienced than I am. Especially in the healing department.” She replies.

“Yes,” I sigh. “that may be the case but, I’m not that experienced.”

“Yeah, you are. You brought a person back from the dead for God’s sake!” She cries out, raising her voice at the end of the sentence.

“They technically weren’t dead.”

“They were brain dead!” She yells.

“Yes but, they weren’t completely dead.”

“Just heal him!” She snaps. “Please.”

“Well,” I say patronizingly. “Since you said please.”

I raise my hands above his arms and, concentrate on the energy flowing from his body. I can feel his life force. It’s weak. Very weak. I force it to become stronger. It’s like adding wood to a fire then, spraying gasoline on top of it. There is an, almost, instant explosive of vibrations radiating from him. I reach for his arm and, imagine it being mended together and it starts to move around until it’s back in place. Soon his entire body is covered with glowing white light and then it fades as if it never existed.

He starts to move around and, then he opens his eyes. His white eyes make him look more innocent and, pure, like a helpless kitten on the side of the road. He groans and then rolls over on his side. He mutters something that I cannot make out and closes his eyes.

“Well, that was slightly disappointing.” Daxa groans.

“He has a level two concussion,” I say matter-of-factly.

“I knew you could it.”

“Yes,” I say out of breath. “It did drain me.”

I try to keep my eyes open but it is just too difficult to keep them open. I’m so tired and drained of energy. ‘How can I be so drained? All I did is heal him not give him my powers.’ I think to myself. I take a seat next to Daxa. She must’ve sat down when I closed my eyes. She looks at me and says. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Haan,” I reply in Hindi.

“Stop. You shouldn’t be using your powers right now.”

“Tá an ceart agat.”

“I know I’m right. Now just relax and, take a nap or something.”

“Fine.”

I close my eyes and, try to sleep and soon, I’m gone into my dream world.

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I open my eyes and, I look around. I’m in a white room with big, bright, white lights shining down upon my face. A thin white cloth covers my naked body. Many machines are connected to my body in some way. I try to move but, my body is chained to the bed. “Stop struggling.” Says a deep voice that has a thick Slavic accent. Two men approach my bed and, start to fight against the restraints. They are in hazmat suits. They have a gas mask on and they close in on me.

One of the men has a massive syringe and, I instantly know what’s in it. The liquid glows neon black. The other man holds me still while the other inserts the syringe into my arm. I scream at the top of my lungs as he pushes down and the liquid flows into my body.

Daxa shakes me and I come out of the hellish nightmare with a deep gasp. She strokes my back and says. “It’s okay. It was just a nightmare.”

“I know it was but, it still is awful.” I sob.

“I know dear, but there is nothing that we can do to change it now.”
“I know,” I say sobbing even more.
Daxa holds me comfortingly and sshh’s me until I stop crying. Soon I just lay on her, in silence staring at the wall. I bolt upright and scream. “They’re coming!”
“Who’s coming?” Daxa asks. I glare at her and she nods her head. She carefully picks Böðúlfur up and, walks towards the door. I concentrate on the door trying to make it move without physically touching it. I imagine it opening and I concentrate on it opening and, I clear my mind of everything else. I hear the door open with a bang and Daxa tells me to come on. I follow behind her, quickly, trying to make my pace match hers. She walks down towards a door marked with a big red Keep Out sign on it. We enter it in silence.

The room is dark and, has many shelves with pills and syringes on it. There is a small brown table in the center of the room. I close the door behind me, trying not to make a sound. Daxa lays Böðúlfur on the table and holds his hand so tightly that her knuckles turn into a pale brownish white color. I grab Böðúlfur’s other hand and I look up at Daxa. One look is all it takes for me to know what she thinking. My entire body starts to tingle and, then I’m surrounded by a dim black light.

I open my eyes and I’m greeted with several people sitting around on a large brown couch. It looks too expensive for me to even touch it. I look around taking in the surroundings before I’m interrupted by a cracking voice. “Who is she?” asks the tanish boy with black hair and black eyes. There is a slight insulting tone in his voice that offends me. “An old friend,” Daxa says with a smirk.
“Why is she here?” Asks another boy that is sitting in the corner by a girl with brown and black hair.
“She is here because she saved Böðúlfur’s life,” Daxa tells them. “And if you don’t quit asking questions then your life will need to be saved.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Orna, do you need anything? What does Böðúlfur need for his concussion and is there anything else wrong with him?” Daxa asks frantically.
“He will need to be put in a room, without people,” I add. “For me to be able to clearly check and see if he has any more injuries. Now, who's the one who pushed him off the damned mountain?”
The girl in the corner with the brown and black hair, reluctantly, raises her hand. I walk over to her and carefully observe her features. She has high cheekbones and an averaged sized nose. “Why are you staring at me?” She says harshly, putting a hand on her hip. “Because I’m trying to decide what I’m going to do with you,” I reply matter-of-factly. She scowls at me as I turn on my heel and walk out of the large room.

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I walk into a room that has solid gold statues and beautiful paintings. There are one-way windows in the wall that look like rocks from the inside and out. The curtains around the window are black and very thin. I gaze out the window for a moment forgetting what I was supposed to be doing. Suddenly, I remember what I was supposed to be doing. Böðúlfur lays on the bed, unconscious, with a younger, shorter boy standing next to him holding his hand.

The shorter boy has tears in his eyes. He must realize that I’m standing there because, he wipes his tears away and, let’s go of Böðúlfur’s hand. I watch him for a moment. “Wh-what d-do y-you want?” He asks, his voice quivering. He eyes puffy from cry and wiping them away with his sleeve. I give him a confused look and say. “I was here first, and I’m supposed to check to see if there is anything else wrong with him.”
“I-I’m sor-“ He starts but, I don’t let him finish. I embrace him in a hug. I whisper in his ear. “It’s okay. I can tell that you like him but, you’re too afraid to he tell him.” He nods. I give him a friendly grin and ask him to sit. He takes a seat on the foot of the bed and watches me carefully as I move my hands, green light flowing out of them, over Böðúlfur’s body. “You know I was about six years old when I was brought to the orphanage. Everyone treated me like an Alien, like I didn’t belong, or even deserve to be there. He helped me through it.” He says, his voice shaking. I give him a supportive smile and nod for him to continue telling the story. “I wanted so badly to fit in with them, which was very hard no speaking their language,” He adds. “I eventually let it go, but it still bothers me that I wanted to fit in but I guess that I can’t do anything about it now and….” His voice trails off.

“What? What is it?” I ask him curiously.

“I… I like him.”

“So? He’s one of your friends. You’re supposed to like him.” I comment.

“Yes, but I think th-that I l-love him.” He stutters. I stare at him, the whole room falls silent and everything seems to stop in that moment. He shamefully looks down and starts to cry again.

“Hey don’t cry. It’s not that big of a deal.” I lie. It is a big deal. Your first crush. There could be nothing more important and delicate than a first crush. Especially when there is the very possibility that Böðúlfur only sees him as a good friend or a brother. It will crush him. It will tear him to pieces and obliterate his hopes and dreams of having a future with him.

“I should go.” He says standing up and walks out of the room and closes the door quickly. I want to tell to stop and come back but I decide that would be unwise. Böðúlfur wakes up in what seems like minutes or mere seconds after Håvard leaves. He looks like a ghost and a vampire all at once. His skin is snow white. His eyes sunken in. He looks like he and Death had a fight and he won, barely. He coughs and breathes heavily, I put my hand on his back as he coughs, patting it. When his coughing subsides I offer him a small glass of water. He is covered in sweat and is cold as ice. “W-w-what happened?” He croaks as he swallows all the water down in one gulp.

“You,” I start. “Were pushed off a mountain and barely managed to survive.”

“How long was I…” His voice trails off.

“How long were you out?” I ask.

“Yeah, how long was I out?”

“Um, when I got to you it was a couple of hours after you were pushed off the mountain so about twelve hours. Though you did… technically you did…. die. But it was only for a few seconds.” I add quickly.

“W-what?” He yells.

“You Died,” I repeat, but this time with more confidence than the last time. I look for some way to change the subject since he’s still confused this should be easy. “So, how’s things with you and Håvard?”

“No,” He croaks, his voice cracking. “Trying to change the subject.”

“But,” I start.

“Who are you anyway?” He asks quickly.

“I’m Orna, Do—Don’t you remember me?”

“No?” He says, unsure of whether or not this is a dream. He rubs his eyes and shakes his head.

“Well that’s not important, how do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He says, I laugh a little and reassure him that it’s normal.

“Nothing about me is normal.” He snaps.

“You got that right,” I say. He giggles a little, then he groans out in pain. There must be a little bruising on his ribs, but what can you expect after someone falls down a mountain. I think that he should be dead right now, I don’t even know how he managed to survive the fall. It’s entirely impossible to survive that fall. No one could’ve, but then again we were….projects.

He shifts himself a little with silent groans and whimpers. I look at him observing everything. He reminds me of my little brother that… no, I can’t think about it. I want to forget that day. I want it to just disappear from the calendars. “Where is everyone?” He asks.

“They are somewhere in this massive mountain,” I remark.

“That really helps.” He says sarcastically.

“I know right!” I patronize. He rolls his eyes and looks at me like I’m insane, which is probably true. He looks at me as if I'm about to tear him to pieces. He tries to sit up in the bed but I tell him to lie back down, because his body isn't ready for such a strain. He groans a little from pain. "I need to talk to Daxa, do you need anything while I'm out and about?" I ask him.

"No." He says hoarsely. I get up and wipe my sweaty hands on the back of my trousers and walk to the door. I glance back at him over my shoulder and he gives me what looks like a very painful smile. I give him a small grin and open the door. The light of the hallway spills into the dark room, along with it comes warm air. I didn't notice how cold the room was before until the warm air sends chills up my spine. I take the first step out of the room to see a tall boy coming towards me quickly.

He grabs my shirt and hoists me up and slams me against the wall. I cry out in pain and he laughs. "Why did you come here!" He exclaims. I fight his grip, but he won't let go. He holds on tightly even though I thrash and kick. I try to scream for help, but His hand grabs my throat and squeezes. "Cheapann tú go bhfuil tú cliste, ach tá tú rud ar bith níos mó ná fraochÚn balbh" He says in Irish. I don't know anyone outside of Ireland who can speak Irish. Most people in Ireland don't know how to speak Irish.

I try to calm myself down and picture a nice soft area, perhaps in Norway, or The Faeroe Islands. It is peaceful and calm. Nothing can hurt me there nothing is trying to kill me or stop me. It is just calm.