rissy stories

Caroline had successfully avoided hospitals and their emergency rooms for the duration of two whole years after her incident… but that ended when her 15 year old little sister shrieked of abdominal pain at 2:43 AM on a cold, dark, February morning. Caroline’s parents roused her from a perfect night’s sleep at 2:55 AM.

“What do you mean Charlie needs the emergency room?” Caroline anxiously asked after the update. She pushed herself into an upright position and pulled her long,

black hair away from her blue eyes so she could clearly see her mother’s concerned expression underneath a layer of green facial mask that made her look like a witch.

“We think her appendix needs to be taken out,” Her mother explained worriedly to her pale, 18 year old daughter. Caroline felt a pang of guilt about her fear having absolutely nothing to do with Charlotte, but hospitals paralyzed her. She tried to create an excuse to stay home without looking like a terrible sister, but her mother spoke again, “It’s all going to be okay. Just throw on a coat, put on slippers, and get in the car.”

Hospitals are scary places for squeamish people who can’t stand the sight of blood, for people who have never visited a hospital before, or for people who have phobias of needles and germs. However, Caroline pictured it as a haunted mansion where physical and mental scars resurface as a constant reminder that bad things happen there.

Everyone piled into the car at 3:00 AM with Caroline in the backseat, rubbing Charlotte’s back and muttering sweet nothings to her such as, “don’t worry, it’s alright,” or “we’re almost there, you’re going to be fine,” or the classic: “it’s all going to be okay.”

Meanwhile, Caroline’s heart palpitated as Mercy County Hospital, the closest one to their house, came into view across the highway. The tall, rectangular building with thousands of bright, tiny, square windows lit up the darkness and loomed over the land surrounding it like an angry monster waiting to devour anyone who dared tread near, and the bright red EMERGENCY sign indicated it’s mouth. It’s all going to be okay.

She stared at it long and hard, trying to mentally prepare herself before being sucked into the hospital vortex, but long before she was ready, her father parked their orange SUV in front of the emergency room door at 3:10 AM. Caroline, her mother and sister flew out of the car, a gust of frozen wind singeing their faces and nearly knocking

them over. Her father sped away to park the car while they approached “the lion’s den.” It’s all going to be okay. Caroline placed one fuzzy slipper inside the building.

She instantly froze as her mother and sister continued ahead of her. Her breath became shallow and her legs had gone numb, pins and needles pricking at her fingertips. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears as she looked to the right of the waiting area. She observed two rows of green-cushioned chairs, one row facing the other, just like she remembered. The enormous windows behind the second row were still covered with large, black sheets that prevented anyone from the outside to witness the torture within.

Caroline saw a skinny, pale, ill-looking 16 year-old girl with short black hair and glassy blue eyes. She was staring into space, bouncing her leg up and down, and listening to her iPod while slouching in a chair in the middle of the first row, facing the windows. There was a woman nurse in green scrubs with curly light-brown hair and glasses sitting next to the girl with her legs crossed, ferociously writing things down on a piece of paper as she tried to make small talk with the girl. The girl periodically rolled her eyes, but the routine broke when a middle-aged woman sitting at the far end of the second row started frothing at the mouth, white foam dripping onto her blouse, and she jerked around uncontrollably. Several nurses rushed over to help place her on a gurney and wheel her away. The girl watched in horror, but the nurse looked undisturbed.

“I hate it when that happens.” She replied casually. The girl looked at the woman like she had three heads, but when Caroline blinked… the scene vanished. The girl and nurse were replaced with a young woman and her toddler son, both sitting in the chairs with a magazine and a Gameboy to occupy their time.

Caroline forced herself to breathe at 3:18 AM. It’s all going to be okay. She looked straight ahead and saw her sister and mother at the large, marble “Help Desk” a few feet away, staring at her with impatience and aggravation. Other noises from a frantic and busy emergency room flooded into Caroline’s ears as two enormous doors that separated the actual emergency room from the waiting area, kept swinging open and falling shut to her left. The countless beeping noises, doctors in white coats giving orders, nurses in scrubs gossiping, shoes squeaking on the polished, white floor as people walked to and fro with equipment and supplies, the rolling of gurney wheels, and secretary workers typing away felt like massive heat waves, making her sweat and recoil.

Caroline stared at the doors that were surely the gateway to Hell, and tried to swallow. She finally unfroze and rushed to her mother, who was wrapping a hospital bracelet around Charlotte’s wrist. Caroline’s breath hitched as she stared at the orange piece of paper, remembering her mother placing the same colored bracelet over her own wrist years ago, but Caroline’s wrists had been skinnier and covered with scabs then.

“We’re taking Charlie to a separate room for examination,” Her mother explained, snapping Caroline out of the flashback. Caroline looked down at her crying sister who was doubled over and holding her stomach, and she nodded frantically.

“Okay,” She replied, her voice pitch ten notches higher than normal. Her mother looked at her strangely as the three of them made their way around the large “Help Desk,” and towards a dimly lit room with a woman doctor waiting on the inside. Caroline’s palms clammed up as she remembered walking into that same room years ago.

“What’s the matter with you?” Her mother asked, elbowing her side. Caroline slightly jumped, bit her lip nervously, scratched the back of her head, and shrugged.

“N-nothing,” She stuttered unconvincingly. Her mother sighed and refocused on Charlotte. Caroline begrudgingly walked behind her little sister as she entered the stuffy room first. As soon as they fully entered the room at 3:23 AM, the same imaginary girl from the waiting area suddenly replaced her sister. The atmosphere thickened and Caroline struggled to breathe as she watched the girl step onto the weight scale: 100 lbs.

The doctor wrote down the number and then asked a series of questions that no teenage girl wants to answer with her parents in the room, such as: “Are you sexually active? When was your last menstrual cycle? How much sleep do you get? How long have you been feeling too anxious to eat? Don’t worry, it’s all going to be okay.”

Caroline cringed at every single question as well as the mixture of an antiseptic, disinfectant, and latex smell that suffocated her. She watched the girl whisper short answers while staring at all of the scary hospital equipment that covered every square inch of the room, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. The doctor was sitting right in front of her, next to a computer. She typed every single time the girl spoke, nodding at the girl as she did so. The girl sounded detached as she observed multiple IVs carrying bags of blood, two HAZARD bins with bloody gloves noticeable at the top of the pile, countless posters of disgusting visible symptoms of various diseases and CPR protocols covering the walls, and a couple of large, ominous needles lying on the counter.

However, the girl snapped back to attention when the doctor stood up and removed the ice-cold stethoscope from around her neck, checking the girl’s physical health: heart, lungs, ears, eyes, mouth, blood pressure, reflexes, etc. Ad nauseam.

“You’re going to need to sit in the waiting area with a nurse monitoring you at all times while we wait for a room to open up.” The doctor finally concluded. Suddenly, a

sharp pinch on Caroline’s arm brought her back. She gasped, blinked, and returned to the present. The doctor, her mother, and her sick sister were all staring at her again.

“W-what?” Caroline asked, knowing she had missed something.

“Charlotte has appendicitis, and she’ll be given a room immediately. She wants you to go with her while I go find your father.” Her mother explained again, slowly.

“Okay.” Caroline replied reluctantly. Her mother quickly left the room as Caroline helped Charlotte painfully climb down from the grey patient’s chair and into a black wheelchair with noisy wheels. The doctor pushed her out of the room of terror, which suddenly looked cozy in comparison to Hell’s gate. It’s all going to be okay. As soon as they pushed through the two doors at 3:39 AM, Caroline had another flashback.

She watched the same imaginary girl cautiously walk into the fourth room on her left, which was actually sectioned off by large, white curtains instead of solid walls. Therefore, she could clearly hear various moans, groans, complaints, and other gross noises coming from neighboring patients. The familiar stench of cafeteria food filled the air and a nurse in scrubs waltzed in, handing the girl a hospital gown.

“I’m going to have to go into the bathroom with you while you change,” She said politely. The girl’s shoulders slumped.

“Seriously?” The girl complained. The nurse then turned to Caroline.

“You don’t want to help your sister?” She asked suddenly. Caroline blinked a couple times again and realized that she had Charlotte’s hospital gown in her hands. Charlotte was leaning on a reclined patient bed with white sheets and thin, blue blankets.

“Oh, um…n-n-no, I do w-w-want to h-help her,” Caroline struggled to say with a flushed face as her parents pushed back the curtains and entered the area at 3:46 AM.

“Actually, your father is going to take Caroline home,” Her mother surprisingly told Charlotte. Caroline’s eyes closed with a massive amount of relief.

“What!? Why?” Charlotte asked frantically. Her father hesitated.

“Your sister needs to get some sleep, but she’ll visit tomorrow, when your not in the emergency room anymore,” He explained. Her mother took the hospital gown from Caroline’s hands while her father pulled her away before they could even say goodbye.

Caroline kept her head down this time and shut her eyes. She blocked out all of the noise and trusted her father to safely lead her out. Once she felt the comfort of the bitter cold weather outside, she opened her eyes, heard the doors close, and let out a shaky sigh of relief. Her father enveloped her in a tight hug, and Caroline simply laid her head against his shoulder and shivered. He kissed the top of her head at 4:00 AM and said, “I’m sorry, it’s alright. You’re safe now and it’s all going to be okay.”

-created by rissystories