Childhood memories-Edward Cullen

(this follows after BRACELET)

My mother had been settled in the women’s quarantine facility. I had hoped we could stay together. I was sixteen I didn’t want to die alone. I needed my mother to comfort me or at least be there so I would pretend to believe her when she said “It will all be okay, we’ll be home soon, don’t worry honey”. I wanted to believe yet I knew my fate was coming either death or eternal damnation, I would not linger much longer in this live.

My ward was covered with white sheets and cots, the noise of the disease eating away every man’s lungs was unbearable, my pain would soon get worse and I had the opportunity to observe how bad it would be. A nurse soon approached me, I was in the doorway not sure what to do with myself, she told me to follow her, and so I did. We neared a cot with white sheets and a blanket neatly folded resting on the end of the bed.

“Strip down yours clothes. They will be incinerated.” She had a white gown under her arm which she presented to me. “Put this on and try to get some rest. The doctor will be here shortly to access your condition and prescribe the meds.”

I nodded. Too awkward to reply decently I swiftly took off all layers of clothing covering my body. As I did so the thought that the nurse was the only women to ever see my naked body apart from my mother crossed my mind and I blushed, like an embarrassed little child. I felt so horrible in that place, feeling the liquid that was building in my lungs making it hard for me to breathe making it painful to think. All I longed for was numbness, to feel nothing at all. The nurse looked impatient; the ward I was in was pretty much full so I reckon she would have her hands full. She took my clothes and tried not to touch them unnecessarily. I suppose they were infested with the virus that was eating me from the inside.

“Thank you dear. Now, do you know how to make the bed or you need me to do so?”

“I know how thank you ma’m”- I garbled as best as I could considering my parched throat and mushy lungs. She left hurriedly in direction to the further exit of the ward.

The gown I had on was much too thin for Chicago’s autumn; I quickly got under the single blanket that protected me from hypothermia. I tried to sleep however the thought of death, not my own but my mother’s kept thrusting in my mind. Suddenly I heard some call.

“Hey mate can't sleep eh?”- I tried to make out who had talked but the darkness was too thick.

“Don’t worry mate as soon as the doc comes back he’ll give you something for the pain and you’ll be fine”- and with that reassurance I was able to go under for a few hours.

I couldn’t be dawn yet, there was not enough light. I woke up with the sound of a truly melodic voice however the sound didn’t match the message it was giving.

“I need to draw blood to see how far has the disease progressed, so please would you mind giving me your arm?” – Ugh needles. I unwillingly presented my arm to the cordial doctor. He will make me better I kept thinking.

After he was done he did a quick work up to make sure I had nothing broken or too badly bruised, he had explain that sometimes people would faint and hit the ground pretty harshly. The disease would mask the pain of the fall and they’d forget to tell him what had happened. A guy had died of internal bleeding due to that. That was not reassuring at all.