| Chapter 17: Mark roamed the dimly lit halls. It was late that night. All of the other patients were asleep and new nurses had just signed on for their shift. These last few nights at the hospital had been restless, but no medication would help that. It was only because of one word. Boredom. He was bored, that was all there was to it. The TV played reruns that he had seen perhaps a hundred times. The radio played only soft love songs, and there was no use in using the phone. All of his pals would be fast asleep by now. The rubber tips at the bottom of his crutches squeaked as he walked, and he paused and leaned on his good foot, trying to ease the ache in his underarms. "Emily Quartermaine's downstairs. I wonder how she's holding up." A nurse at the nurses' station said. Mark's head jerked up at the sound of that name. Emily? The Emily who had struck up a conversation with him just the other day? "It must be tough." Another nurse agreed. "Mark?" Mark spun around to hear his name. "What are you doing up?" "Uh, I couldn't sleep. Amy, is Emily Quartermaine the girl who came into my room the other day." "You bet." Amy replied as she glanced down at a chart. "Is she here?" he asked. "She's downstairs." "Great. I'm gonna go say hi." Mark started to turn away as Amy looked up from the chart. "Oh, Mark. I'm sorry, I thought you knew." Mark looked at her, confused. "Emily isn't a visitor, she's a patient." Elizabeth placed two quarters down the slot and punched at the Coca-Cola button. The machine whirred and out tumbled a soda can. Liz bent down to pick it up and took several large gulps of the soft drink. She glanced down the hallway toward the room in which Emily lay, unmoving, and then to Lucky who was talking on the pay phone to someone with his forehead against the wall, a sign of sadness or frustration. "Emily please get better." She whispered. "Please." Lucky Spencer hung up the telephone and ran his fingers through his hair. He had just called Jason, who had promised to come right over. Lucky started back down the hallway, but paused, seeing Lizzie by the soda machine. Elizabeth walked up to him and held out the can of soda in which he took a sip. "How are you holding up?" she asked as he gave her back the drink. "How should I be? Liz, how could I have been so stupid?" "Lucky, you couldn't have known what was going on inside of her." "But I should have. If only I was a better friend to her." "Being here right now makes you a great friend." Liz gazed sadly at Lucky, who looked so hopeless. "Lucky?" She watched him, confused. He was staring over her shoulder, down the hallway. "What the hell?" Elizabeth turned around and followed his gaze to see a boy with dark brown hair on crutches, staring in the window to Emily's room. The brown haired boy gazed at the young girl who lay asleep on the bed. "Get better, Emily Quartermaine." The boy whispered. "Hey!" Lucky angrily grabbed his arm and whirled the boy around. "Who the hell are you?" |