something, but I catch that serious look in Tobias’ eyes and my lips fall closed again.
When he said we’d be going to a hospital, I expected something much larger. The building is small, maybe only about two stories tall, and carries a far homier vibe than I think of when I hear the term hospital .
“Hello, Tobias!”
He gives the woman sitting at the front desk a quick wave, but he doesn’t slow down.
“They know you here…” I say.
“Yeah,” he mutters.
We round the first corner and I catch glimpses of the patients lying in the passing rooms. They’re all small and fragile, with weak bodies and translucent skin. Unconscious and unmoving. Their lives attached to machines. I slow down my stride, transfixed by the sight, when the reality begins to dawn on me.
This is where people go to die.
“Tobias…” I whisper.
He turns back and takes my hand. “Come on,” he says. “Just keep your head down.”
I stare at my feet and I let him drag me through the silent hallways until we he finally pauses in front of an open doorway.
“Claire,” he begins, “this is Mary.”
I look into the room. There’s a girl, no older than myself, lying in the bed. Her eyes are closed. Her black hair, long and perfect, lies on either side of her pale face. Her hands, small like mine, lie across her lap with overlapping fingers. A rhythmic whooshing sounds cuts the silence in pieces as a respirator forces air into her lungs through a plastic tube sticking out of her mouth.
I turn away. “What happened to her?” I ask Tobias.
He steps into the room. I stay behind, clinging to the doorway. “She got mixed up with some bad people,” he says, staring down at Mary’s serene expression. “Started taking drugs, staying out all night. She’d go missing for days at a time and come back home blitzed out of her mind with no memory of where she was — or so she claimed.”
My feet carry me inside. “Where were you?”
“I…” He keeps his head down. “I was too busy with my own shit to even notice that she needed my help. Dad tried, but… by then it was already too late. One day, she didn’t come home at all.” He reaches out to her and touches her hands softly, careful not to disturb her graceful pose. “They found her by the side of the road, about a mile away from the house.”
I clutch my chest, staring across the room at her thin face. “Jeez…” I breathe, unable to process any other words or sounds.
He turns to me and somehow, he shows a smile to lighten the mood. “They want to move her somewhere smaller and closer to home, but…” He shakes his head once. “She can’t get the care she deserves there. As long as we keep paying, they can’t touch her.”
I look into his dark eyes. “Is this why you fight?” I ask slowly.
“She’s why I fight,” he says. “The money I get from the tournament will be more than enough to keep her here until she wakes up.”
“Do they think she will?”
“Doc says there’s a good chance.” He looks at her again. “That’s good enough for me.”
My eyes wander her pale, blank face, as he leans over to plant a kiss on her head. “I feel awful…” I mutter.
“Why?” he asks.
“I live in her room.”
Tobias steps away from the bed. “Don’t feel bad, Claire.” He pauses next to me. “Beds were meant to be slept in. Books were made to be read.” His eyes fall to my jacket. “Clothes were meant to be worn. She’d want that.”
My skin crawls. “I’m so sorry, Tobias,” I say, forcing the lump in my throat down.
He smiles again and cups my cheek with warm fingers. “Well, I get the feeling she’d like you. Probably wouldn’t mind you borrowing her stuff for a little while.”
It’s supposed to comfort me, but the lump grows. This girl — she’s just like me in almost every way. One more party, one more hit, one more burst of anger from Rick, and it could be me lying in this bed, trapped inside a body that no longer does its
When he said we’d be going to a hospital, I expected something much larger. The building is small, maybe only about two stories tall, and carries a far homier vibe than I think of when I hear the term hospital .
“Hello, Tobias!”
He gives the woman sitting at the front desk a quick wave, but he doesn’t slow down.
“They know you here…” I say.
“Yeah,” he mutters.
We round the first corner and I catch glimpses of the patients lying in the passing rooms. They’re all small and fragile, with weak bodies and translucent skin. Unconscious and unmoving. Their lives attached to machines. I slow down my stride, transfixed by the sight, when the reality begins to dawn on me.
This is where people go to die.
“Tobias…” I whisper.
He turns back and takes my hand. “Come on,” he says. “Just keep your head down.”
I stare at my feet and I let him drag me through the silent hallways until we he finally pauses in front of an open doorway.
“Claire,” he begins, “this is Mary.”
I look into the room. There’s a girl, no older than myself, lying in the bed. Her eyes are closed. Her black hair, long and perfect, lies on either side of her pale face. Her hands, small like mine, lie across her lap with overlapping fingers. A rhythmic whooshing sounds cuts the silence in pieces as a respirator forces air into her lungs through a plastic tube sticking out of her mouth.
I turn away. “What happened to her?” I ask Tobias.
He steps into the room. I stay behind, clinging to the doorway. “She got mixed up with some bad people,” he says, staring down at Mary’s serene expression. “Started taking drugs, staying out all night. She’d go missing for days at a time and come back home blitzed out of her mind with no memory of where she was — or so she claimed.”
My feet carry me inside. “Where were you?”
“I…” He keeps his head down. “I was too busy with my own shit to even notice that she needed my help. Dad tried, but… by then it was already too late. One day, she didn’t come home at all.” He reaches out to her and touches her hands softly, careful not to disturb her graceful pose. “They found her by the side of the road, about a mile away from the house.”
I clutch my chest, staring across the room at her thin face. “Jeez…” I breathe, unable to process any other words or sounds.
He turns to me and somehow, he shows a smile to lighten the mood. “They want to move her somewhere smaller and closer to home, but…” He shakes his head once. “She can’t get the care she deserves there. As long as we keep paying, they can’t touch her.”
I look into his dark eyes. “Is this why you fight?” I ask slowly.
“She’s why I fight,” he says. “The money I get from the tournament will be more than enough to keep her here until she wakes up.”
“Do they think she will?”
“Doc says there’s a good chance.” He looks at her again. “That’s good enough for me.”
My eyes wander her pale, blank face, as he leans over to plant a kiss on her head. “I feel awful…” I mutter.
“Why?” he asks.
“I live in her room.”
Tobias steps away from the bed. “Don’t feel bad, Claire.” He pauses next to me. “Beds were meant to be slept in. Books were made to be read.” His eyes fall to my jacket. “Clothes were meant to be worn. She’d want that.”
My skin crawls. “I’m so sorry, Tobias,” I say, forcing the lump in my throat down.
He smiles again and cups my cheek with warm fingers. “Well, I get the feeling she’d like you. Probably wouldn’t mind you borrowing her stuff for a little while.”
It’s supposed to comfort me, but the lump grows. This girl — she’s just like me in almost every way. One more party, one more hit, one more burst of anger from Rick, and it could be me lying in this bed, trapped inside a body that no longer does its
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