"Tell me what's going on!" I demanded again while the three of them continued to stand there in silence only occasionally breaking eye contact with the ground to glance nervously at each other. I was getting angrier and angrier with each passing second, my arms closed tightly across my chest and I could feel the livid expression on my face reaching something that must have been terrifying to look at because they sure as hell weren't.
Ray and Brian's voices travelled through the gaps of the ambulances and there were three simultaneous sighs of relief as Gerard, Frank and Sally realised our conversation couldn't continue. Stealing an angry glance at each of them once more, I walked out from behind the parked vehicle to face Brian.
"Thank god you're alright! We went to where we left you and you were gone; we panicked!" He pulled me to him in a hug but quickly pushed me away. "Eh, I think you might have eh..." he trailed off, awkwardly glancing at my crotch, unsure of what to say.
I felt my cheeks burn slightly, "Yeah, I know." I laughed quietly.
"Well anyway," Ray changed the subject while trying not to laugh, "They're gonna take you to the hospital now and get you checked out."
I looked around to the back of me but there was no sign of Frank, Gee or Sally.
"Okay." I nodded before following them.
"Well, Mr Way, everything's fine with you" The doctor smiled as he finished checking the insides of my ears, concluding one of the most vague and pointless check-ups I've ever had. "You're very lucky; a lot of people weren't so fortunate." His smile vanished as he turned away.
"Were there a lot of deaths?" I asked, playing distractedly with the coarse material of the hospital gown they had given me when the state -smell- of my trousers had gotten too unbearable.
He turned back to face me, fidgeting with a pen in his pocket, and smiled sullenly "Yes, yes there were a lot." He nodded and gazed off out the window, "It's a big hotel, The Shippington, and all the rooms were full. Regretfully, there wouldn't have been so many deaths if we had better resources; this hospital is ridiculously small for such a built up area."
I nodded without thinking, "I don't suppose..." I paused, not sure if I wanted to ask just in case the answer was too painful.
"What is it son?" The doctor moved towards me and asked kindly.
"Do you know anything about Bob Bryar?" I asked, breathing in nervously, "He was in the hotel and we don't know if he's okay or not."
He thought for a moment before raising his hand to his chin, rubbing his stubble, and fixing me with a look that made me want to vomit furiously before curling up in a corner and crying myself to death. "Son, he was badly injured." He broke eye contact and started pacing slightly, "but not in the fire, or at least that's what the police are saying." I looked at him confused.
"He was found in the stairwell of the floor that the fire began on, badly cut up. Obviously, by the time they found him, he was burnt also." He shook his head sadly, "A lot of people died in that stairwell; presumably, when Bob was discovered unconscious, a major panic ensued. There would have been people trying to help him, people trying to push past the people that were trying to help him and so, it must have been impossible to get away from the fire in time." He shrugged to show that he wasn't sure if these were the definite events, but I was listening intently anyway and picturing it all in my mind. "Although, more likely, it would have been the smoke that killed them; smoke is the most dangerous part of fire accidents."
"I do remember there being a block of some sort on the stairs." I mumbled, "and people were pushing each other around."
"Yes, it's terrible, but they have the culprit in police custody." The doctor smiled and clapped his hands while walking to the door, "You're free to go Mr. Way." He turned and left the room.
"Wait!" I stood from the bed as he walked out the door. I followed and had to run slightly to catch up with him. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, "Is Bob alive?" I asked worriedly.
"Oh, yes, sorry!" He smiled apologetically "It's been a long day."
I nodded in understanding; it had been a very long day.
"Yes, Bob Bryar is alive although I'm not sure where you'll find him; probably the burns section but I'd ask Maria, the receptionist." He smiled once again and squeezed my shoulder before turning and disappearing down a corridor and into another room.
On my way to the reception desk, I found myself walking past the cafeteria where I saw Brian, Ray and Frank all sitting around a table laughing at something I couldn't hear. Avoiding them for the second time that night, I hid behind a stand of balloons adorned with the usual messages, "Get Well Soon!" "Happy Birthday!" and "Congratulations It's A Girl!", and waited until they definitely weren't looking before I continued on my way to the burns ward of the hospital, where Maria had kindly told me I would find a recovering Bob.
I knew where Gerard would be; he also needed to be checked out by a doctor to make sure there was no damaged caused by the smoke he inhaled. And if he was done with being checked over then he'd be outside inhaling even more smoke, although this time through choice. And Sally, I had no clue where she would be.
I thought about going over to Ray, Brian and Frank and telling them where Bob was but we'd been in the hospital well over an hour and so, if they'd wanted to, then they could have found out for themselves. Or maybe they already had and had already been to see him. I didn't waste time finding out.
"You better not fucking wake up!" I was about to pull back the curtain surrounding the bed that they said Bob would be in when I heard Sally's' voice hissing those words which made me stop, dead still, in my tracks and listen disbelievingly.
"Trust me, I've gone too far to let you fuck this up for me now, so you be a good boy and just die like you were meant to!" I couldn't believe that she was saying all this; Sara was the sister that I would have expected venomous words like that from, not sally. Sally: the woman that had saved my life several time, convinced me to forget all my dark feelings and get on with everything. My therapist.
I wanted to run, run as far away as possible; run away from this conversation, run away from the band, run away from all the confusion of everything, run away from Mikey Way. Just run! I was screaming inside as my feet bolted themselves to the hospital floor and I held my breath so that I could continue listening to a conversation that I was dying inside to get away from.
"Mind you, this whole 'problem' has a plus side; its gotten rid of Sara. Who knew such a careless little incident could turn into the perfect opportunity?" she laughed coldly as I tried to process it all and work it all out, "She's going to prison for a very long time, stupid bitch!" I don't know whether it all didn't make sense because she wasn't talking in the most obvious statements or whether it was because I didn't want it to make sense. Either way, my mind was in turmoil and I'd started crying silent and furious tears without realising it, some time ago.
Her cold laugh reached my ears from through the curtain once again, "Listen to me!" she laughed again, "I'm practically talking to myself! Anyone would think I was the insane person in all of this. So I'm gonna stop now cos it's just weird." Her chair scraped back and immediately, my feet unbolted themselves and I started running as fast and as silently as I could away from the ward before she could tell that I heard her.
"Sleep well Bob." Her icy voice -a vois that I had never heard the sweet sally I knew use- travelled with me as I ran, chilling me to the bone.
I stopped running about three wards later and collapsed into one of the hard orange seats that were secured to the wall by nails -as if someone would steal them?- and started attempting to slow my heartbeat, breathing and the tears flowing down my face all at the same time. I had just about gained control of the three when the soft clicking of high heeled shoes on the squeaky hospital floor made me look up to see Sally walking towards me, her face solemn and tear-streaked. So Sara wasn't the only Hafferty to be able to fake tears...
She sat down beside me and I wasn't sure how to react, so I didn't; I just sat there holding my trouser in one hand, in my itchy gown and waited for her to say something.
"I can't believe she did this!" She sobbed and flung her arms around me, without thinking, I returned the movement and held her loosely while she shook with violent 'cries', "Sara was fucked up, but now she's a murderer!" she continued crying into me as I said nothing; I was too busy looking into the reflection of the scene cast over the glass of the opposite ward and the reflection of the glass behind us.
As clear as if in a picture I could see her face reflected although she clearly thought I couldn't; she was smirking sickeningly.
oooh! Evil Sally? DAMN-lol :)
I don't think I described what I meant in the last couple of paragraphs too well, what I meant was if you want to check, say, what the back of your head looks like, you would hold a mirror in front of a mirror? Well, that's what I'm talking about-lol :)
Thank you very much for the kind and helpful comments :)
Sign up to rate and review this story