Sit Tight... Little Dee

Dian's POV

I'm sitting tight in the back of the blaring cop car when the engine stops, the door opens, and a hand is stretched towards me. I place my clammy hands into the officer's sure one and I'm pulled out of the car. I puked twice during the ride here and I've never had a gag reflex incident but ever since I saw the blue uniforms it feels like my insides are all mangled .

I stare at the red cross on the revolving doors of the hospital entrance and an unexpected shiver racks my exposed body. Goosebumps line my bare arms and a coat is tucked over my withering frame.

My feet get heavy as we near the main entrance and I look up at the bald cop, “C– can we st– st– stop for a minute… my legs are a little weak.”

I sit on the pavement leading to the entrance, beside me there's a well-groomed row of blooming pansies and I get lost in its sweet scent.

How can a place so tragic smell so sweet, so sickly sweet it hurts... Everywhere.

I'm still lost in my thoughts when the other officer hands me a water bottle and I take a sip, wetting my dry throat.

“Perhaps… you should wait for your aunt,” He offers but I wipe my wet cheeks and scramble up on jelly knee.

“I just needed a little air.”

I squeeze the water bottle with trembling hands as we enter the building, passing the hectic atmosphere at the reception area as nurses run around in bloody scrubs, trying to do their jobs whilst calming anxious loved ones. We reach the elevator, punch a button, the lift lurches and begins its descent and my mind starts rambling.

Why is it called a lift when it takes people down?

Why is the morgue in the hospital basement?

Shouldn't it be on the top floor so the souls can easily find their way to heaven?

“I'm sorry you have to do this,” The cop I puked on says again pulling me from my thoughts.

“There are multiple casualties tonight. We need to identify the bodies quickly to make space for the other victims.

I let his words hang, slowly digesting the news, then it hits me. Justin

What if he had an accident? What if he's injured somewhere? What if he's… dead.

I try to call him but it goes to his voicemail along with the thirty-one missed calls from earlier, “You have to check on my—boyfriend,” I wince at the lie.

“We were supposed to meet up at the study cafe but I haven't heard from him.

Worry spears my tone as I push my vomit-coated phone into his face, “I've been trying to reach him for the over five hours.”

He brings out a pen and pocket note and juts down his number, “What's his name?”

“Justin Sullivan Kingston, he lives at… ” I blurt out his address with startling accuracy.

“It'll be okay kid. He's probably at home.” He tries to ease my fear.

The lift groans as it opens slowly, my guts convulse and I suddenly wish Aunt Sherry was here with me. The hallway is dimly lit and is cold as a graveyard as we walk through. I shiver against the cold air which seems to be seeping in from the Ward at the end of the hallway. It's like a scene from an eighties horror film and I shudder in revulsion.

The door to the ward opens and a frowning middle-aged female comes out to meet us.

“She's here to identify a corpse?” she asks briskly

The cops shift uncomfortably, “Yes, the couple that was brought in two hours ago.”

I glance at my watch, 1:26 a.m

“But she's too young…” I hear the woman arguing in hush tones with the cops.

“She's the only next of Kin we could bring in on short notice.” The bald cop explains, scratching his beard in frustration.

“What about other relatives?”

“We've contacted the deceased male's sister but her flight got delayed, she'll be here in the morning.”

“It's like the apocalypse with the increasing death tolls tonight.” The woman says, fatigue seeping into her voice.

“You think she can handle it?” The bald officer asks and I feel three pairs of eyes burning a hole in my back.

“No one can handle that kind of pain.” Her eyes catch mine and I suddenly want to leap into her arms and bawl my eyes out.

“My name's Grace. What about you, honey?”

“D-D- Dian.”

She smiles at me with soft eyes, “You're so very brave Dian, to do this all on your own. You are one brave girl.”

Tears slide down my cheek as I bite my lip to keep from screaming bloody murder and running out of the place.

As though sensing my need to bolt, she quickly leads me into the room and towards two gurneys, “I'm very sorry for your loss.”

They're both covered with white cloths but their heads to the chest are left open and it's like some corny movie scene. It feels surreal to see Mom and Dad with no expression on their faces. Dad without his thumbs-up smile, and Mom without her signature smirk that so much resembles a grimace, Dad and I called it her resting bitch face.

My parents look so peaceful on their deathbeds meanwhile I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown. I choke on a sob.

Daddy wake up! Wake up Mom! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please wake up! Just wake up! I'm here now, I'm back!

“Cause of death was due to internal hemorrhaging, time of death was 11:11 pm December 2015.” Grace reads from a file but her words don't make it to my ears because the noise is back. It's in my head and it's twice as intense, it whirrs louder and louder until my nose bleeds from the pressure.

wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup!

I vaguely hear a scream. It smashes through the buzz and I realize I'm the one screaming but I don't stop screaming. I can't stop. I feel like I'm going insane. My glasses end up in a corner somewhere as I trash around, destroying everything in my path. I feel strong arms coop me from behind, something sharp pierces my neck then everything is blessedly quiet

                                                           .....

I wake up to the sounds of machines beeping, a strong antiseptic smell holds my nose hostage, watering my eyes, and a silhouette looming over me.

I crack my eyes open to see a woman with my father's eyes hovering over me with a worried expression on her face, “Oh baby, you're awake.” she mutters, stroking my hair softly.

“Go get the doctor, Will.” She says to someone because the door opens and then shut.

“I'm so sorry I couldn't be there with you,” she whispers, and a tear slides to my pillow.

She leans down and presses a kiss to my head and I can feel her tears dripping into my hair, “From now on, I'll be here little Dee. I'll always be here.

I turn away and the teardrops become a river flow as I hold tight to my Father's text.

Just Sit tight, Little Dee.

                                              Newspaper Headlines

"Teen Stalker's Twisted Obsession Leads to Tragedy: Orphaned After Running Away to Pursue Crush!"