THE ABANDONED HOSPITAL
The Spark
20
We were walking through the woods slowly, appreciating the beauty around us. The trees were a shade of vibrant, verdure green and dripped huge droplets of water from their leaves from the recent rain. Above us, the sky was still cloudy and grey, but the air was warm and humid; almost suffocating. Birds chirped, hidden in the trees. I could hear frogs joining in, and the wind rustled a few birds out of their roosts. We walked in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. I could hear a little stream not too far away, and as we got closer, I saw it trickling into view over rocks and small plants, even larger than it was usually because of the recent downpour.
I saw the abandoned hospital looming up ahead and pulled Mary towards it, grabbing her hand and running across the clearing, looking back to smile hugely at her. I dragged her to the broken down entrance and surveyed the place before stepping in through the decomposing door. I had been here many, many times, but Mary hadn’t. I wanted this to be a good experience, not a frightening one. So I told her to wait there whilst I looked around, making sure she wouldn’t be in any danger.
I leaned out the door and beckoned her in. Mary clumsily crawled through the opening in the wet, rotting door and stood in the hall next to me, turning on her flashlight as soon as she realized how dark it was. It was a strong light, and as Mary shone it around the hall it illuminated the peeling pale blue wallpaper and long corridor to our left. We were in what had probably been a waiting room, and there were mostly decayed wooden chairs set up haphazardly around the room. A desk stood empty in the center of the room in front of the wall.
I grabbed Mary’s hand and lead her to the hall on our left. She halted right before entering.
“We’re not really going down there, are we?” she whispered, as if afraid to disturb the ethereal silence that had fallen upon the hospital.
I nodded. Of course we were. We weren’t just going to sit around in an empty waiting room and leave! How silly.
“Oh.”
I shook my head at her unnecessary fear. It wasn’t scary. I practically lived here. Come on, I motioned. I walked down the hall and she didn’t move for a few moments before running up to me, furiously trying to shine the flashlight everywhere. It lit up the corridor’s peeling white walls, the eerie white doors to patient’s rooms, the weird burgundy stains in some places, and the bugs crawling around. She shuddered.
“Is that…blood?” she gasped.
I nodded. Of course it was. We were in a hospital!
“Why is it on the walls?” she moaned.
I shrugged.
“I’m starting to think this wasn’t really such a good idea,” Mary blanched.
I looked at her sympathetically and held out my hand, which she gladly took. We continued walking down the hall, and she shivered. Oh, cold. She must be cold. I didn’t have a jacket I could give to her, as I was never cold, so I gave her an apologetic look instead.
“Can we leave soon?”
I held up a finger, telling her to hold on. She huffed.
“This is literally exactly like a scene from a horror movie. I don’t know how I let you convince me to come here,” she grumbled. “Somebody’s going to jump out of the shadows with a chainsaw or something.”
I rolled my eyes.
“No, seriously. Have you ever seen a horror movie?”
I thought for a moment, and then shook my head, indicating no.
“How do you even live?” she smiled. Then, realizing the joke that she had made, she laughed. I laughed along with her.
By now, we had reached the end of the hallway where it forked. I went left and Mary followed me. We were no longer in the patient’s quarters. These were the operating rooms and the doctor’s offices. A door was open, and I walked through into the room. Mary cautiously shined her flashlight into the room before entering herself. She looked hesitant, and if I were scared of this place anymore, I probably would have been, too: this had been an operating room when it was back in use. It took no skill to tell. There were rusty, blood-covered scalpels and instruments on trays, and the doctors hadn’t exactly cleaned up very well.
“Oh, my gosh. What are we doing in here?” Mary gasped. “Why on earth were we even here in the first place?”
I knew what I was looking for, and I ignored Mary as I opened drawers and ruffled through folders. I shook my head in frustration. It wasn’t here. I heard Mary’s breathing become increasingly fast and erratic, so I turned around and lead her out of the room, patting her reassuringly on the back.