Flipped

1.21

I crouched. Running man kept running. Sandy blinked, hesitated, and did nothing.

I was okay. My confidence was growing. The truth: if people can't see it, and there are others around, they ignore.

No one wants to be crazy.

That didn't solve the problem of the door, though: Sandy let the man in. I stood up and started walking around to the other side, in the corner of the room. I was two paces from her, holding my breath. She started walking in. I held the door with my foot, and then slipped in behind her.

The door opened to three desks, organized opposite each other. Sandy sat down at one desk, the other guy at another. The only other thing in the room was a small bar fridge in the corner.

It was a very small room. I needed to go somewhere quickly. Certainly, I couldn't stay by the door that could swing out. I could hear myself breathing as I inched behind Sandy and crept to the corner opposite the bar fridge. Which left me three steps away from Sandy as I leaned against the wall.

Since we'd all entered, neither of the two of them had talked at all. They seemed very busy entering information from the folders beside them into their computers. Maybe I'd been lucky enough to happen upon where the record switching was taking place?

Great. Lucky me. I couldn't leave until they did, and even then, not really unless both of them left at the same time. The quietness of the room really freaked me out too. If these two workaholics could only just carry a conversation I'd be able to breathe easier.

I was already starting to get dizzy because I didn't want to breathe. Hearing something was one thing, but I imagined that if the nurse felt me breathing down her neck, all bets would be off.

I stood there for a few minutes as they typed away silently. There was nothing for it. I couldn't just stand here for half an hour – eventually I'd make enough noise that they'd know something was off, and then who knew how I'd get out.

Also, I reminded myself, I had no idea how long I'd be invisible. When did it go away? When I was too scared? Or when I was done with it? No idea. So I had to move.

I looked around.

Wait, what if I sat across from them? The desk across was pretty far from the door, so I could easily stand if they stood up. Hesitation would make things harder, I knew, so I started pushing myself in the direction of the corner.

Their intense focus was a blessing, I guess, because no one ever flinched despite the slight sound that I knew my shoes were making on the linoleum.

I slipped to the other side and slid into the chair. Both of them were now directly across from me, with computers and paper forums. For the first time, I had the space to focus on what they were doing. It was some form of data entry. I sat straight and tried to make out the forums.

At the top of each one, under the logo for the hospital, was a line for a name. Then, underneath was a line for the type of incident. I squinted.

"Trauma - Arm Injury." I could see the date as well. Two days ago. With my desk in the centre, I could see both sets of forums.

"Trauma - Injury - Shoulder."

Also two days ago.

Having entered the forum, Sandy sighed and moved on to the next one.

"Trauma Injury - Arm."

I didn't even have to look. Two days ago.

Both of them had a significant stack of papers on their desks. at least thirty or fourty in total.

And as I saw them entered forum after forum into the computer I realized, thought a deep feeling in my gut, that something was very, very wrong.

Sandy turned to the man beside her. "She'd better be going to prison. That's all I have to say."

The man grunted. "If I trashed the server room after deleting the off-site, I'd check myself in to save the trouble, honestly."

And then they went right back to working.

Mike was always telling me that movie moments - those perfect coincidences where all the pieces just fall into place - never happen in real life. And I'd always agreed with him.

But not any more. Because a bunch of things had just fallen into place. I had no proof. But four days ago I had been in a field fighting ghosts.

And now I had a sinking feeling that those ghosts, somehow, were causing havoc.