Tweetie

43

"Robin."

"Hm..."

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I don't know... Four?"

"That was a lucky guess."

"No it wasn't," she shook her head. "My vision is fine-"

"-You still haven't opened your eyes."

Hazel opened her eyes.

"That was a really good guess, huh?"

"Sure was."

"Why am I here?"

She glanced around, her head heavy and her eyes slightly blurred as she pushed herself up ever so slightly.

There was an awful smell of cleanliness, it was too clean, like somebody had spent two whole weeks scrubbing the floors in an attempt to remove every single germ. There were beeps, chatter, sobs, too much noise and everything just looked far too bright. The colours were too soft, too pastel, it was like they were trying to wash away any fear by avoiding harsh colours. But the overwhelming soft colours had the opposite effect on the girl who laid under thin blue sheets.

"...Hospital..." She mumbled, gathering her thoughts as she glanced through squinted eyes. "...My chest hurts... And my head? I can't feel my hands... My arms feel like rubber."

"That answers my next few questions then," the doctor said, reminding Hazel of her presence as she moved around, fiddling with wires and other random pieces, "We'll keep you in overnight so I can keep an eye on your vitals, try not to stress yourself out."

"Uhuh..." Hazel hummed, nodding along. Yet, she kept her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It seemed the doctor decided to just skip over some important information.

"Do you know how dangerous it is to be as careless as you were?" she asked, her voice void of emotion as she finally turned, glancing over the girl with her blue aged eyes that definitely needed more rest. That was rich though, coming from Hazel. "We've put you on medication and we're keeping an eye on your vitals. But we found that you were also malnourished and exhausted. You haven't been taking care of your body."

"Y'know, it could be worse," Hazel shrugged, sinking down, "last time I was here, I literally died."

"And yet, here you are again." The doctor shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "Most would see those experiences and try to improve their lives to stop themselves from finding more harm... Clearly, you're not like most, are you?"

"Of course not," Hazel shook her head, "I'm a busy girl you know, I have no time for that."

"Please, take care of yourself..." She sighed, "I'll be back in a few hours to check your vitals. Remember, don't stress. Eat the food the nurses bring and for your own good, get some rest. Let somebody know if your breathing gets worse. And please, don't touch the stitches."

"Alright, I will, since you're so nice." Hazel beamed, obviously still dazed and the doctor seemed to accept this, realising she would do as she was told and quickly, still very busy, the doctor turned and left the room once more. Pausing outside of the door to speak to somebody Hazel couldn't see.

Soon enough, footsteps approached her bed. Hazel didn't turn, she instead stared up at the ceiling, her eyes void of anything but frustration in herself for getting herself there in the first place. She didn't regret going to the hotel, she found good evidence. But, now her day would be wasted in a hospital.

More wasted time.

"Hazel..." Roderick sighed, dropping into the seat beside her bed. "What's going on?"