ME & THE MONSTER

beware

The next twenty-four hours went by in a blur.

Sean and I had been rushed to the hospital the moment the ambulance had arrived. He'd fallen into a kind of stupor, while I'd been a bundle of nerves all the way to the hospital, my mind whirling round and round with all the what-ifs, my speciality.

What if help hadn't come promptly and we hadn't managed to escape from the building? What if I hadn't decided to bunk off training that evening?

And what if Sean didn't make a complete recovery? Judging from the look of him, and I was no doctor, it wasn't as far-fetched as I would've hoped. His face had gone deathly white, and as he lay there unmoving on the stretcher, I noticed the sparse, shallow breaths lifting his chest.

I'd studied carbon monoxide poisoning at the station: it was a serious affair, even quite possibly lethal. I didn't dare go further that line of thought.

On the bright side, I was completely alright. While this didn't come as a surprise, it was a relief nonetheless. I'd been double and triple-checked at the hospital and, to the doctors' puzzlement, there was nothing whatsoever wrong with me, not so much as a slight burn on the skin. They put this down to my having stayed so little inside the building, to which I hastily agreed.

"Um, would you be so kind as to tell me Mr Otts' ward number?" I asked the burly nurse behind a desk. "Sean Otts. He was hospitalised yesterday along with me, and I'd like to visit him."

The nurse glared at me.

"Are you close family of his?"

"Well, not really, but –"

"Then I fear that's out of the question. The patient is in critical condition and in no state to see anybody. Good evening."

"Yes, but –"

I shut up at the look on her face.

There was only one thing to do left.

I had to see Kal.

*

It was nearly midnight by the time I got to Kal's front door, my heart beating fast. It had been three weeks since I'd dashed away from here, a confused, sobbing mess. Three weeks of no contact, of no messages or phone calls at all, just as I'd wanted.

Well, or thought I wanted. Yesterday's events had shocked me into realising one thing: I could die at any moment. What if I'd died in the fire? I wouldn't have seen Kal ever again, and maybe he would have mourned for some time, maybe not, and then he would have gone on with his life, without ever realising how much he'd meant to me.

I didn't want that. I didn't want to regret not being brave or honest enough. Perhaps I'd hurt him and talking to me was the last thing on his mind, and very possibly nothing would come out of this.

But I had to try, at least.

I looked down at my Converse, mustering courage. I noticed that the rug under my feet had been changed; its left corner had been arranged to resemble something half chewed off, and it bore the caption: BEWARE, DANGEROUS DOG INSIDE.

I stifled a laugh. That had Kal written all over it. Then I pressed my finger to the doorbell and rang.