Noise filled my head. It was so loud and urgent that it made my mind ache and throb.
" Samael, Samael! Run!" It kept on chanting, it was the voice of a woman, strong and powerful and also full of worry.
Then, a painful scream filled the air, I yelped and boosted upwards, my eyelids fluttered open.
I began my new life staring at the unfamiliar, gargantuan walls that stretched so high that the top of this was unable to be seen. Heavy breathing, I looked around, a dozen people were covered with white diaphanous blankets lying soundlessly on mental gurneys. Serval nurses wearing white lab coats and gloves leaned over to a patient and whispered while they worked, plugging and unplugging electric connections to different medical instruments, strangely, the patient didn't move or wail a sound, just lying there as still as a stone statue.
I just sighed, confused about how I wound up in a hospital. Turning, I found myself facing an elderly man, who was staring at me with raised eyebrows.
The man spoke," You are new aren't you, young folk? What is your name?"
The thought hit me like a bullet in the head, my name. Then, I recalled the dream, the vivid picture attacked and seized my brain. An elegant looking woman with brownish curly hair was scrambling everywhere as if to find something, footsteps and shoutings followed behind, tears began to fill the woman's eyes as she handed a sharp knife that glowed gold to a boy beside her, hugged him and told him to run and never look back. I felt my hand fumble in my jeans pockets while I laid on the gurney, and felt the smooth shining hilt of the knife and my mouth hang open. It was then I realized that I was the boy in my dream, and Samael was my name. I felt a smile beginning to stretch across my face.
" Samael." I whispered, getting used to this strange word on his tongue.
"Huh? Whatcha say?" The old man scratched his bald head.
"It's Samael, um, sir. My name is Samael." I was more confident this time.
The old man nodded, his brows still knitted. " Hmm, Samael. Anyway, yer not a lucky folk to end up in this hospital. Been here a month already and still haven't got a clue. Can't even remember where I'm from, 'cept for my name, and Salda." His face twitched with pain, "My dear Salda."
" Sir." I began, but the old man cut him off.
" Grandpa Philips is fine."
I rubbed my palms, and inhaled a deep breath. "Right, Grandpa Philips, I was wondering about how you said that, uh, you can't really remember anything. How's that so?"
Grandpa Philips looked around, pointed at the nurses that hadn't heard their conversation yet and put a shaky long finger to his mouth. "Shhh, lad, control your yanny volume." He lowered his voice and muttered, " One month ago, I myself woke up in this 'say it's a hospital but not a hospital place'. Can't remember anything like I said before, just my name and a memory of my beautiful Salda…"
Grandpa Philips paused, I caught him wince and thought of my own dream that turned out to be not a dream after all.
"Salda." Grandpa Philips continued. "She is my granddaughter. My lovely granddaughter. I still yanny hear her voice every time I try to shut my eyes, she's crying lad. She's crying. Ay, boy, when I woke up from my sleep, I saw ya nurse, told me I got some brain problems. Treated me like an retarded old man, but I betcha"
He stopped, looked me right in the eye. This time I realized the wrinkles around on the side of his eye bags and his eyes, which were filled with dimness and remorse. Sighing, Grandpa Philips carried on." I betcha the nurses are lying. I ain't got a problem in my bones. Don't trust them, lad. I like you to be honest, but whatever they do or say, don't trust them."
I stared at him, Grandpa Philips words rang again and again in my head.
Don't trust the nurses.
Whatever they say, don't trust them.
" Grandpa Philips! You must know something important about this place. Where are we? What are the nurses doing to us?" I asked him.
Questions overwhelmed my head, so many askings, and not a single answer. My heart pounded loudly against my chest as I waited for Grandpa Philips' response. But his lips didn't move the slightest, his eyes turned emotionless and dull as he looked forward, while his lips pressed into a thin line. At the moment I felt it too, a spine-chilling silence.
But how can silence be so noisy?
I raised my head slowly in a cautious manner to where Grandpa Philips was gazing. My heartbeat quickened like a horse galloping in a racing contest. My sweaty palms shook uncontrollably beside my thigh, my fingers trembled.
The nurses had stopped working and focused their contemptuous and curious gaze on the two of us. It proved so noisy and unsettling. One of them was walking right towards us.
The nurse's footsteps echoed on the stone floor, and she didn't look happy at all.
"What were you two filthy rats talking 'bout? What did you tell the boy, old man?" Her voice blazed with warnings. If it was possible, her face looked more squished than a bulldog's just then. She squinted her eyes at Grandpa Philips, who pretended to not hear her, then turned her attention sharply on me. My muscles tensed, and her sneer turned into a fake smile, but I saw the daggers in her eyes.
A wider smile began to stretch across her chubby cheek. "Oh, my sweet boy, yer new, ain't I right? Now do me a favor, my boy. Forget everything that old man told ya, and now ya listen to us and only us." The nurse gestured her hand to where the remaining nurses stood.
I would have laughed if my stomach wasn't twisted, and tied in hundreds of knots.
The nurse crossed her arms and her face was a shade of dark red. "I ask and ya to answer, boy." Her voice was on the edge, but I stayed silent with words stuck in my throat.
"AM I UNDERSTOOD?" The nurse roared, spit flying out of the corner of her mouth.
One of the nurses nudged her and she grunted. "Now, that was a misbehavior of my manners. From now on, you shall call me Nurse Tatte, the Head Nurse of the VIP headquarters."
The VIP headquarters, I wondered. But if we were really very important people, what was I doing on a metal gurney? I shrugged the thought off since I knew there was no way Nurse Tatte was going to tell me anything about it.
She stared at me, wrinkled her nose and turned to whisper something to the other nurses, they nodded in union.
When she refocused her gaze on me again, she pointed her tubby finger at me and said, "Well, ya dirty little boy, Nurse Hanna will take care of ya for now. And ya, old man."
The nurse paused, snickered and continued in a cheerfully mocking way. "Helpful old man, ya and I are going on a wonderful journey! Such pleasure you have!"
I heard Grandpa Philips grumble with hatred and disgust. "I swear that I won't do anything for ya and ya ignorant, disdainful community! Ya took me away from my family, my granddaughter, ya will regret this, y'all will!"
He took a deep breath and continued, tumbling over his words, "I know I got no yanny broken brain, ya are all lying, I am aware of that, and I will figure out the truth sooner or later! I betcha."
Before Grandpa Philips could say anymore, Nurse Tatte clapped her hands twice and two of the nurses scurried to roll his gurney away.
"Don't listen to those ruthless women, lad. Don't listen to them!" His voice lingered in the solemn and hushed air as he was pushed into one of the private chambers. Grandpa Philips' shadow completely disappeared when the nurses shut the door tight behind them.
I suspected that he was talking to me. However, I was too shocked to defend him. The knife felt heavy in my pocket and I cursed myself for not doing anything to save Philips. My heart sank deep into my body as I realized how useless I had been.
I lifted my gaze to the level of Nurse Tatte's, trying to put in as much force as I could into the glare. "What are you going to do to Grandpa Philips?" I asked, attempting to make my voice sound calm.
Nurse Tatte's expression hardened, she narrowed her eyes at me, and clapped her hands again. One of the other nurses stepped forward and they exchanged a conversation for a while, speaking too low for me to hear. I was frustrated, heat raising and flowing into my head. A minute or two passed until Nurse Tatte patted the woman's shoulder and signaled the remaining nurses to get back to work, and left without another word.
"Hola. Hello Samael, my name is Nurse Hanna." The new nurse said, and did a little wave. She looked younger than Nurse Tatte, her shoulder length brunette hair was wavy, her beige skin colored face glowed under the lights along with her sincere smile. I almost wanted to trust her.
My eyebrows shoot upwards. "How did you know my name?"
I could tell she noticed how surprised I was and she laughed pointing at the name tag on the side of my metal gurney.
My mouth hung open wider. I took the name tag in my hands, on it it said, " Name: Samael Scollan. Age: 16. Gender: Male." That was it, I sighed, hoping that it would reveal more than just who I was.
"And why am I in a hospital exactly?" I asked even though I knew what her response would be.
"Well, you have an inner problem with, uh, su sistema linfatico."Nurse Hanna explained, though I was sure I saw her grimace.
" My what?"
"Oh, sorry. 'Su sistema linfatico' is actually the Spanish word for your lymphatic system." Nurse Hanna elucidated with an apologetic smile.
Pondering, I queried, "Alright, so I suppose you're a Spaniard then?"
Nurse Hanna nodded, "Si, I don't actually live here."
"Which country are we in then?" I realized that Grandpa Philips and Nurse Tatte didn't quite speak Spanish either.
The nurse turned her attention away from me and quickly said, "Let's get you to your tests now."
She rolled the rusty wheelchair right beside my gurney and raised one of her eyebrows. I maneuvered my way out of the gurney and let my body sink into the flimsy bottom seat. It creaked so hard I thought it was going to collapse into a million pieces. The wheels squealed as Nurse Hanna gently pushed me toward the door. My eyes lingered on the rest of the patients so peaceful as they slept, I wondered why they were all there too. The smell of bleach and wax hit me before I even entered the oddly silent hallway. As Nurse Hanna navigated into the dim corridor, I began to take notice of the occasional windows covered over with papers, and abandoned mental chairs lined along the walls.
Nurse Hanna pointed to a green door.
"Entonces, this is the washroom, and the one over there," she pointed across the hall to a red door, "is the showers."
Moving down the corridor things started to get less straightforward. The silence seemed to shift, as if from that nothingness to a low hum. I swear I even heard a muffled scream. Nurse Hanna plodded along, relinquishing the details of room after room and I admit I ignored it all—until we reached the blue door.
From inside, a rattle trickled out, machines or something, I wasn't quite sure. Voices too. I couldn't understand them, but the low whispers made the hair on my arms shoot up. "What's this room?"
The chair jerked just the slightest bit and Nurse Hanna's voice changed as we sped up. "That's the doctor's lounge. Stay clear."
She rushed me into a tiny room in which there was nothing more than a chair and a set up to take my blood. As the door shut, my eyes shot across the hall into another room that looked like a mirror of the one I was in. A girl! There was a girl in it, the blood draining from her arm into a test tube. She looked right at me and glared.