Midnight Run

AVA'S POV

“Hold still now, nearly done.”

Cringing, I tightened my grip on the seat. The pungent smell of chemicals invaded my nose, making it even harder not to move. The doctor squinted at my eyebrow and I tried not to breathe in as he exhaled his middle-aged-man coffee breath over my face.

Finally, he sat back, a look of contentment clear in his features. He moved the small table by his side and allowed for the nurse to get in and spread a damp cotton pad over the wound. Her breath was much nicer.

“So back in two weeks and we’ll remove the stitches,” he explained lightly. “And you be careful now, huh?”

I rolled my eyes: it wasn’t a lack of care that had landed me in the situation, it was a stupid kid with a Frisbee and a bad aim. The doctor, humming away to himself, typed something into the computer, murmured, typed a little more, and before I knew it we were free to go. I smiled politely at the nurse; I dipped past the doctor.

The pain in my eyebrow wasn’t quite so bad by that point: it had subdued to a manageable sting. I followed behind my mum as she weaved through the halls, leading me past door after door and colleague after colleague. Well, ex-colleagues. I wondered how she felt being back – the more I considered it from her point of view, the more I felt guilty for managing to acquire such a stupid injury. A picture of the hospital bill came to mind.

We got in the car without exchanging a single glance, nevermind any words. The radio was soon filling the silence and I sat back, defeated, with my split eyebrow, to watch the world fly by to the sound of Shania Twain.

At home we found Dad at the dining table, head in his hands. Papers and receipts were sprawled across the table and there was a strong smell of smoke. He didn’t smoke often. Mum crossed the room, bee-lining for the mounting dishes at the sink – but he stopped her. He placed his hand on her forearm upon passing and held her there, just for a second. I watched discreetly as his thumb moved slowly across her skin before he proceeded to pull away. She then continued towards the sink.

The room was thick with tension. Feeling the guilt knot my stomach, I decided to retreat to my room and give them space. I was feeling tired after all the stress of getting the stitches, anyway – I was more than happy to sleep until I could make a facial expression again without grimacing.

I kicked off my boots and crawled into bed, wriggling under the sheets. Curling up, I turned to face the window and exhaled. The image of my Dad sitting there, drowning; it haunted me. I felt helpless and a nuisance, especially after the afternoon we’d just had. If I was thinking of the hospital bill, they surely would be too.

It was then that my snow globe caught my eye. It was still pushed aside from that night, the pink flakes inside firmly on the bottom. They hadn’t been shaken up in too long. But then wasn’t the time to go out, and I knew that – I had to be less of a liability, at least for one night.

My thoughts eventually moved on to less heavy matters. They moved on to Tony. I recalled our conversation from a few nights before and smiled a little as I remembered it all. The smile soon faultered, though. I was supposed to be meeting him tomorrow, but how could I now? I looked as though I’d been in a fight. I didn’t want Jem or Emma seeing me – he was a whole other matter.

I scrunched up my face in anger, which caused a searing pain in my eyebrow. “Oh fuck off,” I grumbled, rolling over.

I considered my options: I could make up an excuse, like work (not that I have a job) or a cousin’s birthday (not that any live in this state), or – and this was quite possibly the worst – I could tell him the truth.

Quickly I set about conjuring up the work lie, reciting the details in my mind until I had a small script going. I spent a few minutes doing this, practicing, swearing at the pain, and then hopped out of bed. I yanked my desk drawer out and rummaged around until I found my little notebook. I flipped through it until I found his number, which I’d scribbled messily below that of the local pizzaria’s.

I left my bedroom and crept through the house to the phone. I carried it into the cupboard, careful not to yank the cord right out, and dialled the number in before shutting the door and leaving myself in darkness.

Work just called you.

Someone’s off sick and they need you to fill in.

You’re the only employee left available.

It’s really important.

I held the phone to my ear and listened carefully. I gnawed at my lip, wiggling my hips anxiously from side to side as I waited impatiently. However, before it got the chance to connect, the line went dead. I touched the bottom of the phone to find that the cord had fallen out.

Well, fuck.

Notes

A short filler, but necessarily! Hope you guys are doing well x