Ramblings of an Anonymous Coward

Molly lays there still in her hospital bed. The florescent lights glowing above, unable to add any hope to the inhabitants of this room. A heart rate monitor's continuous beeps echo throughout thickening the air almost to the point of being suffocating. She lays there still, her chest rising and falling, trying to stay in a rhythm with her heartbeats. A large man, her father, stands next to the bed, towering over all the carefully placed monitors as if standing guard, protecting the daughter he cherishes. He looks uneasy knowing there is little he can actually do other than be there. Huddled next to him with her face pressed against his chest is mother. Eyes red from crying, arms firmly wrapped around her husband, squeezing tightly during each deviation in the tones that continue to echo through the room.

A man walks in the room, well dressed and bearing flowers. I can't make out his face or hear what he says, but he exchanges a few words with the parents, gives a reluctant wave, places the flowers on a table and leaves the room. How strange, I thought.

Another steps into the room, again it is not a hospital worker, as there is a bag slung over their left shoulder. He timidly walks towards the bed and begins to reach out his hand. "No!", the mother shouts through her tears, "Do not touch her! You've done enough. You caused this". Then she began to mumble and buried her head into her husbands chest again holding even more tightly than before. His head lowered to the ground along with his outstretched arm as an extra beat from the monitor sounded from the corner. "You should leave now. You are not welcome here.", the father explained. The visitor turned and exited the room.

Oddly, I'm now floating over a nurses station and see whom I believe is the same fellow walking down the hallway towards the desk. It all seems so blurry, but I'm sure of it. He approaches the desk and places his bag on top. The nurse asks if she can be of any help. He nods affirmatively and pulls a packet from his bag and places it on the counter. She reaches for it but he quickly snaps his hand on top of it and works out the words "not yet". She pulls her hand back and waits. He grabs a white envelope from his bag and places it on top of the other one, leaving he hand on it for a moment as he takes a deep breath. "Everything should be in order. I'll be over there", he said while pointing towards the mens restroom, "please hurry". He removed his hands from the paper, snatched his bag from the counter, and walked away.

The restroom door creaked as it pulled to and made a noticable thud as it finally closed. While certainly impossible to hear from my vantage point, I could hear the rattling of the latch and the slamming of the the stall door. About that time it is as if I had leapt into the nurses body, and I stood there reading the note from the white envelope.

To whom it may concern:

Should have you have any questions about the documents in the envelope marked "For Molly", please contact my attorney, Mr. Alan Shore. His information is enclosed in the packet for your convenience.

Before I could read the rest, I heard the nurse begin to yell, but it was interupted by a click. And it was over. I was no longer hovering anywhere, just floating in total darkness. Muffled voices echoed momentarily and eventually faded to silence.