Chickens and Mallows

Chickens and Mallows

Written by RB101

Chapter Four: Hospital Experiences

About ten minutes later, after hobbling on the sidewalk, we reach the hospital, a grey, towering block consisting of the typical blue and white NHS sign on the front way. The large door and front wall, adorned with large windows, glistened in the sunlight, as the early hours shine on the large and noisy city. We arrived at around half past six, still with my left foot wrapped in the now blood-stained bandage. Before our arrival, we made sure the fillies remained quiet, in which they obeyed. Easy them lot, so young, and so easy to talk into.

We checked in, gave our reason of visit, names, and ages, and we sat down onto the blue chairs in the waiting room, filled with either sick, broken, or pregnant people. The room is silent, save the blurting of the TeleVision in the corner of the room, the radio blurting in another corner of the room, the occasional coughs and winces of pain from other patients, but I sat there, earphones at ears, phone in hand, and Alex sat there, staring at the white wall, tapping on his legs, drowned in the typical grey trousers of his. I was wearing a new top, as I changed out of my workers uniform. I presented a black and white tracksuit with my preferred football team shirt from back in 2016. I'm still surprised it still fits, seeing as it's 4 years old. I guess it shows that I have really slimmed down through the years. I loved the shirt with all the tender and care I had, and I was wearing it today, not covered in blood this time, luckily.

“Mr. Andersen?” the doctor calls out my last name. I go to get up immediately, but the pain of my wounded foot prevents me from doing so, as I slowly get up, wincing in pain. The doctor walks over to me to give assistance. “So it's your foot that's concerning you?”

I weakly nod my head.

“Tell me what happened.” he consoles.

I take a deep breath in, and start. “I had arrived home from work and gotten to speak to my friend. There was this odd noise from the kitchen, like the sound of something falling off of the cabinet.”

“Was it a robbery?” the doctor interrupts.

“No it wasn't. What criminal would want to break into student accommodation?” I joke.

He chuckles slightly, “True, I guess. So what happened next?”

“Me and Alex,” I resume, “went to investigate what happened there, him with a knife in his hand, I guess for self defense. We opened the door expecting someone to be there, but there was nothing. He had ended up dropping the knife when he found out there was nothing. I didn't notice that I was stabbed until I looked down slightly, seeing the knife had landed, point first, slicing through my left foot.” Part of that was a lie, I think the reader can identify it.

“Accidentally stabbed by your friend. Well ain't he a good friend.” the doctor jokes.

I smirk a little from it, “I knew it was an accident. Anyways, it started bleeding when he took the knife out, and I may have lost quite a bit of blood from it.” I spoke the rest of the story as I unravel the blood-stained cloth. A small but deep cut, upon the top of the foot, near the second toe from the left, about 2 inches wide and most likely an inch deep. The doctor winces at my unveiling of it, and he gets up to grab some alcohol and cotton buds for it. Once he had retrieved the items he was after, he started dabbing the now alcohol-covered cotton bud onto the wound, and it was this that stung like hell. I sat tight, wincing in pain from the alcohol making contact with the cut. Once that was over, he got a bandage and started wrapping my foot with it, advising that I take 10 days off to rest the wound.

Great. Not only am I gonna have to take a long break from work, I have to look after two fillies in the process! Woe is me, dearie.

It's not that much of an issue to be honest, I have the help of Alex, and as long as he can live to see another day, we should be good for the time I am rested. The only thing is that I'm glad I'm not dead, so all is well in this unfortunate world we live in.

I get up and shake the doctor's hand in thanks, and limp out of the room. Alex is sitting there, still waiting for me in his typical posture. “How did it go?” he asks.

“Have to stay off of work for two weeks. Apart from that, I'm alive.” I respond in my typical way.

“Being alive is a good thing? Huh. I never knew that.”

I facepalm. Seriously, the stuff this guy says. I guess you get used to it over the years. If there was a phrase to describe how complicated my roommate is, it would have to be one he made up. I do have a book of quotes from the different things he has said over the last five years, so I can always use one of them to describe him. Let's see…

Yes, this one. “Feeling Spain. Feeling it from Alméria to Cordoba and Léon.” It works perfectly, considering I ‘bought Spain’ back in 2016 for fifteen pounds, a packet of salt and vinegar crisps, and a bottle of cherry coke. Seriously, the kind of things we came up with back in the day could be considered as not even sane for a bunch of fifteen year olds in North London.

He chuckles at my reaction. I soon follow, before we hear a whisper from the bag, obviously meaning the fillies are uncomfortable in there. “When can we get out!? It's so smelly in here. What has Alex put in this bag over the years?”

Upon hearing the girls chatter, I immediately grab Alex's hand and his bag and proceed to limp out of the hospital, slightly annoyed. I have no more use there, so why be there? We start making our way home at around seven hours into the fresh day, and into the somewhat fresh air. Now with a slightly healing foot, we get home faster than we got to the hospital, around fifteen minute walk. Not a word was shared between the four of us on our way back...