Morning dew clung to the grass as the sun brought the warmth of a new day, waking up the world around her. Etta stood at the edge of a clearing near her home, the weight of the bow in her hands grounding her. She had spent hours here practicing, in this quiet place where the only sound was the rhythmic pull of the string and the soft snap of arrows piercing the target.
Her fingers were steady as she nocked another arrow, the wood smooth against her skin. Her breath came slow and controlled, chest rising and falling in time with the gentle wind that tugged at her hair. The bow, an extension of herself, hummed with quiet power, as if it had a pulse all its own.
Etta narrowed her eyes, squinting against the sharp beam of sunlight that broke through the trees. The target just barely visible beyond the field, but not unreachable. She exhaled and pulled the string back, her lean muscles taut, the strain familiar yet exhilarating. Then, in a single fluid motion, she released the arrow. It sliced through the air with a sharp whoosh. The sound of it more a part of her than the world around her.
She sighed in satisfaction as the arrowhead piercing the bullseye. To be just thirteen, here with the bow in her hands, Etta was something else. She was more than just a girl. She was power, focus, and certainty, all wrapped in the stillness of the day. And for that one brief moment, she didn't need to prove anything to anyone. Not even herself.
The delightful jingle of her phone pulled her back to reality. Pulling the small device from her phone, she silenced the alarm meant for her. It was Sunday, which meant community service with her mom at work. Picking up her arrows and grabbing her backpack, Etta walked to her bicycle, ready to get to work. Wind in her hair, the smell of fresh grass being cut, despite the ongoing pandemic people still managed to go about their day as usual. She gripped her handles and pedaled faster, the wheels on her bike hummed as she raced against her shadow casted by the sun above.
Susan was already at the hospital waiting for her, the choice of community service was her idea anyway. That and Etta's mother strongly insisted they needed the volunteers, not a lot of people wanting to help out with an unknown virus lurking. Etta's stomach twisted at the thought. She hated hospitals—the sterile smell, the beeping machines, the hushed voices of doctors and nurses. Even the dull white halls disturbed her, she saw it as a hunting ground for death. Nothing more.
Seeing her best friend standing at the counter made her smile. She stuck out like a sore thumb wearing her pink jeans with Brittney Spears on her tee shirt. Definitely the bubbly one out of the two of them. Their job was simple, maintain resources and upkeeping the small miscellaneous items around the sector. Etta and Susan walked side by side through the hospital's brightly lit halls, their sneakers squeaking softly against the polished floor.
Each held a clipboard, their eyes scanning the checklist as they moved from one room to the next. The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of cheap coffee from the nearby nurse's station.
"Okay," Susan said, tapping her pen against the clipboard. "We've got fresh blankets, extra water pitchers, and those little lotion bottles for the patient comfort kits."
Etta nodded, glancing down at her own list. "Did we restock the magazines in the waiting areas?"
"Yep, did that earlier," Susan replied, flashing a quick grin. "And I made sure the kids' section has new coloring books."
Etta smiled. Despite the hospital being one of her least favorite places to be... It felt good to help, to make things just a little easier for the patients and their families. The hospital could be a scary place, but small comforts, warm blankets, a good book, a kind word could make all the difference.
When lunch time came, they grabbed a few things from the eating area and rested near the nurses counter of their designated area. The area had become vacant and quiet, leaving just the two girls alone in each other's company. Etta stabbed her fork into her fruit cup, absentmindedly swirling the pieces of pineapple around as she listened to Susan talk about the pop quiz in history class. "So, I totally blanked on the last question," Susan said between bites of her sandwich. "Like, who even remembers the exact date of the Treaty of—"
A strange sound cut through their conversation. A low, wet gargling, like someone struggling to breathe. Etta froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Did you hear that?"
Susan's eyes widened. "Yeah. Where did that—"
Another gargling noise, louder this time. It was coming from the hallway. The two exchanged glances before leaning back in their chairs to peek down the hall...no one was there. Without a second thought, the two girls jumped up, their half-eaten lunches forgotten. They followed the sound, their sneakers squeaking against the tile floor.
It led them to a patient's room. Pushing against the door the slipped quietly inside room. The fluorescent light, behind the bed flickered weakly. Etta pushed the door open further, her breath catching in her throat. A man lay in the hospital bed, his body unnaturally stiff, his eyes rolled back. His chest rose and fell in erratic, shallow breaths. His lips were tinged blue. And the sound—the horrible, wet gargling—came from deep within his throat.
Susan clutched Etta's arm. "Something's really wrong."
Etta swallowed hard, her mind racing. "We need to get help. Now."
But just as she turned to run, the man's body twitched violently. His hand shot out, grasping at the air—grasping for them. His eyes suddenly popped open, revealing a foggy white hue to them. His hand latched onto Susan and pulled at her, causing her to scream.
"Sir!" Etta shouted, still trying to stay professional, "You need to let her go, okay? We are getting you help, please let go!"
The gargling turned into more of a growl now, as his actions became more rapid, he tried to bite Susan.
"What's wrong with him?!" She cried out.
Thinking quickly, Etta rushed to the other side of the bed and pressed the nurse's button. To add to the urgency, she messed with the buttons on his monitor, causing alarms to go off. Within a matter of minutes two nurses, including her mother, rushed into the room. Without question they took action and restrained the man.
Etta watched as her mother did what she did best, reaching for a needle from the nearest drawer and attached it to the I.V. The second nurse was able to pull Susan free of his grasp, Etta didn't think—she just grabbed Susan's wrist and pulled her down the hall, her heart pounding.
Behind them, the awful gargling sound faded, but the image of the man's outstretched hand was burned into Etta's mind. She yanked open the bathroom door and hurried inside with Susan, letting it slam shut behind them. The tile walls reflected the harsh light, making everything feel too bright, too real.
Susan braced herself against the sink, her face pale. "What... what was that?" she gasped, her breath shaky. Etta pressed her hands against the cool porcelain of the other sink, trying to steady herself. "I don't know. He didn't look—he didn't look okay."
"No," Susan turned to her, eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief. "That wasn't just some sick patient. He—he moved like—" She broke off, shuddering. "Like something was really wrong. Like he was an animal."
Etta swallowed hard. She wanted to say it was nothing, that they'd just walked in on someone having a seizure or a bad reaction to medication. But deep down, she knew. The way the man's fingers had clawed at the air, the unnatural way his body had jerked—it wasn't normal. "Do you think he had rabies or something?" Susan asked as she washed her forearm. The long scratches turned red with irritation. "Here" Etta handed her friend a few alcohol preps, "Use these, it will kill the germs."
Her stomach twisted in knots. Etta wanted to say something, would the nurses even listen to two teenage volunteers? Would they just brush it off as overactive imaginations? Surely her mother wouldn't. After all, she's reminded her almost daily to beware of the side effects this new virus could cause. If only people knew more about how to handle it.
"We should tell my mom about your arm."
"No," Susan wiped her face of her tears. "I'm fine."
"But Susie -"
"I'm fine really. Look!" She held up her arm now lathered, clean and smothered in antibiotics. "No infection here, it's just a little scratch. Barely broke the skin, it will be gone soon enough."
Etta sighed but eventually accepted her friends' words. Susan was fine, they man was probably choking on his own saliva or something. He was probably just as scared as they were, it was just a freak accident. He didn't mean to hurt her friend.
...Everything was going to be fine.
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This is the first story I've writing in like...3 years. Since my accident I have struggled to focus and organize my ideas. But I'm hopping back in the saddle So, I hope you enjoy reading!
