4. Unwanted Tenant
1140 Words
JP's POV
That wasn't how I expected my Monday morning to go. I opened my eyes and blinked to accommodate the bright, almost-blinding hospital light around me.
But my utmost concern was why the strange woman called me Elle.
Was I so scarred and badly mangled she couldn't recognize me and mistook me for a girl?
After pronouncing that name, she abandoned me and went out the door, all the while screaming with joy, "My baby girl's awake! My baby is awake! Doctor. Doctor. Nurse!"
My baby girl?
For crying out loud, I'm not anyone's baby girl! I'm a freaking boy, I’m a man. Was she blind?
As she left and I breathed deeply feeling my lungs with utmost relief, I noticed another presence in the room that I hadn't noticed before now. It was the immaterial form of a girl.
Another stupid ghost? Was this one some other incompetent angel? Did they find me and want to drag me back to the afterlife hall or whatever the other angel called it?
But the immaterial girl seemed short tempered, she had a huge frown on her translucid face, her hands were on her hips as she stumbled her foot. She hovered close to me with narrowed eyes and a menacing and rabid look. This one appeared scarier than all the things I'd seen so far since I found myself in this situation.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my body?! How did you even get in here? Can someone explain to me what in the world is happening?" She yelled, still glaring daggers at me. She wasn’t breathing, but huffing instead. Can ghosts have PMS? If so, that must be the case!
I didn’t know a ghost could look that unsettled, that angry. She was almost scary, even though she was small and, I dare say, cute.
To my chagrin, the body I was seeing was almost identical to hers. I was not going to concede to such absurdity. Not now, not ever, this couldn't be happening.
"Yes! MY body!!! Look around you dummy" she yelled, rattled.
Maybe it was Hell or Limbo, her shouting could well be considered torture. What a high-pitched voice! Everything in her screams annoying! Deadly annoying!
I took off my blanket and raised my head a little. My chest partially obstructed my vision. Do I now have boobs? I look beyond my chest to my feet. Female feet. With blue-painted toenails.
Realization hit me like a blow; Even my arms shouldn't be this slender. Nothing looked familiar, not even the complexion! I touched my hair. It was long, wavy, red and flowing, even though somehow rumpled.
I wondered in utter perplexion.
I was a.... girl!!
"Whaaaa.... What happened to my body please?” I mumbled incoherently.
"I just asked a similar question dummy. How did you get into my body?!" She fired into my shocked face. "Get out right now!", She yelled, something she apparently couldn’t stop doing. This much stress would end up killing her.
She tried dragging my hand roughly, but something strange happened that took both of us aback: She couldn’t grab or touch the physical body but could touch my ghost form. She literally touched my freaking soul.
We looked at each other almost simultaneously, wide eyed.
"What are you? Where did you come from!?" She asked for the umpteenth time, her hands went up to the ghostly outline of her red hair and she pulled it slightly, going hysterical.
"What are you?" I asked back, trying to think of something, anything to get myself out of this mess.
"Get out of my body, you monster!" She screamed at me again.
"You think I want to be in here? This ugly body? How did I get suck in here in the first place? Huh?" I couldn't hold back my frustrations anymore. I sat up and faced her squarely, which caused light pain on my legs.
Admist out argument, we both didn't hear the crazy woman coming into the room alongside a middle-aged man wearing a wardcoat with a tag on the left breast pocket. I think the hysterical ghost sensed the woman’s (who I was now guessing must be her mother) presence, so she fell silent immediately.
The woman rushed towards me, checking my eyes, face and random parts of my body muttering repeatedly. "My baby are you okay? Does it anywhere hurt?" She continued checking and touching my body in a way that made me feel violated.
Out of the blues, the doctor standing behind her said,. "Excuse me ma'am, can I check her now? There are other patients waiting to be attended to." He said curtly, trying to hide the impatience from his voice.
"Yes, yes please" she was going hysterical like her daughter now. I think the doctor should check her too.
The doctor performed an auscultation and checked my pulse. "Normally," he said, lowering his stethoscope, facing my mother. "It is expected for her to take months for full recovery or in worst cases, die. I'm sorry but that was how it looked like when she was rushed in here. I don't know if I should say this but THIS, is nothing short of a miracle."
I and the hysterical girl glanced at each other, surprise written all over our faces. A miracle? Maybe a curse! Silverline, at least I am alive. "We'll monitor her for some days, do some MRIs, stabilize her. Make sure she gets proper rest. At this rate, she should be ready for discharge within a week, give or take, few days." He concluded.
"Thank you so much, doctor. This means a lot." The woman said grabbing the doctor's hands firmly, nodding appreciatingly.
"It's okay ma'am, I'm just doing my job. Please make sure you get some rest as well." He finished, before exiting the room.
She rushed to my side, sat down beside me and continued her disgusting clinginess. "Elle, you sure you're okay? You know you can tell mum anything right?” She cooed and squeezed my hands gently. “Are you feeling any pain? Are you confused my baby?... you must be so confused. You suffered an accident and had surgery; I was so afraid I would lose you." She was talking so fast that I doubt she could breathe in between words.
I still haven't grasped what was going on; Was my mind playing tricks on me or was this a long nightmare?
I was tired already.
It was unbearably suffocating.
Nightmares shouldn't last this long.
To whomever is in charge of sleep and dreams, can I wake up now? Can I at least file a complaint?
I'm nice, or at least a very okay person.
Why was I being punished this way?
- Writer
