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The day was warm despite the gray-blanketed sky and soggy drizzle. Carriages rattled past on the cobbled streets, the horses’ naying in protest to their driver’s orders. Under the large green oning of the St. Bella flower shop, fifteen-year-old Skyla Arden stood, her arms wrapped around a potted orchid. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, causing the flower to bob up and down. The hem of the girl’s green dress was damp from the puddles she had run through, and her stockings were all but ruined. She watched the street for a long time, tucking her brunette hair behind an ear. A carriage slowed in front of the shop and its driver peered at her curiously.
“Missy, ain’t you gettin’ wet?” he asked in a raspy voice.
“A little…” she said sheepishly.
“Well, do ya need a ride? ‘Cause I’m thinking you’ve got no other means of transportation, and it just so happens, Old Slick-Back here and I are a mode of transportations.” With his thumb, he tilted his worn silk top hat up his head, revealing bright red, curly hair. Skyla looked on the side of his carriage and saw the green letters that read ‘Taxi.’ Running out from under the safety of the onning and into the mist, Skyla jumped into the carriage.
“Where to, little missy?” the driver asked.
“10th Square Hospital, please,” Skyla answered.
The reins cracked twice and the carriage began to sway and move forward. The ride wouldn’t be long, which was a good thing considering how uncomfortable the ride was. The seats, which were once bright red and soft and nicely padded, were now worn away and dirty. Fluffs of cotton stuck out from various rips and tears. There were multiple stains on the floor and the upholstery on the walls was faded and colorless. Skyla was grateful when it was over.
“How much?” she asked as she climbed out, orchid in hand.
“5 pieces,” he answered.
Skyla dug inside the pocket of her green skirt and pulled out the money. Upon handing it to the driver, she curtsied politely, then turned and hurried into the hospital. As she pushed past the heavy oaken doors, she was met by the smell of freshly mopped floors and medical alcohol. She walked to the front desk.
“Hello. I’m Skyla Arden and I’m here to see my brother,” she said, smiling. The lady at the desk smiled back and pointed down the hallway.
“Nicholas Arden? Yes, he’s been moved to room 12. You may go down and see him,” she told Skyla.
“Thank you,” the girl said, and she wandered down the long white-floored, blue-walled hallway. She looked at each white door and at their silver numbers until she saw the one she was looking for.
“Number 12,” she smiled. She reached out her hand and clasped the cold silver door handle and turned it. She poked her head inside.
“Nicholas?” she called into the room.
 Cesteel · Wed Dec 03, 2008 @ 11:32pm · 0 Comments |
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