***
We all got out of the mustang. Flowers were at each side of the entrance to the hospital. Lilies and roses were on both sides of the double doors. My dad opened the left door and I followed him inside.
A black lady was sitting at the front of the desk. Her green eyes glowed. I backed up for a minute. Her black hair swung back and forth in the air of the fan. She was wearing a black suit and a red dress shirt.
The room was burning hot.
“Hello, Sir. How can I help you?” she said.
“I’m here to investigate the latest Cithian attack.” I said.
“You must mean Jaren James. Right this
Way.” She said.
“Thank you. What’s your name?” I said.
The lady raised her eyebrows.
“Ashton Lawrence.” she said. Ashton led us to some red doors. Above them were these numbers: “287”. Ashton pressed some numbers on the keypad. The doors slid open.
“So, how’s Jaren?” I asked.
“Bad. The doctors have tried everything; even skin replacement. But, it just made the burn worse.”Ashton said.
A man in white came down the hall. Green eyes lay behind his broken glasses that were held together by duct tape. His hair was gray.
He entered the room right beside us. We followed him. Room 1 was painted sky blue. A nightstand was by the hospital bed. The room smelt like charcoal.
The patient was Jaren. His face was wrinkled. His mouth had dried out. All he could do was moan. He was also dressed in a white hospital gown. His clothes lay beside his bed. The light had burnt 6-inch holes all over his clothes and he was hooked to a heart monitor.