Bleached White

Bleached White --- prose--- A girl sat alone in the empty gray vehicle with dirt grimed windows parked in the parking lot across from a hospital. Her hair was unkept, standing on end it's very split ends, grunged as if it had not yet been washed. Wisps of her grunged blonde hair hung over her pale forehead as she glared daggers at the sign that read "the Memorial Hospital". She could hear nothing. Not the shouts of traffic or screeching of the nearby sirens. Anyone would assume she was just deaf or lethargic, assuming anyone would assume anything about her sitting there. A familiar voice interrupted her muted inner turmoil, "We are here now honey... You can get out of the car." Pushing her thoughts away, she nodded and pressed her fingers against the door handle. It wasn't until that moment,which seemed to frozen in her own mind, she realized her black nail varnish was chipping, and there was dirt smothered underneath her nails. She had let herself go. Slamming the door shut, she looked to her father for reassurance. There was none. His eyes were just as dull as her own brown puddle eyes. She watched him closely,smoke billowed out of his mouth as he stared at his feet while he walked,Like he had a guilty concience. Throwing his cigarette to the ground when they neared the building. He scuffed his foot into the cement,mangling the cigarette into a mere pile of ash.It seemed more spiteful this day. The ground was covered in a layer of crisp dirt snow, and the sun dimly reflected on the sheets of snow.'It must be late, if your eyes don't burn just looking at the reflection in the snow,' She thought shuffling her feet towards the doors.Those mindless random thoughts kept her sane for those few moments. The doors folded open, letting warm air rush out to greet the cold visitors. On another less melancholy occasion, she might have also greeted the air. But this was not such an occasion. She looked to her father, mentally begging on her hands and knees to climb back in the car and drive somewhere faraway ,but he only trudged on forward. The halls were a burning abyss of white. Everything was white. The tiles, the ceiling, the walls, and the bright reflection of the white lights on the white tiles. All white. Even the smell seemed white. It was a sterile smell. Sickening to it's very core. It was as if bleach and Lysol were mingling together for years,a disgusting hybird. A smell only present in hospitals. She inhaled deeply, hoping if she had any luck, the smell would make her faint. Instead the smell only tainted her nostrils for the next few months. Her father stopped abruptly. He began repeatedly tapping a button to the elevator, each time hoping it would come faster. When it finally did come, it was empty. Walking in the only thing the girl could think supporting her body on the rail was how amazed she was that the elevator was gray and not white like everything else located in hospital. The moments alone with her father in the elevator dragged on for what seemed like years not mere seconds. He kept sending worried glances to his daughter, who watched the lights of the floors blink. She glanced at her father seeing him with his worried eyes locked on her. It made a silent shiver go up her back realizing how close she was. The elevator slammed to a stop. Her father once again led the way. He turned a corner, coming to a window with a small counter underneath. A head popped out, smiling, and seemed to be floating out of nowhere. "Can I help you?" It said in an impossibly chipper voice. The girl stumbled into the room a few moments after her father. She looked around. A woman sat with her head in her lap and another sat there with a solemn smile on her face. She hated this place. It did things to people. She watched her father discuss a incomprehensible conversation with the floating head. She only cocked her head at the lady in response when she had glared at her. The clock above the window read 3:14 PM. The visiting hour had started. The hour she had been dreading. "Okay! You may go in now," the floating head said. Soon after a buzzer rang and a click sounded. Her father turned to face her. "Ready?" he stated more then asking, he turned the brass doorknob. The girl took one last deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat. She walked through the door and never dared to look back.