The Doctors took the bandage off yesterday. I’d reached into my moms purse while she was out, fishing for her hand held mirror. Pulling the round black plastic out of the bag I dropped it on my lap. My hands were shaking with anticipation. Picking it back up, I tried to steady my hands. I flipped it open and stared at myself. The skin that had been under the bandage was a soft pink and cracking around the edges. Dark spots that looked like bruises were littered over my right eye. Doctor Peterson says that’s where the rocks went in. A long, jagged, stripe of skin ran from the corner of my eyebrow, across my forehead, and up into my hair. My usually slightly long, inky black locks, were extra short and a little spiky. I scowled carding a hand through my hair and fingering the scar. It was soft and bumpy and still a little sore. With a wince I removed my hand, leaning back against the pillows for the one millionth time.


I looked back up when I heard the low rumble of someone clearing their throat. Haily leaned in the door frame like she always did. She wore the same black hoodie, jeans, and boots. Her visits had grown more regular and now she visited me every couple of days. I’d asked her once why she came at such odd times and she’d told me she came whenever she had a chance.


“Hey!” I said, waving her inside and dropping the mirror back into Mom’s purse. She stepped into the room, marching over to my bed and sitting down in the chair. She had her hood up today. I gestured to her odd apparel, “Whats up with the hood?”


She shrugged. “Rain.” Was all she said, eyes to the floor. I nodded. This was usually how our conversations went. I did most of the talking, her replies simple grunts or one word responses.


“They took the bandage off today. My hairs all weird. It used to be longer, like long enough to cover my eyes but y’know not girly long. Before they shaved it, it stopped at my chin and curled out a little. But now it’s all short.” I said, using my hands to illustrate what I was saying. I had a nasty habit of waving my hands around when I talked. Which usually led to knocking things over. I was definitely not the most graceful person alive, tripping up stairs and falling on my face a lot.


Haily smiled a little and looked up at my hair, avoiding my eyes. Her brow furrowed, and her lips slightly parted. But it wasn’t the usual zoned out moment, that only happened when she looked me in the eye. This time I think she was just freaked out about my scar.


“Cool huh? I mean not cool, but it’s a pretty wicked scar.” I gave her a grin. Her brow furrowed deeper. My grin faltered. “Hey, you still there sweetheart?” I asked, snapping my fingers in front of her face. She blinked, closing her mouth. Slowly she pulled a hand out of her pocket, reaching up towards my face. I didn’t even bother raising an eyebrow. She was always doing weird stuff like this.


Pressing her fingers against my head, she frowned, zoning out again. My eyelids fluttered, an odd tingling running up my spine. It was so eerie. I felt like she was looking inside me, unlocking the parts of my brain even I didn’t know about. As if her hands had access to everything I’d ever thought, read, felt, or said. But of course, that was impossible. Wasn’t it?


I snapped my head back up when a commotion outside caught my eye. Three men stood at the receptionist counter, each of them in a black suit, each of them wearing dark sunglasses. It reminded me of that movie, Men in Black. Although I didn’t think a parade of aliens were going to attack us any time soon. Probably just some law issues needed to be discussed with a patient or something.


I turned my head to look at Haily, who had removed her hand and was glancing out the door. She whipped her head back around to face me, staring with wide, fearful, yellow eyes. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what was wrong. But then there was a bunch of yelling. I snapped my head back up to see a blond woman in blue nurse scrubs trying to hold back the men.


“But sir! You can’t go in there!” The tallest man grunted, flashing what looked like an FBI I.D. Nurse Cappella (I knew her name because she came into my room to change my I.V. and stuff every day) huffed, stepping aside. The men continued down the hall, fanning out and entering rooms.


‘Help me’ Haily mouthed the words slowly, not making a sound. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask her what was wrong, but she placed a finger over my lips in one swift sweep of her hand. I blinked, nodding, and looked around. Obviously these men were looking for her. Obviously she didn’t want them to find her. Obviously they were FBI agents or something and had special training to find her. So where the h*ll was I going to hide her?


My gaze flashed around the room. Bathroom? Nah. Closet? Nope. Behind the curtains? No! There really wasn’t a good place to hide! But Haily seemed to take matters into her own hands. Before I could tell her I didn’t know, she dove under the bed, disappearing beneath me. Just in time too, because at that very moment one of the Men In Black dudes walked in.


The guy was tall and dark skinned, his shoulders wide and bulky. A tiny ear bud sat in his right ear and something bulged under his jacket. It sure did look like a gun to me. But why would these guys be after someone like Haily? Quiet, shy, a little odd but still. She seemed harmless. Maybe they weren’t even looking for her. Maybe she was just acting weird again and these guys were looking for someone else. A fugitive from Alcatraz maybe. Some guy who’d murdered 13 people and decided to hide out in a hospital. Charlie Manson! Yeah, it was probably that guy.


“Mr.... Monroe?” The guy asked in an unusually high pitched voice. I suppressed the urge to giggle. And then I noticed how he wasn’t reading from a card or a file. He just knew my name. Why the h*ll did everyone know my name?!


“Yeah.... that’s me....?” I said hesitantly, eyeing the big guy.


“Son of James Monroe?” I nodded. What the fudge. He just happened to know my dad’s name too? My DEAD dad’s name? My dead dad who died only a YEAR ago’s name? This was just getting way too creepy.


“Yeah.....” Mr. High Voice gave me a grunt, muttering to himself about something that had to do with James Monroe. I raised an eyebrow straining to hear his words. This would of been a good time for a radio active spider to come around and bite me. Super Hearing seemed like the only way I was going to catch his mumbles.


“Okay... Mr. Monroe. Have you seen or heard about a girl named Haily VonBlack?” I gulped. Haily VonBlack? Of course I didn’t know Haily’s last name. This could very well be just another Haily running around.


“Um... not that I know of.” My hands were shaking. “W-what does she um... look like?”


“Tall. Probably 5’11”” Well just about everyone was tall compared to me. Curse my mother and her freakish midget genes. I stood at only a rough 5’2” and Haily was like a sky scraper, towering over me. “Red hair?” Oh c’mon, Logan! Stop kidding yourself. I’m sure there’s just another Haily with red hair who’s running from the government. “Gorgeous yellow eyes?” Sh*t. Haily was going to have some explaining to do.


“N-no... don’t think I saw any yellow eyes. There’s a nurse on the second floor with red hair, but she had green eyes.” I mumbled, stumbling over my words, my hands shaking like mad.


“You sure boy? Don’t lie. I’m from the FBI and this is a VERY important matter.” I shook my head quickly.


“Yeah, yeah I’m sure. Never saw her before.” The man silenced himself, listening. I held my breath hoping Haily wouldn’t make a sound. The man swiveled his head, glancing around the room and then he stomped over to the closet, flinging open the door. No Haily there. He opened to bathroom and even looked behind the curtains but there was no Haily. And the idiot didn’t even bother looking under the bed. Stupid. Thank fate he was stupid.


With one last suspicious glare, he bulldozed out of the room and down the hall to join his buddies. I kept my gaze on him until he was out of sight, making sure he didn’t come back. When he was down the hall, I leaned over the railing on my bed and looked under. There was no one there. I frowned, where’d she go? Looking back up, I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. The curtain was moving. The window was a jar, the chilly February breeze blowing the shades.


The window hadn’t been open before.