I usually like the night shift, it’s quiet, and I can get my studying done, but these last couple of weeks should have been a warning that something terrible was going to happen.
I call this ward the tomato farm since most patients here are vegetables. I make my rounds, check and see that all their vitals are good. Easy. Once in a while, someone will open their eyes. It’s a little unnerving at first, but you get used to it.
The protocol is to verify that they haven’t regained consciousness, which I’ve never seen. Then you close their eyes back to prevent them from being damaged. It’s weird what the body can do. I hate when it happens, and their family is in the room. It gives them this false sense of hope. If I’m being honest, it’s a pain in the ass. No one wants that little hope they have taken away, and I’m the asshole who has to explain that it’s just the body having some reaction.
A few weeks ago, it started happening a lot. We kept getting these patients, the same deal every time, non-responsive, and every night their eyes would open. I’d say the most I’ve ever encountered, and they were all going Marty Feldman on me, with their eyes popping open.
I noticed it always seemed to happen around 3 am. The doctors said I was letting the night get to me. Nothing sounded that unusual. Maybe it was the moon or something. Who knows? Doctors.
Denial is powerful, and no one wants to sound like a lunatic, so when I started seeing the lady, I chalked it up to my imagination or too much coffee. You stare down at enough people in white robes lying in white beds, then look up at a dark hall. You blink and see some afterimages, it happens.
But this lady seemed to be there, just in the corner of my eye. I’d turn, and there’s no one there. I tried not to think about it too much. It’s freaky enough being mostly alone here without thinking some ghost or whatever is following you around.
Last week though, it happened so often that I went back and scrubbed through some security footage to make sure. I didn’t see anyone, only me.
I don’t know why I stayed or why didn’t I say something. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. What’s happening is real. If I don’t make it, talk to the cop that arrested the new guy, Mr. Wilson.
His Report read like a horror story.
The EMT who brought him into the ER kept telling the staff the cop who found him was freaking out a little about seeing some lady. A lady who sounded just like the one I saw, the one who I saw tonight, the one who is looking for me.
The new guy, Wilson, was the same as the others we’d been seeing. Vegetive state with no signs of consciousness. His first night here, around 3:33, when I made my rounds, I saw that his eyes were open. I went through the motions to confirm he hadn’t recuperated. He was still out, just his eyes, so as I closed them, I saw her again, same as always, just in the corner of my eye, a quick, fleeting moment. Only this time, when I turned my head, she was still standing in the corner of the room. I got a good look at her for the first time, and God, I wish I hadn’t.
Her face looked almost uneven, like her eyes were not entirely lined up. Her mouth was just a little wider than normal. It was opened in this horrible mix between a smile and a snarl with too many teeth. Her skin was sickly gray and white, and the lines on her cheeks looked painfully pulled back. She had her hands up like she was blocking light from her eyes.
I was so startled I fell back and almost landed on Mr. Wilson. I looked down at him, and I swear he had the same look on his face as this lady. I shut my eyes for a moment, and she’s not there, and Mr. Wilson’s face is back to normal. I was pretty shaken up after that and headed back to my desk.
Look, I get it. I should have run out of there right then and there, but quitting over a ghost sighting isn’t the best thing for a resume. Besides, I was studying to be an NP, and school was stressing me out, and being here all night messes with your head, or at least that’s what I told myself.
It continued like that for a few more days, always around the same time Mr. Wilson’s eyes would open, I would close them, and there she would be. A little bit closer every night.
Last night, she was at the foot of his bed. She was so close. I told the head nurse I needed off tonight. I wasn’t convinced what I saw was real, but I also didn’t want to see how much closer she would get. They said no, the hospital is short-staffed, and I’m on. I begged. I lied. I was going to tell them about the lady, but as the words ran through my head, I knew they would think I had lost it. They’d probably make a note on my file and tell everyone I was some nut bag.
So I showed up for my shift, dreading the whole night. It started better than usual. I did my rounds, but nothing out of the ordinary. I’m not too proud to say this, but I ignored Mr. Wilson’s room. I care for my patients but wasn’t stepping foot in that room.
The night was uneventful, and then the code alarm went off. I checked the time. It was 3:33. My stomach sank because I knew which room it would be in. I looked at the board, and the light blinked next to “S. Wilson.”
The walk to his room felt like a trudge through clay. I had to focus on little details to move forward. The tiles on the floor. Posters on the wall. The door knob. I can’t tell you what it took to force my hand on that door knob.
I walked into the room, turned off the alarm, and checked his vitals. I was relieved that, for once, his eyes were shut. As I checked on Mr. Wilson, I had this sinking feeling that someone was close behind me. I turned, and there she was. I fell backward and scurried for the door. This time she didn’t disappear or freeze. She continued to step toward me.
I got outside the doorway and into the hallway. The lady didn’t seem to be in a rush, but she continued toward me. That horrible look on her face never changed, and she made no sound.
I could hear doors throughout the ward slam open. I looked up, and all the patients who’ve come in lately stood in the hallway. Behind the lady, Mr. Wilson stepped out as well. He was crying. As I looked, all the other patients were crying, too. They looked scared.
I moved further away, not sure what to do. The lady kept her slow pace in step with mine. All the patients looked as though they were being pulled toward the lady. Their feet squeaked as they slid across the tile. The panic on their faces as they got closer to her is something I can’t forget. The lady stopped for a moment as all the patients were dragged behind her. They all seemed to merge into her. Their silent screams and wide eyes were nothing but pure terror. I could hear the alarms going off as all the patients in the ward coded.
The lady’s face strained as her snarl transitioned into some outwardly smile. I could hear this voice in my head say, “join us. We are one.” I don’t know how, but I somehow knew this voice in my head was her. Whatever she is.
I got up and ran. Now, I’m hiding and hoping to God she doesn’t find me.