Excerpt: Ghosts in The Mirror

The sound of steady blips filled the darkened room. Sitting beside Jeremy, Romy held his hand like she’d done for the past year hoping that he wakes up. The constant anxiety that this time he would slip away caused a tear to roll down her cheek again. This, by far, was the longest time he’d been in this state and his condition never got better when he did wake from this. Over the years, it got worse.

“Please, Jeremy. I take back that time I duct taped you to the wall in gym class if you just wake up.” She said. Sighing, she squeezed his hand one more time before letting go. Being a Candy Striper in the hospital meant she actually had to visit other room. She picked up her violin and placed it beneath her chin.

“One more time for you, Jerrie.” She played an upbeat tempo, her hands shaking so much the bow slipped from the strings a couple of times. She gritted her teeth and drew the bow hard against the strings, changing to a Tchaikovsky piece. As she finished, she leapt back as Jeremy sat up in his bed. His hands failed, ripping out the many tubes sticking out of him.

Pale and mechanical, Jeremy scrambled out of the bed and to the private bath he had. He clutched the sides of the toilet bowl as a torrent of red mucus spewed from his mouth. He gasped and shuddered, slumping down and looking at the mess he’d made. In the doorway Romy stood crying, one the strings on her violin hanging limp.

“C-c-old.” Jeremy rasped, his turning blue. Romy grabbed the blankets from the bed and wrapped them around him and he desperately clutched her. “D-d-don’t l-let th-th-them…”

“Shh, Jerrie. I’ll clean it up before.” Romy Groaned as the door to his room opened and the hospital’s posses swooped in. “Too late.”

She backed away before they man handled her.

“Out.” Jeremy’s doctor directed her with a stern finger toward the door.

“But I can.”

“Get out.”

Romy muttered under her breath and grabbed her violin case before storming out. Staying just outside the door, since the doctor didn’t concisely tell her how far to get from t he room, she flipped open her cell phone.

“Grandma? He woke up.” She said before hiding the phone away. She smiled sweetly at the nurse walking by. “I guess I’m finished for the day.” She shrugged and held up the violin. That garnered a stern look which Romy answered by sticking out her tongue after the nurse turned her back.

-##-

“Jeremy look at me.”

Jeremy’s teeth chattered as he did as told. He’d never been this cold before when waking and the red goo was also a first. Red could mean only one thing and he didn’t know if he had the strength to deal with an angry spirit. The slew of doctors, lead by the evil Dr. Frankenstein, poked and prodded him in the confines of the bathroom. No doubt they’d called ahead for the steel examination table to whisk him away for the myriad of tests he’d endure. Something Jeremy referred to as standard protocol. Losing the time while his body lapsed into the unending sleep never really bugged him. The time lost irked Jeremy a bit but the absolute worst part happened now.

Dr Frankenstein would test Jeremy’s patience and body trying to find out why he slipped into this state in the first place. Jeremy knew but he wasn’t about to tell his evil overlord the cause. He stomach boiled and Jeremy heaved, getting a small bit of satisfaction as the red goo splattered on Frankenstein. Jeremy’s impeccable luck smiled down as the gurney came rolling in. They hoisted him on and the mad dash to warm him up began.

The usual things ticked off out of the doctor’s mouth. Temperature way below normal (duh), the vomiting (including the lovely color), his brain activity before the incident (not that his brain even stopped freaking them out while he lay in a coma), and needing to contact his grandmother (something Jeremy knew Romy had taken care of already). It concerned Jeremy that, even though they had him strapped down, his right arm fought against the restraints.

“Relax, Jeremy.” His evil nemesis said.

“T-turrets.” Jeremy muttered.

“I’m not falling for that one, Mr. Riggs. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice.”

Jeremy, in fact, had fooled the doctor with that syndrome about five times. Looked like fate kicked him in the ass this time because his arm moved without him commanding it. Ha-ha, Mr. Riggs. You’ve fucked with my whim long enough. I shall have my revenge. He tried to get the spastic limb under control, knotting up the blanket. He turned his head to the side, gazing into the shiny metal of the gurney’s bars. The angry aura glowed fiercely and Jeremy mumbled under his breath in a sing-song manner using Gaelic to throw off the doctors. They thought he bordered on crazy anyways. He concentrated and started, hoping to sooth the spirit banging on the walls of his fragile body. They were stuck until he figured out why they hopped a ride in him.

Slowly his arm relaxed and he sighed until Dr. Frankenstein jerked his head forward. At once the right side of his body protested and he jerked. Jeremy remembered from a very early age the pain of these seizures and even though his throat protested, he cried out. It hurt, plain and simple. The thing trapped in him, in unfamiliar territory, readjusted and tried to seize the day- or Jeremy’s body in this case- to reap their havoc on the world.

His chariot stopped in midstride in the hallway as they tried to stick his out of control body with their soothing cocktail. Jeremy concentrated on the wall security mirror and began to reason with the intruder. He also sent a plea to fate that he’d never pants him again if fate would stop the ‘kick junk, take wallet’ relationship. Slowly his muscles unknotted just as they were able to jab a needle in his vein. His skin flushed and his teeth stopped beating to the tune only Jeremy could hear. His only regret came when he slowly felt his eyelids closing. Fate must have decided he could only keep the wallet portion of that deal.