Whispers of Death by Alicia Rivoli Page B

from me.  A dark smile formed on his lips.  He knew at that moment that he had found the right person, the person to defeat Fear and get back what had been stolen from him.
     

Nine
        I sighed as Fear finally retreated and I could no longer feel the agonizing pain of the people around me.  It was a horrible feeling knowing that my emotions had almost taken the lives of the people in this hospital.
        "It isn't your fault."
        I looked up. Death watched me with understanding. "I know, it's yours," I said angrily. "If you wouldn't have done what you did to my son, this never would have happened."
        I stormed away from him down the hall and back toward my son’s room.  Fear wasn't what I felt anymore; it was anger.  My son was sitting in the hospital because Death had decided to put him here.  As I came closer to Hunter's room, my breathing became labored, and I knew I was about to have a panic attack.  I found the nearest chair and dropped into it.  I pulled my legs up and rocked myself back and forth.  I knew that I had to control myself before I went back into Hunter's room.  I had to get my emotions under control so Fear didn't come take my son's life.
        "Miss, are you okay?"
        I looked up; a woman stood in front of me dressed in black scrubs with a stethoscope stretched around her neck. "Yes. Just out of breath." I tried to reassure the nurse.
        She raised an eyebrow at me, shrugged, and walked back toward the nurses’ station down the hall.  I wiped at my eyes.  I didn't know when I had started crying, but it was no surprise; it was one of my biggest flaws. I took a few more deep breaths, combed through my hair, and walked back to my son's room.
        Mark stood as I walked in.  He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around me. "Are you okay?" he asked.
        I instantly knew that I hadn't given myself enough time outside. "I'll be fine," I lied.
        "Lia, what happened? You can't lie to me."
        He had always been able to tell when I was lying. "Nothing, I just want to take Hunter and go home," I told him.
        He pulled my face back so he could look into my eyes. "Hunter is going to be okay."
        "I want to take him home." I pulled my face away from him and looked at my son.  He was on the bed watching a show on the television, not a care in the world.
        "The doctors said he should stay the night," Mark said, pulling back to look at him. "He has a concussion."
        "No, he doesn't.  There’s nothing at all wrong with him.  It was some stupid game that Death decided I needed to play." My voice broke at the last sentence.  Mark inhaled deeply.
        "What?" he said. Now the concern had turned to anger.
        "Death did this. He said he needed me to see the hospital, so he put Hunter to sleep and made it look like he’d been in an accident.  Hunter is fine." I sobbed.
        Mark pulled me in tighter to hug me, then I heard something unexpected; he was laughing.
        "This isn't funny!" I said, walking away from him and sitting next to the window.
        Mark suppressed his smile and walked over to me; he took my hand in his and kissed it. "Sweet, sweet Amelia, my love, Hunter is going to be okay. I'm relieved that there is nothing wrong. I have been worried sick for the last several hours, and now I know that he will be okay.  Don't you see?" he asked me.
        I looked back over at Hunter and watched; his breathing was slow and long.  He was engulfed by the show, and from the peaceful look on his face, it was a good one.
        "Yes," I whispered. "I do see."
    I leaned down and kissed my son on the forehead and smiled. He was going to be okay. He didn't have a concussion or anything else.  It really was a relief, one that I hadn't considered.  I rubbed my hand down his sweet little face and smiled.  Mark stood behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder.  I sighed deeply.  He was going to be okay.