The Hospital

Frank held tightly onto the letter that his daughter wrote to him when she was five. He read the words “I love you Daddy” over and over again. He couldn't believe any of this was happening. The wind rushed through the hospital window trying to blow the note from his hands. He pocketed the note and stared into the hallway of the ward.

He looked around at the doctors and nurses; they all moved around with ease. Without fear. They were in the business of saving lives and they would.

Frank didn't like hospitals very much. Ever since the death of his wife he couldn't get comfortable in a hospital. Every doctor he saw reminded him of Dr Hyde: the doctor that couldn't save his wife.

All Frank had left was his daughter, Carol. He loved her so much. Even though he couldn't really afford it, he bought her that purple BMW that she wanted desperately. He now wished that he hadn't.

He put his head in his hands and began to massage his eyes. He’d been up for about thirty hours. He was tired but did not want to sleep.

He rubbed his eyes too hard and too long; his eyes became nothing but visual static.

When the static cleared, a doctor was standing in front of him. She was wearing a surgical mask and green overalls covered in blood. She took her mask off.

‘Mr McInally?’ she said.

Frank stood up and looked into her eyes with his, red with tiredness. ‘Yes.’ said Frank.

‘Your daughter. I'm sorry…’

Frank’s eyes hurt as the tears streamed down his face.