Tubes, Sugar, Blood, and Clean Floors

hospitals are almost as eerie as graveyards. the floors are too clean, moans from down the hall, seeing a kid your age strapped up to wires, blood dripping.

drip, drip, drip.

it looks like water, what they're putting into his right arm, but i'm nearly sure it's not. i think it's keeping him alive. or something. the potential [new] love of my life, smiling, saying he's okay for now.

thoughts, memories, oh hey, last chance.
vets are almost as eerie as hospitals.

i remember seeing the white mile. like the green mile, only for pets. we picked josie up from his overnight surgery. they yanked some teeth out that were infected, that were trying to kill my baby. i walked in, the smell of cleaning supplies attacking my nose. i scribbled my name and his on the little pad and stepped back. i heard them calling his name down the hall. i stepped away from the desk, arms folded. there sat a man with his hand on his dog's neck, both staring ahead with good posture.

a woman walked in with a rabbit. she was clutching the thing like she'd never put it down. a man in a lab coat came out of the side room and said hello to her, and to reese, and said to follow him. the woman's legs shook as she took reese into the room and they shut the door.

i heard the nurses cooing to my baby in the back. i stepped forward eagerly when they brought him around the corner. the nurse (?) handed me my baby and he wrapped his arms around my neck and buried his head under my chin. the nurse (?) said wow, he really loves you. yeah, i know. me and my cat. BFF.

i went to step back when the owner of reese burst out of the side room and ran outside. the curtains tried to follow her. the proper man with the proper dog flinched when the door slammed. the proper dog turned his head to look at the proper man, and the proper man said something to the proper dog. then they both looked forward again.

i stepped outside, the warmth of the sun and the roar of cars startling josie. i readjusted him in my arms. a woman sat outside next to an old greyhound. she gave me a blank stare before telling me that josie was a beautiful cat.
thank you, i said.
you love him? she asked.
of course i do.
i can tell. forced smile.
i went to turn when she said
don't let him go.

hold on to him tight.
with all you've got.
and never, never let him go.

i promised i wouldn't.

i walked to the van and climbed into the back, my mom finishing up her phone call before starting the engine. josie, high on whatever they gave him, flopped over to the other arm, eyes barely open. i looked to the car next to us, and there sat the bunny lady. her head resting on the steering wheel, her body riddled with sobs. i could hear her wailing. i could hear her broken heart. i could hear the footsteps echo off the empty walls in her house. not a home anymore. just a house. an empty shell.

a drop of blood ran from josie's mouth and hit my arm.

drip, drip, drip.

mom pulled away, leaving the broken lady, leaving the philosopher, leaving the prestigious man and his business partner. i tightened my grip on my baby. like i promised.

and everyone promises me that everything will be okay.

i'm nearly sure they wouldn't lie to me. he cracks a joke and his lips peel back over perfect teeth, again saying he'll be okay, and i force a grin back. don't lie to me.

if you're going to lie about anything,
anything at all,
please don't lie about this.