Mio

Whenever Mio became sick of the glooming whiteness of the walls, she turned to face the window. Her bed was right beside it, which made it convenient for her to forget that this was her second week at the Northwestern Memorial Hospital. She enjoyed watching people coming and going, and found it particularly interesting to see how outfits change with the weather. She had a long way to go, and the nurse reminded her of that everyday. 

You might think that it is cruel of the nurse to do so. You should try to imagine being pestered constantly by an eleven year old while you are simply trying to finish your 36 hour shift. Like this. 

“Nurse Megan?” Mio would start. 

“Yes Miss Mio?” 

“How long has it been since I got here?” 

Nurse Megan would reply like a machine, “A bit short of two weeks.” 

“How long will it be until I can leave?” 

“A month,” the nurse answered. 

“That’s a long time,” Mio said, “How many weeks until then?” 

“Four weeks.” 

Mio asked. “Not any earlier?” 

“Nope.” 

The nurse never looked at Mio in the eye. You try brushing a little girl’s hair while maintaining eye contact. Harder than you think. 

Mio tried to look back, but Nurse Megan held on to her braid, making it almost impossible. 

Mio asked. “Can I try walking today?”

“You’re gonna eat your breakfast or what?” Nurse Megan cocked her head at the food. 

Mio picked up a spoon and started picking at the hospital breakfast placed in front of her. A concoction of oatmeal and apple slices. She didn’t care for it. 

She tried her luck again, “Can I try walking today?” 

“Not if your leg is still in a cast you can’t.” 

The nurse stepped a step back to look at the back of Mio’s head, admiring her work. The girl’s unruly hair was finally combed straight and put up into a neat braid, tied at the end with a bright yellow ribbon. Nurse Megan was not a difficult person to please. She always found joy in braiding the hair of her younger patients, and decorating their semi-permanent bed heads with brightly colored ribbons she brought from home. Mio didn’t really care for it, but she never said anything.  

“Doctor Acosta will be in soon. Finish your food.” 

Nurse Megan headed towards the door. She never ended up making eye contact. The door closed behind her, and once again, it was just Mio and her characters. Yes, her characters in their stories. They danced about the room, bare feet tapping on the cold, spotless hospital floor. They opened the window and jumped out into the crisp autumn air. They reached for the maple branches, surfing the breeze as they would waves of the Praia do Forte sea. Mio could hear the melody to which her characters swayed about, and in her mind, she joined them. She straightened her left leg, while her right one remained stiffly elevated. In her head, seasons were always changing. 

She closed her eyes. Right now, in Marseille, a boy named Michel was on a ski trip with his family when he discovered an abandoned trail. Does he explore it? Yes. What does he see? A forgotten village, entirely occupied by old witches and their cats. 

Mio grinned. 

Somewhere in Hiroshima, an old man went on his daily walk to the creek when he befriended a lost dog. No, maybe two lost dogs. The more the merrier. 

Somewhere in time, a young German soldier in Poland stumbled upon a mansion. The owners have evacuated, he thought, yet he heard the wonderful sounds of a piano coming from the highest floor. 

Mio reached under her pillow and pulled out her journal. She had kept a pencil between its pages, and a pressed leaf between the cover and the first page, just to remind herself that the world outside awaits her return. Another story begins, and Mio was no longer bed-ridden in a hospital. She had yet to decide where to go today, but she was no longer there.