Lady in Blue II

I saw the lady in blue again. But it wasn’t like last time. This time, I disappeared.

I know how it sounds. People don’t just disappear out of thin air on the subway, right? Well I did.

I hadn’t seen the lady in blue for two days, and I was just getting used to that other constant in my life. Miller was gone now. Sudden stroke. He went peacefully, in his sleep. He didn’t feel any pain. But I tried to save him. I really did.

I sighed as I stepped onto the familiar subway in my scrubs that matched the blue tile on Memorial’s floors that smelled like sick people and antiseptic. Because of Memorial, I had the constant beeping of a heart monitor stuck inside my head, and I would hear it in random places. Maybe that’s why I’m always on edge.

I went to my regular seat and took a deep breath, waiting for the sudden lurch of the subway that I could never get used to. I looked up at the ceiling, with the insanely bright overhead lights that would flicker slightly. I sighed again and then looked ahead. My heart stopped just a little bit.

It was her.

It was the lady in the blue dress.

I looked at her, and she looked exactly like I remembered. Doll-like pale skin, and soft tear marks under her eyes. And her hair was still perfect, which I noted again as I self-consciously patted down my frizzy bun. She still had the notebook, but there were different initials on it now. Instead of L.R.S., it was R.J.M. It had to have been a coincidence. I had always assumed that the original initials belonged to the woman, but now they were different, but in the exact same notebook. It really had to be a complete coincidence. There was no way that it was really my initials on the notebook. But they were still mine, in a way. R, standing for Rosie, J, standing for Jane, and M, standing for Mason. My name: Rosie Jane Mason. I looked at the lady and smiled, like I had the first time I saw her. She waved a little, with her icy hands. Then, she said something.

“Rosie, short for Rosemary. I never liked the name Rosemary. Some people would tease me about that name. I didn’t like it at all, so I started telling people my name was Rosie. Common, and not named after a spice or something.”

I froze in my seat, suddenly hyper aware of my surroundings. I had never owned a notebook like that, but I do remember saying something like that in a notebook of some sort. But the woman’s voice was incredibly eerie. It was like a ghost, but in the form of a whisper. I looked around the subway to see if anybody else had turned their heads, or recognized something, but nobody did. Nobody even seemed to notice that she was there. She was there though, right?

I smiled a little nervously and pulled out my phone. Just the same old notifications. But then, something dinged. It was a message.

(Unknown Number) (677)-324-675: Hello, Rosie. I think it’s time we met officially. My name is Miriam. I know, right? Miriam. Such a pet name, ugh. The truth is- I’m just like you. I may not look like it, but I am just like you. I ride this subway all the days that you do, and I know what goes on in your mind. Yikes. Anyway, Look up. I’d like you to meet some of my friends.

My breath hitched, and I could feel a bead of sweat starting to form on my forehead. I silently cursed the sweat gland gods.

“Rosie, look up,” the lady in blue said. I looked at her, and she had a soft smile on her face. That’s when I saw it. A crack. An actual crack, like a rupture, or a fracture. It was in her cheek, and it ran down her cheek and through her eye like it was natural. Like it had been there all her life. I could feel my brain pushing into fight or flight mode. I mean, this wasn’t a horror movie. I wasn’t some fictional character that teenage girls went crazy over. I was real. I was an ICU nurse. I had a real life, and this wasn’t some pretend game that people play when they’re bored and corrupted. Maybe insane, too.

I really, really didn’t want to look up. I didn’t look up, but then the lady in blue got up. I covered my mouth. I saw her shoes- little blue Mary Jane shoes. She walked on her tiptoes, not creasing her shoes at all. I stared at her, sensing my nightmares shifting into reality.

She stopped briefly, to the point where her ice-blue eyes were staring at mine. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I gasped a little at the coldness of her hands. That type of coldness only happened to people suffering hypothermia or were about to die. I stared at the fracture in her face and tried to stand up, but the lady in blue put her other icy hand on my chin. Her hands were soft, but I could feel each of her individual bones in her hand. That wasn't normal.

She took the hand that was interlocked in mine and put it on my chin as well, moving both of her hands to cup my face. She bent her head down, almost looking like she was going to kiss me. I wish she had kissed me.

"You don't have to be scared anymore," she whispered, her breath minty and freezing, "just look up."

I shook my head a little to say no, but then she smiled wickedly, the fracture in her pale cheek growing. A few more tears dropped down her face, but she was still smiling. She tightened her grip on my chin. Suddenly, she tilted it up.

There was just blackness.

So much darkness.

And fear.

I could hear a little hum happening in the background.

It was that song again. Lady in Blue.

But it was more high-pitched this time.

It felt forced, and the guitar was hitting all the wrong notes. It wasn't a song that I could confide in anymore, it was a twisted lullaby.

Suddenly, a room appeared. I could feel myself floating.

It was Miller's room.

It was the only room in the hospital that I swore I would never go to again. The others understood, so I took other rooms.

But I swore I would never go back to his room.

The darkness started creeping up my legs, pulling me down. I didn't want to go down. Down meant ground. Ground means real life. Real life meant that I had to face this.

I wanted to stay floating.

I was so tired, so insanely tired.

Then, I saw a figure in Miller's bed. Miller's bed.

I floated towards the figure, making sure my feet couldn't touch the ground.

I peeked at the figure- it was Miller.

Actually.

I held my hands over my mouth and started to feel warm tears dripping down my face. It was Miller.

"Hey, bud," something said. That's what I said to him on his last good day. I looked at the figure in the door. It wasn't me. It was somebody else.

Then, Miller flipped a calendar.

He pointed to March Eighth- the day he died. I could feel the warm tears dripping down my face again.

"This is Marjorie and my wedding anniversary, Bella," Miller said. My name wasn't Bella. The nurse who wasn't me laughed a little and smiled sweetly, but then I saw inside her mind. She was counting down the hours until her shift ended. She didn't love Miller at all, to her, he was just another deteriorating ICU patient. I felt more warm tears dripping. I couldn't stop them this time.

Then, Miller flipped the calendar again. It was to February Ninth- the day he almost died again. But I had saved him. I smiled a little, despite myself. I had won at least once.

Suddenly, Miller disappeared. My mind put the puzzle pieces together. Bella's patient died on February Ninth, but mine died on March Eighth. I didn't know if I was supposed to learn a lesson, but maybe I did do something right. At least the last two people he ever saw were his wife, Marjorie, and me.

I could feel the warm tears still cascading down my face.

Suddenly, Miller disappeared. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the lady in blue again. This time, the cracks and fractures covered her entire face, deciding who she was.

"My sweet Rosie," she said, her voice a twisted lullaby, "I was never there. You were imagining all of it. I'm not here to comfort you. I was in your dreams, and I was in your nightmares. You loved really hard. You lost incredibly hard. You don't have to move on. But you need to wake up."

I looked at her, and tried to open my mouth. I tried screaming, but it was like my head was underwater. No sound came out.

"Don't scream," she said, putting her icy hand up as the fractures on her face slowly got bigger, wider.

"Wake up." she said again. I pressed my hand to her bony, icy one. The warm tears dropped from both of our faces in sync. Her fingers suddenly felt more warm. She was still broken, but maybe I could accept it. I didn't have to fix her. For once, I could drop my shoulders a little and sigh.

"Wake up," she repeated. I looked at her, in her beauty. Despite all the fractures on her face, her dress was wrinkle-free and her hair was still perfect. I envied everything about her, but she was still broken.

"Wake. Up." she whispered, a little bit harsher this time. Suddenly, the song came back. It grew, getting louder and louder.

"It's okay," she said, her face slowly breaking, "I'm okay. Just wake up."

I looked at her one last time, and then I woke up.