The Free (P.S.)
“She was sixteen with short, badly cut blond hair. She was frail and underweight by twenty pounds, and it made her look much younger than she was. She had sad eyes that were set too close to her nose, and her skin was pearl white with no blemishes except for a single pimple on her chin. A teenage boy sat next to her in dirty, ripped jeans. He had on four shirts layered under a ragged black-leather jacket. His hair was greasy and matted and cut crudely, and his hands were covered in scabs and homemade tattoos. His fingernails were black with grease and dirt. He looked ill under the fluorescent lights: pale and tired, and his face was covered in acne.
Pauline entered the room and introduced herself to the girl and the boy sitting next to her. But the girl didn’t acknowledge her, and the boy wouldn’t look at her directly.
“Can you hear me, Jo?” Pauline said and moved to the side of the bed. She waved a hand in front of the girl’s face. “Are you able to talk? I’m your swing-shift nurse and... I need to check your leg.”MoreLess
Pauline entered the room and introduced herself to the girl and the boy sitting next to her. But the girl didn’t acknowledge her, and the boy wouldn’t look at her directly.
“Can you hear me, Jo?” Pauline said and moved to the side of the bed. She waved a hand in front of the girl’s face. “Are you able to talk? I’m your swing-shift nurse and... I need to check your leg.”MoreLess
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