Marionette (A 'The 5th Wave' Fanfiction) [COMPLETED] #wattys2017

    Waiting for Ben is taking forever. I mean, how hard can it be to shoot some unsuspecting pedestrians and walk away?

    I know, I make it sound easy, but I'm losing my frickin' mind here!

    To keep myself busy I either walk in circles, help people around or stare at clouds. I'm hopeless.

    I absolutely decline the option of Ben not returning. If he wasn't returning I wouldn't be like a squirrel on heroin. What's taking him so long?! Ughhhh.

    I don't see a helicopter coming. I'm in the phase of walking in circles, thus paying no attention to the sky. I see a figure wobbling towards me and my heart skips. Could it be Ben?

     But then I notice Ben doesn't walk like a shot goose and I see only one other option—Domino.

    When he finally comes up to me he's struggling for breath. His shoulders shudder from the exercise, even though I doubt he ran for more than two minutes.

    "Ki-Ki-Kistner sent m-me," he stutters.

    I inhale sharply. "Is it Squad 53?" I ask in a rush.

    Dom lets out a weird noise. "Yes. Well- sort of." He wipes sweat off his forehead. "You'll see."

    Without another second to spare I dart to the hospital wing (Kistner sent him and he's a medic so that would make sence) and slam my hands on the register table. "Where is Squad 53?" I gasp.

    The lady looks unfazed as she types into her keyboard in boredom. "The boy?" she asks.

    Boy? If I remember correctly, Squad 53 had four boys- Ben, Poundcake, Dumbo, Flintstone. (If anyone's interested I named them in order from most to least favourite . . . Just putting that in there.)

    I give up and nod. She tells me to go to the third floor and room on the right. I practically fly up the staircase, nearly slam into a wall or two before I find the door and pull it open in less of a rush this time.

    I slowly walk around, peering into the beds of the patients. Ben is not there. Not in any of the beds.

    Then I go to the furthest one near a window where I can see his cinnamon hair catching the last rays of light before nightfall.

    I speed-walk to him and kneel on the bed next to him. "Ben! What's wro-"

    I answer my own question. The sheets around him are covered in blood and a bandage is wrapped across his neck. He's plugged into some dope, probably to ease the pain. A monitor beside him captures his heart rate.

    I gently take his hand and press it to my lips. His eyes open and are completely dazed. His irises are strangely small. "Rose . . ."

    His voice sounds terrible. You can hear all the pain and agony he is in in it. Makes my heart crack.

    But that might just be the monitor next to me.

    It starts beeping and making all sorts of noises. What does that mean?

    A medic I don't recognize rushes over, pulling a mask over her mouth. "We're losing him!" she yells and more doctors rush to Ben's bed. I'm shoved aside and land on my butt.

    I watch from further how they take off a bandage completely covered in blood (I didn't notice it was there) and take out a needle and string. Once the old bandage is gone I clearly see a deep hole in the side of his stomach, probably the cause of all the bleeding. "More dope!" a doctor yells and a different medic runs in with a needle and squirts it into the rest of the supplies that drug Ben. This repeats more times and he might as well be a junkie.

    I'm teary-eyed there on the floor, watching the procedure of them sewing Ben's gut closed. It's so painful and I'm not the one pricked by a needle. Every time Ben jerks someone will yell, "Hold him down!" or "More dope!"

    By the time it's over the whole bed is red and drops of scarlet are even on the floor. The medics do their best to clean it up and when they're done they undress Ben (I look away for obvious reasons), change his sheets and lay him back down with new bandages. One even leaves a plastic chair for me next to him.

    I take his hand in mine again and rest it near my heart, wishing I could take some of Ben's pain and in return loan him my strength.