Better Check on Mrs McFee
the hospital corridors were as quiet as death
until loud male-sounding footsteps slapped down the hallway
I peeked out, expecting to see a doctor
I saw no one; but the footsteps were coming
click click click click click click
they stopped right at my door
a chill went through me
I thought of Mr. Eisenhower
was he okay? should I go check?
too late for that, a ghastly voice whispered
directly into my left ear.
I knew what jumping with fright felt like now.
except I was frozen, I could not even scream.
an unknown entity followed me that night
to the nurse’s station, the water fountain,
the soda pop machine, I felt it was a ghoul
not a poltergeist, not a friendly entity
I fell asleep briefly while charting.
My head jerked up as I came back.
“Better check on Mrs. McFee,” the voice hissed.
I was terrified; paralyzed with fear.
Mr. Eisenhower was okay, but Mrs. McFee had vanished.
No one ever saw her again.
a ninety-three-year-old woman who could not walk.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2024
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