The sound of a family talking on the other side of a curtain brought me back to the land of living debt. I woke up in a bed in a shared hospital room. A nurse explained everything to me. The ambulance arrived as i passed out. Both the older woman and myself rode to the hospital. I revived a few stitches, but throw in the “luxury” ride here and an overnight stay; we can add medical bills to the pile of ever-growing debt.

It took me a moment to muster up the voice to ask about the woman from the accident. She is staying a few doors down the same hall.

Her name is Margret.

I stood in her door frame as she watched TV. My mind was filled with questions. What happened? Why were you alone? What do you do for a living? You would ask too if you saw her car. It was NICE.

Margret

You can ask to come in.

Ryel

Can I come in?

She nods. I look over at the TV to see her watching a Hospital Drama. I stand a bit away. Does she know I was the one who saved her? Dear god, what if she thinks I'm a stranger who creeps on old women? What if she thinks I'm her long lost-

Margret

Is it weird?

RYE

Not weird, but…exhesive?

She giggles a bit. I look up now, able to escape the storm in my mind. Her smile seems to stray from her; the corners of her lips curl twice as she smiles. Her eyes aren't fully open, like those of a toddler fighting sleep.

I look up at the TV as I speak.

RYE

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Like looking up reviews of a restaurant you are already eating at.

Shut up, dude, that was rude. Yet she chuckles.

MARGRET

I have a favorite kind of show.

RYE

What are you watching after this? Dash Cam footage?

SHUT UP, RYE! Why did you even say that? Yet here she is, laughing.

MARGRET

I want to slap you.

She lets that slip in between laughs. She nods toward the chair near the bed. That chair would be my go-to spot for the following week. The table side meant for flowers, get-well cards, and balloons would stay empty, except for the occasional take-out I would bring after I was discharged. Typically, whatever she was craving that day.

She has no family. I mean, she had one, but her only son passed away, as did their partner. She grew up an only child, so she said she was used to a lonely life that was filled with people at one point but returned to force agonized seclusion.

She has gentle eyes and a loud laugh. A determined mind that has led to an unshakable work ethic. She told me she franchises restaurants and makes a killing on them. One of them was opening up on my block.

Her week-long stay turned into three. My days became work, at-home sword training, and visiting Margret. I just said, “At-home sword training. " My god. I failed another trial run. I reached the same spot as last time, but that's about it.

I tried to hide my aches from Margret, but with her poking and peeling back my words, she knew I was hurting. I didn't tell her about the trial as that might lead to a series of questions I am ill-equipped to answer.

I made progress on the second run after the accident. I was able to kill two of the Skelington gorillas. The third had no trouble taking me out.

I am getting stronger, but the steady training at home is grueling. I barely get sleep, as work has been harsh, and I have to take any project willing to give me a shot. They are consistently underpaying me, but I don’t have a choice. My bills are piling up, and every time I visit Margret.

The day she was discharged, I went to help her get home. She didn’t have a car to drive back. I ignored the nurses' desk, afraid they would hound me about my bill. A nurse nurse caught my arm with a large grin. She informed me my bill was covered.

I almost cried right there, but I held it together. To be fair, I was too shocked to call, as I only sent two payments- the minimum, of course. I ask who paid, but I figure it out before the nurse can tell me who. I see Margret in a wheelchair, waiting to leave. She can walk out of here fine but loves being pushed around.

On the drive back to her place, she looked at me and said she needed help running her business. She went on about how I live close to her new establishment, how I have managed a team thanks to my day job, and how she likes my personality. All of this led to her wanting me to be the head manager of her newest franchise.

I can feel the sword's weight in my fanny pack wrapped around my waist. That day, she handed me over her newest franchise, White Castle.