As the silent shockwave that quaked through Johannes' universe slowly dispersed, walking started to feel good yet straining. He had to seek his own rhythm, but it seemed to work.
Slow but steady, Johannes' feet alternated their steps. The underdeveloped man sensed each muscle that was used. His heel was the first part of his leg to gradually close the gap between his foot and himself. Last but not least, the footbed and then his toes rolled into his pace.
A mixture of stressed wrinkles and the relaxed corner of his mouth betrayed the uncertainty in his step and mind. Being able to breathe or even stand was one thing. But now, he was able to walk. Johannes had the urge to use this.
It's really late. But honestly? I would love to go outside for once. I've been in this massive city for ages now but never had a chance to leave this damn hospital.I can't really describe the feeling. I mean… I noticed some limitations and that I won't be able to walk for long right now. But I have to try it.
Knowing he would not last long, he took as much time as needed to leave his room. However, he had to make sure that he remained unseen. If word got out that he was not only walking but sneaking outside in the dark, the worried nurses would scold him.
When was the last time I left my room besides to use the bathroom or visit the different kinds of cardiologists the hospital employed?
Step by step, Johannes got closer to the door that his father had once left for the last time. When his father stood under the oak-coloured wooden doorframe, it looked so small. His broad shoulders occupied the space between those two sides of the frame.
Now that Johannes stood at the same spot, his weak shoulders looked even more pitiful than usual. His hand slowly gripped the metal doorknob and pulled it down. This demanded way more strength than he initially estimated. With a silent groan, he opened the door as slowly as possible.
His white hair peeked out first. Then, he gradually leaned into the door to glance into the large hall that had connected all the rooms of his hospital ward. Johannes could recognize a few regular nurses; however, he did not see the one who had voiced her concerns earlier.
There had been 12 rooms, at least that is how many he could count. A few of those were staff-only. He looked at the white walls that had been ruined by woodchip wallpapers running through the whole corridor. The only saving grace seemed to be the floor that wore an
elegant white marble floor. This stood in stark contrast to Johannes' room - and the walls.
From the weak man's perspective, the few nurses he saw looked busy and did not seem to focus their attention on his room. This was precisely what he had hoped for. Once more, he shoved the large wooden door away from him and slipped out of his room.
This was the easiest part. Now, he had to escape without anyone noticing. That seemed impossible, considering that almost nobody would walk through the halls of a hospital at 12 AM.
Stay calm, Johannes. Look at the ground, walk outside and eventually sneak in once again.
He attempted to lay out a detailed plan of where to go until he remembered that, in fact, he knew nothing about the hospital's layout. Besides his room or occasional travels to the hospital's doctors, he could hardly navigate the concrete jungle.
Alright, new plan. Stay calm, look at the ground until you leave the ward and eventually ask someone for help.
However, that was easier said than done this late. With each step tiring him out even more, the strenuous day also took its toll on his body. Johannes barely amounted to leaving the ward and eventually opted for the maisonette balcony he had come across. It extended over two floors and also worked as a connection for those floors.
Johannes' steps had become slower. He felt like he was walking in slow motion compared to the beginning of his walk. His gaze had been glued to the ground the whole time he was wandering around. As his stare slowly elevated into the shining starlit night, an old man entered his field of view. He was standing at the edge of the balcony, his legs crossed as he leaned onto the railing.
"Hm. 'Sneaking out too, young man?" the man who had seen more than twice as many years as Johannes asked as he lit his cigarette. He did not wear a hospital gown. Instead, he sported comfortable-looking woolly pyjamas of black colour.
Wrinkles had formed all over his face as a token of his age. It was proof of the many years he seemed to have endured. His combination of white and dark hair slowly receded, and his slender eyes conveyed an unseen kindness. Johannes estimated the man to be roughly the same age as his late father.
Young man? Does he mean me?