Maybe there was a little blip of a heartbeat, or maybe it was her imagination. Leah could’ve sworn she heard the heart monitor beep. The heart monitor for a patient who was supposed to have passed away an hour ago. *It was just something from down the hall,* she thought to herself. She slowly approached the patient. The rustling of her booties shifted on the floor, and cut through the silence like a blade. Leah’s heart was pounding rapidly, hopefully contrasting with the old woman in front of her. The old woman was ninety-five years old and had recently caught the flu. Leah felt terrible for her, due to the fact that the old woman’s closest family lived a state over. They were all on their way to visit their relative, but the trip was too long, and the sickness was too brutal. As Leah got closer to the old woman, she saw the clipboard detailing the patient’s information hanging on the end of the bed. She picked up the clipboard and looked at the name at the top of the page. “Ruth Baker” was listed along with her other information. Leah took a long look at Ruth that seemed to last an eternity. She was paranoid and looking for any slight intake of breath or a twitch of a finger. Thinking about that simple little blip made Leah shiver.

Leah was a firm believer in ghosts, so telling herself that ghosts weren’t real wasn’t going to help one bit. She stared at the screen of the heart monitor, and it defiantly displayed a zero. It was almost as if it was mocking her: “I’m not crazy, you are.” Suddenly, she felt a cold chill, and she flinched and tensed up. *This is it, I’m dead.* Yet seemingly, nothing happened to her. Nothing touched her or spoke to her, and nothing even moved in the room. Leah opened one of her eyes to notice the wide-open window that must have let in the breeze. She rolled her eyes to an imaginary audience. Walking towards the window to close it caused her to walk past Ruth. Leah’s back was now facing Ruth, and this once again caused more paranoia to seep through her skin like water into a sponge. *She can’t get up. She passed away. Snap out of it Leah.* She closed the window gently without making as much as her own little blip.

Leah braced herself to turn around, and she tightened up her shoulders once more. She slowly turned in a half-circle motion, looking like a penguin waddling with an egg between its feet. As she turned, there was a figure standing in the doorway. The figure was all black and painted with the shadows of the dark hospital room. Leah made a scared squeak like a frightened dog, and closed her eyes again.

“Are you okay, Leah?” The voice was warm and familiar. Leah opened her eyes and realized the figure was her work friend Josh. Her body relaxed.

“Oh… Uh, yeah. It’s just, really chilly in here!” Leah squeezed her arms and shoulders up to her body once again and hugged her own body to demonstrate the cold.

“Alright. Make sure you get out of here in one piece. Night shifts are the worst.” Josh smiled and waved goodbye as he walked away. Josh’s always unusually quiet footsteps headed down the hallway. Leah let out a long sigh when she could no longer hear Josh walking. She looked back over at Ruth and confirmed she was still lying in the bed. As she made her way towards Ruth once more, Leah felt more at ease than she had the last time. Leah bent over and unplugged the hospital bed and the heart monitor. There was a plastic wrapper from a cookie that had fallen behind the bed, so she picked it up and crumpled it into her fist. When she stood up, her wrist turned cold. Leah slowly turned her head like a creaking door. Ruth was awake, her eyes were reflecting as a cat’s would in the dark. Her pale, thin, and bony fingers were firmly clutched to Leah’s wrist. She regretted taking the night shift as Ruth raspily said:

“Help. Me.”