Beast Moves

I decided I should go for a drink. I leave the room, walking past where Max is. Standing at the machine, I grab a drink. I begin walking back up. This time I stop outside his room.

“May I go in please?” I look at the police officers. They look at each other.

“I know him. I just want to know if he is okay.” Okay. I don’t care if he is okay, so why do I want to go in there? They glance at each other before nodding. Walking in, seeing what I can, it isn’t what I was expecting to see. Shock overtakes me. Jackson hadn’t told me the whole story.

Max is barely recognisable. His face is swollen, with cuts all over it. His leg is in a cast and there are bandages across his chest.

I begin to shake my head. Why do I feel sorry for him? Why do I care that he is hurting? I shouldn’t, after all he has done. I begin to walk towards him, his eyes following me. I wonder if he can see me because he never says anything; he just stays quiet.

Standing here by his bed, I look at him. He actually lo