He was passing through the corridors after a long couple of days at work. It is late in the night, all the patients' rooms are dark except for the few small green and red beepers of the machines. He is tired, he feels dirty, and he is certainly hungry.

As he passes by the NICU he stops. He thinks he heard a cry. He goes inside trying to locate the source of that cry. He checks the incubators, one by one, all the babies are asleep. He always hated the NICU, he even hates their medicine. He reaches the last of the incubators, and stops there.

Unlike all the neonates here, this one sure is different. He approaches the glass, and grabs the chart. A premature female born to 28 weeks of gestation. He checks the file again, checks the name on the chart and on the incubator, its the same. But he thinks its impossible. As he looks at her again, she does not look like a neonate at all. She does not have wrinkles, she is not grisping her hands, and she does not have that red-purple tinge that all newborns have, rather she looks like a 9 months old cute baby.

Suddenly, she opens her eyes. The most strange eyes of a neonate he had ever seen. They were big, round eyes. The background is so sharply white against a dark black pupil. He knows that at her age, she is not supposed to be able to see him. All what she can recognize now is blurry shapes with no outlines. But she keeps staring at him, and he feels absorbed into her eyes.

he puts his hands on the incubator glass as he stares back at her. He knows for sure that the cry he heard is hers, but he does not know why. He even finds himself asking: Was it you? but all what he gets is the same stare.

He checks the chart again. She has all the problems he can recall an immature newborn could have. The immature lungs, the retinal problems, and even though her skin does not show it, she has high level of Bilirubin. He checks the the reading of the devices around her, and everything seems to be OK.

He washes his hands, bring the sterilized stethoscope, and insert his hands through the special openings, and starts checking her pulse, her breathing sounds, and her abdomen. With his limited expertise in Neonatal medicine, he finds nothing to report. As he was pulling his hands out, she raises his hand. she does not touch him. She just raises it. He looks at her face, its the same expressionless face, with that cold puppet eyes. But now, he can hear a loud voice in his head;

"Run"...

He keeps looking, and the voice keeps resonating in his head;

"Run"...

With that, she closes her eyes, and returns the way she was. He pulls his hands out, checks the chart again, takes another look at her, puts the chart back and leaves the room.

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