Running Solo

Chapter 10 - Goodbyes

~Faihato's Perspective~

I sat, rocking back and forth on the couch. My hands gripped my legs tightly as my knees dug into my chest. I couldn't breathe. My chest was too tight and I couldn't get enough air into my lungs. My ears were ringing loudly in the silence of the empty house. I couldn't see the house around me though. I stared unseeing at the coffee table in front of me as images flashed in my mind, threatening to drown me.

My father looked horrified. What had happened to mom? Why wouldn't anyone tell me what had happened. They always told me. Yeah we were at the hospital, but she would be okay, right?  Of course it had to be bad because the hospital had called us instead of her, which is what she usually did when she landed herself in the hospital, but she was an underground hero. She got hurt all of the time. She would disappear for days at a time. It was just part of the job. This is all completely normal. I thought to myself.

Soon, a doctor came out of my mother's emergency room. The door didn't shut very fast and I managed to catch a glimpse of my mother. For most people, a glimpse wouldn't have been enough, but my mother had taught me how to quickly analyze and take stock of  situations. She had wanted me to be prepared because it was dangerous having not one, but two pro-heroes for parents. I had never minded. I enjoyed my lessons with my mom. She always pushed me to be the best. She had always encouraged me to pursue my dreams, and I had. I had been training to become like her. While I was grateful for my mother's training, at that moment I almost wished I hadn't seen anything at all.

My mother looked like a shell of herself. Her long brown hair, which was normally in a ponytail or messy braid, surrounded her head in matted clamps. It was greasy and dirty and looked rather lifeless. Her legs had been covered by a light blue hospital blanket that was pulled up to the middle of her stomach. Her arms had been lying by her sides on top of the blanket. Her left arm, the one closest to the door, was bruised all over and there were several burn marks. There were even a couple small scratches and cuts. Her right arm was even worse. There were less bruises, but more burns. A couple of the burns even looked like brands. There were also cuts covering her arms, a few of which had been stitched up. The worst of it was that, her right hand was gone. In it's place was a bandaged stump. Blood was already peeking through and staining the white bandages. I couldn't see her chest because of the hospital gown, but I could see the way that it laid loosely on her too skinny shoulders and torso.

Then there was her face. Her eyes were closed, but there were dark, black bags under her eyes. Her eyes seemed to sink slightly into her face. Her skin was deathly pale and was pulled tightly against her cheek bones. Her lips were slightly blue and really chapped, even bleeding in some places. There had been doctors and nurses rushing around the room, checking monitors and wrapping my mother's fragile arms. There were so many wires and IVs attached to my mother, and it was safe to assume that they were what was keeping my mother alive. I felt nauseous and weak. I wanted to fall to the ground and sob, but I felt frozen. I couldn't move.

"-may not make it through the night. I'm very sorry, sir." the doctor said quietly. I looked at them and saw my father nod stiffly. There was no expression on his face.

"Can we see her?" my father asked quietly. The doctor glanced at me, looking hesitantly before nodding to my father. "Thank you." my father said, bowing stiffly. The doctor bowed hesitantly. Then they both straightened.

"Of course." the doctor said softly.

The doctor bowed quickly to me as I stood there stiffly. I give him a stiff bow as he walked past me and opened the door again. My father came and stood beside me as the doctor ordered everyone out of the room. They all quickly wrapped up what they were doing and left the room. Many of them gave me and my father pitying glances as they walked past us. I ignored them and walked hesitantly into the room once everyone else was out. My father followed close behind me. We both looked back at the doctor holding the door. He gave us a sympathetic look before closing the door.