Uncertain-A short Story

Uncertain

Ron enters the hallway with a sweaty pale face, limping and whispering words into the air. He moves forwards as if he is aware of the destination and the path. He takes a left turn at the end of the corridor and after measuring three or four yards he pushes open a room and enters it.

In the room, the doctor sits, flipping the magazine. Ron halts seeing him busy.

"Hey, Ron." Says the doctor grinning at him.

"Close the door behind." He adds, putting the magazine down.

"Sit." He adds pointing towards the long sofa lying attached to the wall next to the door.

"How are you, Ron? How is everything?"

Ron stares at him for a bit as if he was lost somewhere and then snaps out of the phase. "O yeah, I am, I am good. Doctor Thank you." Ron replies in his usual, soft, and careful voice.

"Well, that's very nice to hear. So, how did you plan to visit me? Is everything ok?"

"Oh, No. no. no...not everything is ok. I, I can't know if I am ok or not." Ron says looking away from him.

"What do you mean, by that Ron? would you explain?" the doctor asks him shifting his posture to a more attentive one.

"It's complicated, doctor. Like the other night. I read few pages from my new novel; I am currently reading. And then I turned off the lights at 9. And went to bed right away. But when I got up in the morning it felt like I didn't even go to bed." Ron responds twisting his thumb a bit with the grip of his right hand.

"Oh! Ron, It's very common for people when they are tired and they can't have enough rest. It feels like that. Everyone feels that way someday."

"It's no big deal," he adds.

Ron folds cuffs of his shirt, enough to reveal a deep cut of the knife in his right hand. "It's not. I told you. It's not normal. How could this happen then?" Ron enquires.

He tries to fix his hair in the right with his free hands but he fails as his black hair without oil can't help much. He looked more anxious now. The doctor now knows. "Are you taking your meds, Ron?"

"Yes, of course. I do. Three pills all white and soar. I hate ''em."

"Do you doubt? That I would avoid or forget them?" Ron adds.

"of course not. I asked to be sure. It's a regular question."

"Ok, I suppose, I must be going. I should go. It's lunchtime, Jerry must be waiting." Ron gets up and strides through the room. His shoulder strikes the wall but he won't stop to acknowledge it. He swifts through the corridor as if he is running from someone. Doctor Kalu follows him with eyes after a few seconds later, standing at the door of his office.

He seemed a bit disturbed. Are medicines not working? He was more unstable today. Is he getting some supplies? He then stands there for a few more moments trying to contemplate what's wrong with Ron. He then tells the nurse at the counter left to him to bring in Ron's file.

***

After reaching home, Ron pushes the key and enters. Everything inside appears silent as if no one has ever visited or lived this place in the last decades. The room was filled with silence and even after he has turned on the lights. It feels eery.

In the evening after two hours of rest. He opens the fridge to eat something. He hears some sound in the next room. He halts and takes out an apple and walks towards the room. As he enters he sees jerry sitting on the couch and staring at the gaming screen.