Bourbon on the rocks

Page 8

To always be faced with the world and meet the day-to-day tasks is like lifting a building with your scrawny little self. It is an impossible task.

I feel my days passing me by quicker than my mind can catch up. Yet, my mind races quicker than my body does, and my body only lays there numb and broken. It was a miracle they saved me from that fall. I did not understand what had happened before I woke up seeing my legs before I hung up in the air while my arms were supported by these swings almost. I could not move. The only thing I could feel was the humidness and itchiness of the casts covering my body like I was a real-life mummy.

The sun rays have disappeared, and all I can think of is how Mustafa will probably soon find out that I am not his son after running blood tests to see if I inherited ADHD or something because of my behavior. I do not know what to tell him. Obviously, I love him. He has not done me anything wrong other than being a good dad, but I hate him and Leila deep down even though I do not hate him nearly as much as I hate her. 

Frankly, I am happy she fucking died. After what type of person she was against us, I do not know if such a person deserves a chance by God or whatever to live. It annoys me and pains me that she swore me to secrecy as a child, or else she would continue whipping me on my back as she stood there drinking her fucking bourbon on the rocks in the beach house while Mustafa was busy writing in the main house. He had no clue what was going down here.

I do not hate him or blame him for what she inflicted on me, yet there is this itch inside me telling me to choke him with a pillow while there is a chance. However, how can I? By the state of my body? It is like a mosquito bite there I can not get rid of, I try to wash it away, I try to get rid of myself subconsciously as it seems from my current armor. However, I ponder, will he survive the truth?

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I laid in the hospital bed doing my best to scoop out the purple jello from the jello cup as Dr. Williams walked in. She smiled faintly as she looked over at my pathetic state.

-How are we doing today?

-Good, good. How are you doing?

-I am doing fine too, Mr. Abyed. There is something I must speak to you about - suddenly thunderstruck and water poured outside like a well that had flooded over - gosh, I should probably close the window if we are to speak.

With a loud thud, the large body-sized window was closed. She brought forth a blue-wooden cushion chair with armrests and smiled as she sat to my left.

-Sir, we ran some blood tests to see if your son perhaps had an illness inherited by you, and we were surprised by the results we got.

I let go of my jello cup and pushed my food tray away, and shifted my eyes towards hers as I gulped the shivering purple animal collagen coated with sugar.

-To our surprise, he had nothing to do with you. Ironically that goes both ways. He is not your biological son. Do you know that, sir?

My ears began ringing. There was this peep that would not leave. I sat there watching her. My mouth was closed, and my tongue between my teeth. I withheld all my anger and feelings from spewing out on this poor doctor. Feeling blood wash inside my mouth as I smiled and nodded.

She smiled back and replied,

-Well then, from what we have concluded, Danial is clinically depressed and has suicidal tendencies he is not aware of. Therefore, we must keep him here until we can transfer him to the psych ward.