MISC «morose! morose! morose!»

XXII.

               

                 Those who dissected brain discovered if you remove a part of it, cognition can be altered; Memory can get wiped off, identity misplaced, retrograde amnesia... And a lot many things can occur.

                But Kaisei Seon, the morning after, felt no part of the insides missing.

                 He spotted his girlfriend, a copy of The Secret Society next to her delicate hand, which would explain she might have been reading it to him. Or, she got bored.

                The sanitized air filled his nasal system as he processed the head injury, of what seemed like a lot of bandages to count. His hair had to be cut; Kai realized that only a moment later, while trying to move and wincing with pain — feeling light, no itchy morning mess, not that the absence of natural light was of any indication of the part of the day.

                 His hair were gone.  Not a lot of boys had such amazing, silken locks, long enough to reach their hips. Perhaps it was no good to reminisce the way he carried it during exam weeks — a bejeweled midnight braid, a memory Kai was now beginning to loathe.

           He had survived, but only parts of him. This hospital room would be his witness — he'd never be himself again.

                   The second time he woke up, Kai squinted — not being able to see properly. The bed seemed to have been restricting his movements as well, for Kai could only grunt as the voices filled the void, the people zoomed. "My son!" Said a voice laced with concern. "Dad?" It couldn't be his mom, unless he's in heav—

                 "Here you go," a rectangular pair of glasses and the speaker was different, English, without the Asian accent, well never mind. "Brah, you scared us there for a sec," Westerly bemused.

               Kai puts on the glasses.  

                Eleanor kept her safe distance. Normani, perhaps not unable to keep herself out of his limited headspace, was seen peeking in, a charcoal frock haze and round sad eyes and pals against the glass, she could have just came.

                    He appreciated her being there. Flashed her a reassuring smile, for his hand felt like somebody had put rocks in his glove (not that he wore anything other than the hospital gown, for the matter). "What has happened to you," the father grieved.

               In his gaze, Kai panicked on seeing the ancient fear; the same he had when he was holding onto Mrs Seon knowing he wasn't prepared for her eternal sleep. "I feel fine," Kai said with bored inflection. "Where's the doctor, father?"

                Upon the doctor's arrival, Kai immediately asked to be left alone. He wanted details of the last night's happenings. Impatience was weighing him down as he was passed a mirror and he couldn't quite place a finger on whose reflection he was supposed to see, while his limbs were immobile, million traces of bruises flashed the side of neck and with short hair, Kai felt uglier. "The police are outside," informed the pink nurse.

               "Spare him a few hours, the patient isn't ready."

                "Yes, doctor"

             What do they want? Kai wished he was interested in knowing. In some ways, especially when healing, Kai didn't give a fuck about anybody else.

              And now he sees : Wes has his body in tact, Eleanor looked good with slight eye bags, Nora was well enough to get on her own and come by to see him—

               The trouble existed only with him. His breath hitched. "Doctor?"

               "Yes, sister Martinez?"

             "They are asking questions regarding a girl his age. Her name is Blythe Vernoff. Her father's here. He wants to speak with the patient—"

               "Afraid that's not possible."

              "I'm aware. But he says," the lady paused and just in time she caught Kai looking at her severely, "They say his daughter has been missing for 72 hours..."

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