Happisad Memories

Chapter 7: Six Weeks

She was blinded by fire and barely had the chance to hear a faint voice say, "Hello, please stop lighting candles for," before the rocky hands threw her on the ground of the happisad memory realm. She was laying down, facing a light orangey ceiling, legs in the air. It was probably white but she was seeing it all through the orangey tone of the happisad memory realm. It smelled like a hospital around her. When she moved her head to the left, the pictures of babies on the wall quickly let her know where she was. She was at the OBGYN office.

"It is all healing properly," the doctor told her.

"I can't sit for more than a couple of hours at a desk. How is this healed?" she heard herself say.

"It takes more or less six to eight weeks to fully heal," the doctor explained.

Then, why was she only given six weeks to recover? She thought. Another one of these laws written by people who had no idea how any of these things worked out.

"Can I exercise?" the woman asked.

She had not been able to run or bike for what felt like forever. She knew that running would help.

"Yes, you can exercise and you can also have sexual intercourse again," the doctor replied.

She was prescribed a cream to numb the areas that still hurt and told to make sure it was all well lubricated.

"I don't think I am ready to go back to work," she told her doctor.

"I will write a note to your HR department to extend your leave by a couple of weeks," she was told.

And she was sent on her merry way. Who cared about her and her loss? This place was only for healthy babies and pregnant women, nobody cared about grieving parents, and nobody wanted to know about them. They were the awkward percentage that no one wanted to acknowledge. This was the psychologists' job to deal with them, not the OBGYN's office.

This realm was weird; it was as if she was discovering it for the first time. She did not remember going back to the OBGYN and being cleared for exercise. All she knew was that she was staying at home, refusing to get out and barely seeing anyone. These days she was spending most of her time lying down on the couch and playing video games. And she knew that she was not herself because she had no care in the world whether she lost or not, even though she would normally scream at the screen and throw the controller at it. How could she find herself out and about and six weeks down the road? As she was about to push the exit door of the OBGYN office, she froze. It was enough for the Nalhak's map to appear with a big red X on it. Its voice echoed in the building as if they were in an empty cave.

"The you must first relive and share happisad memories. Remembrance will come and make sense of it all."

Remembrance of what exactly, she did not know. The only thing she did know is that she had placed her trust in the winged creature and felt responsible for its fate. That was what was pushing her to continue this journey regardless of it all. She cared for the Nalhak and wanted to protect it. The Nalhak appeared on her right shoulder for a few seconds, kissed her on her right cheek, and disappeared again, as if to tell her that it cared for her as well. When she unfroze and pushed the door of the OBGYN office, she was brought to a gym center. It was not a random one; it was the one she had been using throughout her pregnancy, up to her eighth month, where she was only walking because she was so big. She had been on treadmills daily right before going to work. Everyone knew her there as "the pregnant lady who exercised." She was not sure what the big deal was but apparently, she was the only pregnant woman there. She swiped her membership card and went through the gate towards the locker room. Without her big belly, she would pass as normal, she thought. This looked like it was her first time back at the gym. It had been months; she was banking on not being recognized. She got on a treadmill and spent the next twenty minutes on it. It felt good. It felt like she was alive again. Her legs were sore but slowly remembering that they had carried her through marathons in the past. She was slightly light-headed from the adrenaline of her efforts and some of the painkiller meds being expelled from her body. It was a little cloud of self-awareness; she was getting to know her new body post-pregnancy. It felt like she could go on for an hour and maybe she would. At least she thought that way until her cloud was blown away by a bystander and she fell right back to reality.