"Reckless Disaster"

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I knew my stay at the hospital had been too long when too many staff members came to tell me goodbye. John thought I had a sense of humour and cleaning my room was the highlight of his day. Entertaining other people was a skill. At a very young age, I learned how to make other people comfortable with being around me. When they found out about my heart condition, their demeanour changed from joy to pity. I hated it. So, I learned how to make them comfortable in their discomfort.

Edward walked in on me stuffing my hands into a jacket. "We can leave now."

My hands shook as I struggled to zip up the coat that he brought for me among a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It was a green puffy parka coat with faux fur trim around the hood. Outside was an unexpected gift of rain. The wet season didn't generally start for another fortnight, but it poured. The drops were bigger than prairie hailstones and coming down as hard.

Staying at the hospital had been a good distraction. Now, forced to go to the real world, I was scared. I took in deep, ragged breaths before shaking my hands and trying to zip up the jacket again. My hands trembled. It frustrated me that I couldn't even do the smallest of things without help. It was because of the anaesthesia Doctor Singh gave me. All it did was make me feel numb. Morphine, aspirin, Novocain. He assured me that once they wore off, the shaking hands and the drowsiness would wear off too.

"Are you ready?" Edward asked again.

"I need a minute."

I wanted so much to stop stressing about my next step, but I couldn't. My brain was a violent whirl of worry, trying to organize the chaos in my life. The stress of that spread through my mind like ink on paper.

Edward pulled me to face him. I tried to ignore the jittery feeling that took over my body. I could feel the heat emanating from his body. He grabbed the ends of the jacket and zipped it up in a second.

"Thank you."

"Are you okay?"

I wasn't okay. My mind regurgitated the worries of the day, of tomorrow, of the day after tomorrow. Yet I had no new or brilliant solutions to offer. The only option I had to move in with him. It would take a lot of the weight on my shoulder, but I was so sick and tired of depending on everyone else.

"I'm going to be fine. I need to get home and get out of my head."

"My offer still stands," he said. "You can move in with me and I can help you."

We had this conversation for the past week. My pride wouldn't let me. He was a magnetic mystery. I liked him that way. Being in the dark offered me the option of forever remembering him as the Saint that saved my life.

"I'll be okay on my own."

His brows drew together while he stuffed his hands into the grey pants. He bit down his words for my sake and I was grateful.

"Let's go. Thank you for taking me home."

Rain hammered on the hood of his Mercedes G Wagon. The road ahead wound and swirled like a coil and the music on the radio tuned out like white noise. I sat awake on the passenger seat and stared at the window. Outside, the towering buildings, the calm suburban neighbourhoods and the glass shop all sat with me in silence. I closed my eyes and imagined a different life. Time, an ever-flickering flame makes you wonder where you stand. If there was any other way around to control it, mend it, change it so that it won't rebound.

I lived in Kikuyu. Though my neighbourhood was rebuilt with new, promising flats, there remained derelict buildings. Next to the fancy architecture, these derelicts almost looked like they were beamed in from an old-fashioned horror movie. A dilapidated mess but affordable, especially in an estate that wasn't so shabby.

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