Make It Count | ✓

08 - snowstorm

[ terrible things ]
mayday parade
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—eight—

snowstorm

"WHAT HAPPENED?" were the words that streamed from Ms Petunia's lips, as soon as she approached me. Gone was her usual cautious gait, turning her movements now into a more frenetic, hurried steps, and with a face that was far beyond the usual stern expression that I had always known it to be.

Nearing me, I could clearly see how anxious she was, and I was sure I was wearing the same look, too. Because the second I found Belle out cold on the ground minutes ago, my nervous system practically shut down then and there, though I managed to held my breath to get a good grasp of the situation.

I promptly then called for help and quickly, she was brought to the hospital for urgent medical assistance. And with this, I started to state what happened, "She just fell, I don't know, it's just—I found her with no consciousness already."

My voice was stuttering suchlike I was having a speech disorder, trying to bring out the right words to say. And then she began to heave a sob, as she pried to get a view from the emergency room. Her wrinkled hands shielded her mouth, giving me a sight of her veined, pasty arms as she murmured sacred things.

"W—Will she be okay?" I queried seconds later when she didn't say anything, and I must had been made of steel because no matter how worried I was, I managed to talk now with the calmest voice I could muster, and there was no knowing if I'd be able to keep up any longer. Nothing ever worried me like this before, save for the day that my Mom left where the aftermath was never pretty.

She turned her attention to me, rather surprised like she almost forgot I was there all along because, perhaps, Ms Petunia was more transfixed and worried at the state of things. It wasn't until I knitted my eyebrows in anticipation when a poignant look crossed her face. Before she could so much as utter a word...

"Belle Hastings' family?" a doctor called, effectively cutting her off. And for apparent reasons, I wasn't allowed to hear what he was about to say. I was on a tightrope then, walking in the hospital's hallway back and forth, pausing for a second haphazardly and would tap my shoe on the floor time and time again.

I was studying their expressions, their trading of words, until it ended with slumped shoulders. All she did was brushing her hand on her face, and already, I felt like there was a gray cloud looming overhead.

The moment the doctor left, I gathered Belle's grandmother in my arms as if to radiate my strength to her since she seemed hella' frustrated. At first, even initiating the gesture was quite awkward, but then my stiffness eventually evaporated because it felt like we needed each other at the moment.

In times of trouble and in a room that was completely engulfed with darkness, you'd hold on to any source of light; no matter how strong or weak the flame would be, so long as you find something to lessen your misgivings.

I had finally come to realize that this woman buried in my chest wasn't really cold, or distant; she was reserved, yes, but she was actually an affective person in a closer look. Capable of being vulnerable.

Though the fact that she was easily perturbed also made me keyed-up, which was fast arising as seconds ticked by. Try as I might, I didn't let that get to me; because overthinking never brought something good.

"What did he say?" I inquired, the same time I was in a middle of a mental bedlam that I was certain was becoming more obvious now.

There was a moment of silence.