I live for her

Chapter 13: Missed Call

Emily 🌹 

The sound of Mrs Knight's voice derailed my train tracks and I was thrusted off my train of thought. She wore a smile when the fresh startle on my face evaporated. "You're thinking of him, aren't you?" 

I did that thing that my body reflexively did when embarrassed blood cells gushed to my head: I let gravity pull down my head so my eyes could be saved from the stare of that wrinkled mind reader.

She walks to me with the fastest pace her aged limbs could provide. She holds my chin and negates gravity's force on my head. 

She looks me in my eye, with the warmest smile I've ever seen in a while. It's the kind of smile that just snatches all your anxious thoughts with a concerned set of curved lips."You're a beautiful, young lady, I'm sure he'll come back". 

Even though I could smell the obligation in her speech to console me... My cells still drained themselves of the stress hormones in my system. I didn't say a word back - but she didn't pester me to do so. She just grabbed my hand and said, "Come, your tea's ready." I look back at the mirror as she dragged me away, my reflection reassured her words. The face in the mirror whispered, "You're the kind of beautiful that just needs to learn to worry less and give Impatience rest" 

***

I held the cup gently in my hands and sipped the tea while my nostrils soaked up its sweet aroma. She went on about her husband, about how much she loved him. She talked about the days during the war and how he'd sent her such sweet letters back home and all the emotions that abused her cells that moment she saw him in his worn out soldier clothes. 

"And I grabbed him, child, grabbed him so tight in my arms and whispered 'Don't let go'... Gosh his clothes were stinking but - I just missed him that much. You should have seen and heard him, he cried." 

It's really funny how sitting on a rocking chair on an old lady's porch really helps you to forget the pains in your chest. Mrs Knight really did have a beautiful garden, it was certainly a marvel of a sight. She was very talkative, but she had that kind of voice that never got boring to hear. She kept on talking about her husband and all the sweet undead memories Frank Sinatra's songs concealed in their soundwaves and lyrics. It was only when the cold of the Autumn breeze chilled my cheeks that I saw the moon try to make its presence known and then I remembered that my phone was on silent - my mum is probably worried sick about my whereabouts. I wonder if Leroy... knows I'm here. 

Leroy ♞ 

When my muscles assured me that they were out of Fatigue's clutches, I stood up and approached the lady at the counter. Fatigue was gone but Fear and Anxiety weren't. I held my back upright to mask the worries swimming in my thinking seas. She smiled. It was the worst thing she could do. I know she's meant to be friendly, but that smile just enraged my neurons. It was like she was saying, "Wow, I'm glad you're here." but at the same time also saying, "You know, your mum is gonna die soon, so it's a good thing you get to see her before that time comes.". That's something I don't understand: death. Why didn't it come for me when I pleaded. Why didn't the Grim Reaper have the heart to take away the soul of a boy who'd done enough living and breathing. Instead, it goes for the mother, the mother who was finally finding redemption, finally with someone who would take care of her after losing someone she thought she'd be buried next to. The only time the boy ever felt like he was living and breathing was when his mother was near. When her eyes held sympathies that warmed his soul. When her voice uttered scoldings that didn't feel like verbal abuse... It felt like love - love that wanted to see me grow into someone to be proud of. She certainly didn't want any of this for me. If only she knew she was hurting me. If only I didn't know that I was hurting her by avoiding this place. Hospitals reek of death. I wonder how many people who were going to die that she's flashed that same smile at.  

"Hi, how may I help you?"

"Mrs Ruth Williams," I said staring at the black pen on the counter top. 

She typed a few letters and clicked the mouse, then moved her eyes towards me. She put on a frown. "Sorry, we don't have a Ruth Williams."

I proceeded to exit the hospital and brought out my phone to dial up my mum's new love - then it dawned upon me that my mum was divorced.

I walked up to the lady in white and she gave me that same smile. "You got the right name?"

"Yeah, it's Ruth Jackson." 

She commenced the keyboard-typing and mouse-clicking ritual then I saw her blue eyes glint as she turned away from the computer's screen. "Number 24, third room on your right on the fourth floor."

I turned around and took in one deep breath and exhaled it. I braced my limbs for the short journey to the elevator. I heard the lady utter something as I neared the rectangular prism,"Her operation is tomorrow.". The words stay in my mind as I reach for the number 4 on the elevator's keypad and wait for the prism to release me from this prison. 

The elevator dings and the two imprisoning doors part. The smell of death is richer here... My fear of death... is richer... here.(The psycho in me wished it was rich enough to behead me so that a smile of relief lines my face as my head rolls on this elevator floor with walls bearing dashes of a poet boy's blood: Death means no responsibility, no emotions, no complications - Freedom.).

I walk up and down the fourth floor's corridors at least three times. Each time I passed room 24 my heart felt funny and uncomfortable. I kept moving past and tried to get my thoughts straight. Tried to give myself a reason to touch the knob. I walk into the bathroom and splash water on my face. I stare at my tired and anxious eyes. I make a defeated retreat back down to the first floor and sit down on the metallic chair. I find myself dialing Emily - she doesn't pick. 

A/N: To the lovely people who read this: thank you very much.

So do you think Leroy will grow the courage to visit his mum... Or is he just gonna chicken out because Emily isn't there to hold his hand?

And this psycho thing... It's getting scary.

🚉 thanks for stopping by, and tell me do you like getting Emily's perspective?

Choo-Choo! (As always) and enjoy your day or night or afternoon 😘