Point A

Chapter 6

Isn't assuming fate is the driver of our lives a fine way of putting responsibility where it doesn't belong?

-V.C Andrews (the late💔)

* * *

Having agreed that too much had happened in a day, we decided to postpone our flight and travel the next day. Instead, we sat cross legged in a small triangle in our motel room, our knees in contact and hardly able to contain our excitement at the Indian food laid out before us. I said grace, before tucking into my meal, grateful Coyer had decided to put his love for pizza aside for my sake.

"I still think we should have gone for pizza," Coyer mumbled through his full mouth, before digging his oily hands back into his noodle dish and sticking his hand back into his mouth. Morgan threw him a disgusted look and he simply shrugged, frowning slightly,
"I don't know how to use chopsticks."

"Well why didn't you ask for a fork then? You look worse than a three year old without a feeding bib," Morgan retorted, before skillfully picking up more grains of rice with her chopshicks and placing them into her mouth. She had a certain elegance in everything she did. She sat across me with her legs tucked in below her and her back straightened and erect. A clean serviette was laying neatly on her lap along with her rice box. I watched as she guided her sticks into her mouth with her free hand underneath them, prepared to catch any loose grains. Steadily, she ate, in an orderly and patterned way.

I averted my gaze and stared down at my own noodles, before picking up more with my chopsticks and placing them in my mouth. Groaning with appreciation, I enjoyed the taste and closed my eyes as I chewed slowly. I heard Morgan chuckle and I shoved her good naturedly, before wiping my mouth and closing my deli's box.

"It's good isn't it? My dad and I used to go there all the time on Sunday evenings. Their noodles are my favourite," Morgan commented, before closing her own box.

"But you ordered the rice?" I frowned as I picked up both Coyer and Morgan's boxes before standing to look for a bin.

"Yeah, it was my dad's favourite. Every single time he would order the spicy rice and diced tomato soup. And everytime I asked him why, he'd say "for a little normalcy in my life". I never understood it until now," she replied, now yawning and bringing her hand to her mouth.

I wanted to say sorry, to hug her and tell her after a while she wouldn't miss him so much. That she didn't have to take up his habits to remember him, to keep his memory alive. That he'd always be in her heart. But I couldn't. Not when I needed that reassurance too. And so my silence prevailed.

Clearing his throat, Coyer got up and took the boxes from my hands, "I'll get rid of them. You girls tuck yourselves in and leave my blankets in the corner, don't wait up for me." And with that, he walked out of the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

Silence blanketed the room before Morgan bounced up and patted my back, "Come on, let's get some sleep. He's probably going to meet up with some friends."

Meet up with some friends, what a normal thing to do I thought. It hadn't occurred to me that despite everything that was still happening, we were still living in a normal world with normal people.
Acceptance is the first key, I remember thinking. Maybe if I accepted who or what I was, I could get my old life back. Maybe I could live a normal life once I understood all of this. Tucking myslef in beside Morgan in the bed and making sure to leave Coyer's blankets in his corner, I went to sleep with that thought. But secretly, I knew it wasn't feasible. My life was going to transform, and I just had to be ready.

3 hours later

I turned for what felt like the fifteenth time in bed before I gave up and finally sat up, letting insomnia win. For the past 3 hours I hadn't even managed to get a handful of sleep. I felt restless, and my mind kept wandering and conjuring up alternative endings for my life now that it was in danger. Who was in Japan? Could they give us the answers we wanted? And what abilities would I have?
I ran the back of my hand over my sweaty forehead and stretched my arms over my head, before stopping mid-stretch at the sound of a loud groan.
I turned to look at Morgan, whose breaths were steady as she slept soundly with her hands below her head, beside me. Her forehead was slightly creased as she displayed a tiny frown on her face. Not wanting to think of what she could be dreaming of, I turned away and got out of bed, now fully awake.

The groan came again, strained, loud and seemingly pain oriented.

It was coming from the bathroom.

I walked towards the bathroom door slowly in the dark, wondering if I was in a very realistic horror movie and about to walk right into my death. Taking small shallow breaths, I placed one hand on my chest and the other on the door and pushed it, intending to get it only slightly open.

The hinges made a weak straining sound as the door disobeyed and opened fully, to reveal a bleeding and panting Coyer crouched on the bathroom mat.

"C-coyer? Wha...are you bleeding?" I whispered as I stood frozen at the door.

Coyer didn't even turn to me or acknowledge my presence. Instead he got up slowly, steadying himself with the bath tub. That's when I noticed his lack of clothing, and watched his back muscles tense, moving almost artistically as he moved up. His shirt was clutched in his hands, bloody and completely discoloured. He didn't look at me but instead kept his eyes pinched shut as he brought the shirt to his forehead and wiped harshly at the gash on it. His face contorted with pain as he roughly rubbed at the blood, as if to try and wipe it away.

"COYER WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" I shouted, as I ran towards him and grabbed the shirt away from him.

"Ugh it won't stop bleeding," he replied frustratedly as he sighed and ran his hands through his hair before sitting down on the edge of the tub.

"Well what have you done to stop the bleeding?" I asked as I walked past him to the sink to rinse the shirt out. The metallic smell of blood sat thickly in the room and I crinkled my nose, feeling slightly light headed.

"I've tried to wipe it, dab at it, press it, but the cut keeps bleeding," he replied.

"You can't just wipe a wound until it stops bleeding," I scoffed, and turned towards him to look at the gash on his head. Cautiously, I walked towards him and gently placed one hand below his chin to turn his head upwards and examined the cut. It was a nasty cut, seeping blood ceaselessly, but it was pretty shallow. It looked like a glass bottle cut

I sighed, "Coyer how did this happen?"

I felt him shrug as I continued to examine the cut. Surprisingly he sat completely still and let me look at it, as he tried to control his breathing.

"It looks like a glass bottle cut, you need to see a doctor. That could be infected," I diagnosed, frowning slightly.

This time he turned away, "No, I just need to get it to stop bleeding."

He began to stand up and pull away when I pushed him back down to sit on the tub. "Okay okay, no doctor. But it still needs to be cleaned," I said calmly.

With that I told him to stay there and walked on out of the bathroom to look through some of Morgan's stuff for a first aid kit. As expected, it was there neatly stashed at the bottom of the already packed suitcase. Everything about Morgan screamed prepared. I grabbed the kit and my phone from the bed stand before going back into the bathroom.

Subconsciously I took a couple of shallow breaths before I pushed the door open to find Coyer sitting complacently on the bath tub, his eyes transfixed on his phone as he scrolled through what looked like his gallery. This was gonna be a long night.