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Page 3

I motioned in panic towards the hospital premise and inquired the nurse on duty at the information desk. “Where can I find Mrs. Sharon Hernandez? She just got admitted this afternoon,” I anxiously asked. The nurse is looking as much nervous as I already am. “Room 315, Ma’am,” she quickly scanned through her computer. I swiftly strode away as if I could no longer feel my feet landing on the floor anymore. ‘One wrong step and you’d definitely slip your entire life away, Scarlet,’ I told myself. Elevator is a good option but I couldn’t wait for it to drop to the ground floor so I hopped for the stairs.

I hate hospitals. Not only I could picture out their nearly haunted facilities, but also the people who spend days or months in places like this. I could imagine someone from behind the closed door of each room, whispering against the walls and the ceiling that share both solitude and clamor with him or her. I could also see these people who stand hand in hand outside the emergency rooms, waiting and shaking in worry of what could seem uncertain once the door has fled opened. This is why I hate and love to become a nurse someday, to have the ability to become a witness of people’s last seconds on earth but is blameless of the incapacity to save.

I thought of how life is definitely short, until I remembered my Mom. Why is she even here? I was having a great time with Red when Dad phoned me to tell that Mom lost consciousness in the house of Lees. He didn’t tell me why because I didn’t ask. All I had in mind is I've got to get beside her as soon as I can. He just told me what hospital and what time. I started walking in slow rhythm while skimming through the room numbers of the 3rd floor. I could feel no breeze, but it’s wonderingly cold that my body hairs are starting to lift from my skin. And there it is. 315. I could feel blobs of tears forming in both of my eyes and I immediately extinguished them before they could have the opportunity to show up. I don't intend to overreact but I'm extremely nervous knowing that this is the first time where Mom needs a medical attention to the point of consulting a hospital. I made up myself and finally twisted the knob of the door.

Everyone’s a bit surprised as I emerged into the room.

All eyes suddenly focused on me as if they just got caught of doing a crime inside the room. 315 is well-ventilated but I can't find any wisp of air to breathe. I wasn't told of what Mom's condition could possibly be but I have this whole ton of idea that it must be something serious as how I see through these people's way of staring. Mr. and Mrs. Lee, together with their daughter Ashley, are here. A brief reverie of my childhood struck me as I saw a glimpse of their faces once more after a long while of not being able to. I and Ashley must have stopped being playmates and good friends, but that didn't hamper the Lee's nurturing connection with our family. They are good people and to me, they always will be.

"What happened?" I blurted while rushing to Mom's reclining bed as if I'm not asking anyone at all.

Dad explained everything while giving the Lees quick glances every after each sentence like a boy asking for confirmation from his parents. The incident happened while Mrs. Lee and Mom were busy experimenting and innovating a certain Italian dish. They kind of always do that to serve us different varieties of food on the table every week. Mom was working on the dough when Mrs. Lee heard a gag which she soon found to be the rolling pin that hit the floor. Sooner she saw the fallen body of my mother and yelped for rescue.

"So..? What could be it?" I interrogated.

"She has... cancer," Dad lowly announced like a coach proclaiming the loss of his team.

I couldn't move farther enough to brush my skin against Mom's. All of a sudden, I felt as if I'm no longer a substance of the room. Far. Weak. Lost. This is obviously a loss by a certain degree. Like someone took away a piece of me without any ado nor formal permission. Like I already lost a battle even before it starts. All of a sudden, I looked at my Mom as if she's someone I've never come across even along those walks on streets in a hot afternoon. Has she been hiding this suffering or is she surprised as much we are right now, I don't know. All I have in mind is how I'm going to respond to this because at this very moment, my stimulus has been failing me for couple of minutes.