Open Heart {Under Revision}

Chapter 17- Anamnesis

(Caution: Trigger and Trauma, graphic picturization) 

When you thought of sleeping tight till 4am after a bone numbing day, nothing was supposed to keep you from that much needed bed-tight bond.

And then you have my mother who never gave a damn about time zones.

My phone blasted Rita Ora and Iggy Azalea's 'Black Widow' so loud that I jumped awake, my heart rate spiking from normal to super-abnormal within seconds. My head spun from the vertigo before I blinked a couple of times and waded my hands absently to grab my phone and slide the accept button.

"Hello? Who the heck—"

"Charlotte. You never called me back." My mother's voice being forever chilly dumped a bucket of ice and tore me from that sleep.

I glanced at my table clock and replied, "Its 4am in morning! What's gotten you so cooked up to call me?!"

Then I bit my tongue. Oh shit. I shouldn't have talked that way to my mother who was perfect embodiment of discipline and obedience. She disliked it when I spoke in such uncouth manner and always reprimanded me so good that my ears and eyes bled for whole day along with my heart from ever dreaming about a mother who only gave her comfort when situation was dire aka deadly. She would no doubt match Dr. Ramsey's verbal legislature written down for interns without remorse.

"Why are you speaking in such discourteous manner?" she snapped, a shrill pitch rising in words. Meaning she was getting close to chide me real.

Blaming it on my sleep, I rubbed my eyes and dared not to articulate again in 'discourteous' manner, "Forgive me. I haven't received an acceptable slumber past this week. These days have been nothing but competitive."

I sound like Yoda who decided to become an English teacher.

"I know. One of my colleagues there informed me that the hospital reinstated their grant in form of a prize and position in Diagnostics Team?" her voice was so emended that if you ignored the underlying uppity bitchy accent, it could serve as a peaceful record. There was substantial amount of background noise as well like clatter of people moving and conversing which meant she wasn't at Atlanta. That city—my mother's office was one of the quietest rooms in the whole freaking world, giving Chernobyl a run for money. She wasn't at San Diego either because in many a creepier way, I felt lulled to recognize my home ground.

"You have heard correct." I alluded, knowing that yet another day without sleep was coming to bother me.

"And you know about it." She stated, more like angling a gun to shoot in my direction.

Before she could shoot, I informed quickly, "I do. I have taken part, I passed in qualification examination and they'll update next rankings day after tomorrow." I almost asked her how 'proud' she was about Edenbrook's acceptance, according to Dr. Sofia but smothered it. My mom would never be proud about me. She would have pity, but never the pride.

On the other end, my mother let few beats of silence to hang.

"I must allay you the purpose of my call." She said, "I want you to get tested again."

A strange noise rumbled in my throat—bewildered. I thought I was still dreaming and this was just a bizarre dreamscape of me talking to my mother with a background nightmare posing to attack anytime soon. Her words compelled me to pinch myself and I realised this was no dream. This was freaking real. She was freaking real and so were her words. For a second, blackness hazed in my vision and I gulped and gasped for breath, invisible long-calloused fingers around my neck.

She couldn't...possibly...

"What DID you just say?" I didn't know if my voice was steeled or struggling—maybe both.