Living in a Mirage

Chapter Eleven

"We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it."

- Tennessee Williams

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Dedicated to sangy1989 who motived me to update earlier than I had scheduled. Thank you for your kind word and for your sweet gesture... *hugs*

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The snowfall...

That sure was a sight he was not used to. He lived in India after all, a country which was warm even when the rest of the world was freezing from the cold winters.

It was somewhat fascinating. Never before he had the time to appreciate any sight and it had more doing with the impatient nature of his than the places he has always lived in. Even though he was sure it never snowed in Mumbai.

So how come it was snowing now?

It was fascinating, the way snow fell on an already white ground. Now lying on the bed, incapable of moving, he was forced to do nothing more than gaze at the snowfall whenever he got bored with the task of glaring at the ceiling. Why was it snowing all the time? Whenever he got around to look outside of the window, it was snowing - He had enough! How much one could admire the snowfall in its beauty? Why was it that it was suddenly snowing so much in Mumbai? He thought, frowning. Was he somewhere else? He must be.

Wait! He was in a hospital in some other country, wasn't he? Was that the reason why everyone that had walked in the hospital room had pale skin and talked with a perfect British accent? Not that his parents couldn't call in the doctors outside from abroad. They did so almost every time he fell ill or had any kind of accident. And he sure had fallen ill or had accidents many times in the short span of his nineteen years. Or was it twenty, now? How much time had passed, anyway?

Suddenly he realized as the time passed, he didn't feel so numb or dizzy, even though slowly the pain was making its presence known. He was remembering more and more details and could connect the thoughts passing in his mind. Which was good, he assumed. As it meant he now could remember what happened the last time he was conscious, but could he really?

He forced his mind to remember 'the last time' and then suddenly it came to him, in pieces and chunks of this and that, but it did. Nothing made sense to him but he could always work on to find a connection, could he not?

Did that mean he remembered more 'last times' than he thought he did? Good, it was good. He was somewhat sure of it.

The silence he was surrounded with drove him crazy. But he couldn't run away from it. Hell! - He couldn't even move. He was blocked and trapped. As he looked down at his body, even though half of it was wrapped in the warm blankets, he knew it was more broken than he thought it was. While his body was heavy due to the bandages and the plasterers it had on it, his mind was dizzy under the effect of sedatives they kept injecting him with. Trapped he truly was, he thought as he let out a deep sigh.

Used to the life of Mumbai, he found the silence around him deafening - add the snowfalls and things got worse for him than ever. He must be somewhere in the north. Somewhere his father had power, control, and business companies. His mind worked more efficiently as he forced it to think. London? New York? Or was it Toronto?

Wait, didn't they say he was in London? He remembered someone telling it to him. He didn't remember who, he just remember a voice telling him that he was in London. So, here it is, one more thing he knew now, he was in some hospital in London.