Status Quo | ✓

-23-

Two weeks passed and I finally regained some control over my body. I was able to do simple things now, but my limbs remained weak and it took a lot of effort to get most of the things done. Though, I believe that it was already a huge improvement as compared to the condition I was in when first brought into the hospital. Dr Jansen was encouraging enough to tell me that a few more month's of physiotherapy would be enough to get me almost recovered. 

With the help of the speech therapist, I was also able to talk now. At first thought, I had assumed that being able to speak would make it easier to communicate with Mom and Leon. Yet, I just realised that it had made everything worse between all of us. 

I couldn't brush everything off with a simple smile anymore. Everyone, everyone, wanted me to talk to them about all that happened. First, it was the police. Then, came the psychologists. After which, there was Mom, Leon, Clara and whoever that came to visit. 

It felt so maddening that 'I'm feeling tired' became a habitual excuse I would throw at them just to end the conversation abruptly. The walls around me became higher each time as I tried to push everyone out and allow myself to hide within the mental fortress that could protect me from the cruel world beyond. I couldn't bring myself to relive that experience, again and again, it was haunting the very daylight out of me. 

Slowly, I stopped taking visits and I pretended to sleep whenever someone entered my ward. There were also times I told the nurses to shut people out just so that I could be alone. I told them that I needed rest but I was simply running away from the reality of everything because I didn't want to talk to any of them — not when they are always so careful that it made everything they do so infuriating to bear. People always looked like they were tip-toeing to avoid getting slit from the imaginary broken glass shards around me.

With them, I didn't feel normal at all. 

And I hated that feeling. 

-

I remembered falling asleep but when I opened my eyes again, the room was so dark that I couldn't see anything beyond the source of light from the lamp that was hung right above me. 

Click. Bang!

I jumped and realised that I was tied to a chair. Then, I realised that I was back in that room — the room where nightmares were truly made of. 

Click. Bang!

This time, the sound came close to my ears. It sounded so near that I almost felt like it was a close brush before death. I knew that my tormentor was firing his gun in the room but I couldn't see where he was, so I simply sat in the chair and held onto my breath. I squeezed my eyes shut in fear and willed my heart to slow down. Yet, it only pounded faster with every second that I spent in silence in this miserable space, without knowing when the next shot will be fired.