What They Didn't Tell Us

Chapter 8 HIM

I sit comfortably on the cold floor as I watch the beautiful sunset. Its colors intersect together and turn the sky from a happy blue, to a warm orange, to a soothing purple. I sit, mesmerized, as Diana sits by my side, holding my hand.

I was not expecting to see her losing control on the floor when I was searching for her. When I went to check on her, she was once again not in her room. I wanted to make sure she was okay...

And then I found her lying on the floor crying, mumbling that she does not want to remember. And I understood exactly what was going on.

"Thank you for... you know." Diana said, looking embarrassed.

"It's all good." I say, giving my most reassuring smile. She smiled back, looked down, and looked back at the sunset.

Her dark eyes seem far away but focused. I look at her for a while and take in her beautiful appearance. Her long, brown, curly hair flows a little with the breeze. Her dark skin glows due to the soft like coming from the sun. Her red lips frozen together as she thinks.

I wonder what she is thinking about.

"Protea."

"What?" I ask, shocked.

What's she talking about? Does she know something about the 'Protea' that the doctors were talking about?

Maybe I should pay closer attention.... Maybe Diana knows something I don't...

"Protea. My name is Protea." She says looking at me, her eyes twinkling.

Huh?

Her name is not Diana?

What are the odds that her name was brought up during the doctors' conversation... who is she?

Actually... Should I even believe her. She already lied once... At least once...

Wait... where have I heard the word Protea before?

The doctors' conversation... but before that?

...Isn't it a flower?

"I know it's weird. And I am sorry for lying to you... I just didn't know if I could trust you..." She says, looking away at the word trust.

Trust.

That word has always been my worst enemy.

'Trust me, it will be good for you.'

'Trust me, it will be fun.'

'Don't worry about who is in charge. It does not matter. Trust me.'

"Chrys?"

"We should get going... it's late..."

She looks to the side and sighs.

She seems kind of disappointed.

Truthfully I am too, but my urge to be alone is stronger than my want for a conversation with a patient.

That's all she is anyway, right... a patient.

I sigh and stand up.

"Let's go." I say helping her up from the ground.

"Yeah...", Protea says, standing up and brushing off her pants from the dust

I've got to say... I think the name Protea seems more like her.

Protea... I have to find out more about that name. Especially where I've heard it before.

...

I wonder...