Doctor's Touch

Chapter 9

Click click click. Your hands tighten on the bar when you feel the cart dragging itself. Click click click. You remember you're on a roller-coaster and instantly your heartbeat quickens in fear. You laugh nervously, thinking about what awaits you after you reach the top. Click click click. The cart continues moving and you start questioning your sanity. Why did you agree on coming again? Click click click. There is nowhere else to escape, you're going down. And there are two things you can do: scream in horror or enjoy the ride. Suspect that your gut is in your throat or experience the playful wind toying with your hair.

In this way, you can't deny that life resembles a roller-coaster, a ride full of obstacles and opportunities. Yet, humans try to elongate the time in which the cart is dragging itself to the top. It's their own coping mechanism- ignoring the downs, believing they only encounter ups. What they don't know is that the illusion will eventually end, and they will have to decide quickly on which attitude to select. And we all know which one is the most favorable.

When dawn brings a new freshness to light, we know our time in Seville has come to completion. So, being reasonable, we decide not to dwell on it or on the fact that we woke up very early. Instead, we drink our coffee to bear with an early rise. Having packed our bags yesterday, we take them and head to the place indicated by the cruise sheet. We are expected to arrive in a city called Cádiz because Seville is not on the coast. We enter the taxi and I glance at Evelyn. She seems better than in former times. By better, I mean that she is wearing a smile big enough to light up the whole city, which is scaring me. She doesn't want us to give her the special treatment, so we're silently watching her making sure she's okay.

Baggage in hands and backbone to the city, I think we are ready to go.

As we surpass the houses of Cádiz, I notice that is even more magnificent and joyful than Seville. The road takes up approximately two hours before we arrive at the coast.

I look up and study the ship before embarking it. From outside, it screams beauty and elegance with its solid wood lined up together. It is also decorated with blue sails in honor of the sea and the sky. If you ask my opinion, the ship would have been great for the titanic movie.

At the entry, some man asks for our IDs and crosses our name from his list. We thank him and step inside the boat. I take each step carefully, afraid of damaging the delicate wooden surface. Some other man appears afterward to usher us to our room. It is not as big as the one we had in the hotel, but it is just as beautiful. Besides my bed, there is a window that showcases the waves, as majestic as they are.

I rearrange my clothes in the closet quickly, driven by the desire to watch the city from the sea's point of view. Evelyn has just started unpacking while Alice is video chatting with her boyfriend. I profit from the situation and slip away till I arrive at the deck of the ship.

There are few people present, but I ignore them and extend my arms to feel the wind playing with my fingers. My nose detects the salty odor of the sea, orchestrating in me an endless state of ecstasy. My eyes admire how the furthest houses are smaller than my fingernails. The whole portrait completes me, and I find myself laughing endlessly. Some of the individuals present a little smile at my public display.

"You have a beautiful laugh," comments a voice from behind me. This voice feels familiar and raises the hair on my skin. I turn around and see Troy pressing himself on the wall.

My heart starts beating in its unusual way, celebrating in a loud cheerful voice that he didn't leave with Jake. My brain shushes the music, disgusted by this reaction towards him. He looks at me sweetly, and I want to burn that sweetness to ashes. 

His comment makes me realize that he hadn't just been nice on Ava's birthday. He had been flirting with me, just like he's doing right now. We're alone, and nobody is watching. He doesn't have any reason to offer me compliments- unless he's a playboy. The realization dawns on me, and I feel like a fool for falling for his tricks.