The Mafia's Flower (ON HOLD)

Chapter Seventeen

'Open your mouth. Say ahh.'

'But I don't wanna—' and then, she pushed the icky soup into my mouth before I could react. I squinted my eyes tightly and forced myself to swallow the bitter remedy.

'There you go, baby girl.' The woman with the long dark hair smiled down at me, her dimples that I had loved all my young life, reminding me that I was not alone.

'Mum, that's so unfair.' I pouted, still feeling the bitter aftertaste in my mouth. But all mum did was smile, getting ready to scoop another spoonful of her bitter porridge soup for me before pausing when we heard my name come from the doorway. It sounded like Sally's familiar criketty voice.

'Fiona... Fiona...'

And then, I felt her familiar shake on my arms. Like she normally would whenever she tried waking me up during our sleepovers. Only this time, her grip was much stronger and her voice was a lot deeper.

Had Sally always been this strong?

"Fiona! Fiona!" The voice got a lot clearer and when I'd finally opened my once tightly shut eyes, the familiar image of blonde curls and clear blue eyes pervaded my vision.

I fluttered my eyes open. "Abel?"

"Are you okay?" His sky blue eyes searched mine frantically but I could tell at once that he was worried. I looked round and only noticed that we were in a parking lot. Abel was standing before me but I was still seated on his bike. Only odd thing now was that Abel had both hands clamped down on either side of my arms, as it seemed like he had been the one shaking me earlier and not the distant memory of my childhood friend.

"Uh, what happened?" I asked, trying to remember how and when we had already arrived here.

Abel sighed. "We got here like 5 minutes ago. But when I turned to face you, you were holding on to me and shaking so furiously, I thought you were going into a seizure."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah, wow." He said sarcastically and only then loosened his grip on me. "I kept calling your name but you weren't answering me. I almost dialed 911. Sheesh." He brought his hand up to his face and wiped a line of sweat forming at his brow. Abel looked so nervous and worried.

"I'm sorry," I uttered nervously myself. I didn't mean to cause him worry.

He looked at me from the side. "No, I—I should be the one apologising. I didn't even realise I was going that fast. I didn't mean to scare you."

I shook my head. "It's not that you were going fast or anything." I chuckled. "It's just, I have this slight PTSD associated with bikes. Motorcycles to be precise."

Abel looked at me weirdly, quirking a brow in the process. "Really? Are you sure I wasn't going too fast? I know I can get carried away sometimes and—"

"No, no. Really." I sighed. "It's just... I had a bit of an accident with a biker when I was 9. And it made me spend two weeks in the hospital. So whenever I see a bike, it gets me a bit antsy but only for the first few minutes." I stood up from the bike and looked down at it. "This is my first time taking a ride on one ever since then. So, I guess the memories came flooding in."

"Oh," his voice seemed a bit relaxed now. "When you were 9?"

"Yeah. It's actually quite funny when I think about it now." I chuckled again as I played it back in my head. "It happened one Halloween when I snuck out to go trick or treating with Sally and the others. It's funny cause I had a fever. Anyways, I was having so much fun I didn't realise I didn't look well before crossing the road. And along came a biker man who was just passing through town, and then, woop! Next thing I know, I'm writhing in pain on the ground, barely escaping death with a few cuts and bruises and a sprained knee and ankle."