The Ways of Patching Up | ✓

Twenty Eighth

It simply took one moment for Elliot's world to crumble into numerous pieces and for all the positive buildups to evaporate into thin air.

All of the anticipation of seeing Dad grinning down at him and joking around like the goofy father he previously was vanished in just a snap. His brain completely ceased functioning, unable to register and process what happened. Subsequently, there were prominent jabs upon his clobbering heart like a ruthless knife.

The child lost his ability to govern over his own body and mind, as his trembling knees weakened under his weight. He didn't even know whether the time around him abruptly stopped or sped up. Out of the blue, he had his vocal chords pushed beyond its capabilities as he found himself launching towards his motionless father without further contemplation.

"DAD!!! DAD, PLEASE WAKE UP!!! DAD!!!"

Elliot yelled on top of his lungs, his cracking voice was louder than it could ever be, roaring throughout the vicinity. His vision grew cloudy as water pooled into the edges of his eyes, streaming down his face and refusing to slow down. He forcefully swayed Dad's body back and forth, begging for him to open his eyes and grin, telling him it was merely a harmless prank. However, despite all of his hard efforts, Dad never moved a slightest inch.

"DAD!!! DAD PLEASE SAY SOMETHING!!!"

At this point, he didn't even care about anyone else around him, even Ms. Fairchild, who probably was witnessing the entire scene. All he wanted to desperately see was for his father to snap out of his trance or... perhaps a slightest twitch of his muscle was more than enough. This was proven unsuccessful, however, there were zero results produced.

"DAD, JUST WAKE UP PLEASE!!!"

The screams continued as his thrashes gradually shifted into punches as the child's small fists continuously smacked Dad. At first, all of the blows were strong enough to incite pain, but as seconds dragged by, Elliot's strength weakened, and before he knew it, a pair of hands grabbed the boy by his arms, pulling him off his father's frail body.

"LET GO OFF ME!!!"

The iron grip was proven too powerful for Elliot to wriggle out, but regardless, the boy convulsed on the spot as he continued screaming. He extended both of his hands, frantically trying to reach out for his father, and even with a foggy vision, he could make out the unmistakable figure of Mr. Zheng, appearing out of nowhere and was crouching down near Dad. The old man practically had his hands on his shoulders.

"NO!!! DON'T TOUCH MY DAD!!!"

As Elliot bellowed and kept squirming in his spot, all sorts of incorrigible mumblings and shoutings started ringing in his eardrums. He couldn't make out most of them, but certainly, there were some comprehensive words he could make out and understand somehow, although he was left with no clues what they were talking about.

"Lawson... can... hear me?! ...911!!!"

"Trying... ambulance... help urgently... poisoning! He has been..."

"Take care... Elliot... me... handle the rest!"

At their unfamiliar discussions, the boy had the urge to yell some more, but his hyperventilation as well as his sore throat impeded him from taking further action. Gasping, he could already taste the salty tears slipping into his quivering lips.

Elliot didn't want to think for the worst, but the fact that his father wasn't responding to any of his previous ordeals... his hopes gradually diminished. The child writhed and whimpered loudly while Ms. Fairchild embraced him, making sure he wasn't facing directly at the horrifying sight, and that was when the rambunctious sounds of incoming sirens came into being.

No... Dad... he can't be...

NO!!! Please don't let this happen!!

He watched with widened puffy eyes as people with white uniforms burst in, pushing a stretcher. Mr. Zheng instantly stepped aside, as if he was allowing these weird strangers to deal with Dad. As they put him into the bed and carried him away, fear devoured Elliot's guts. NO!!! What are they doing?! They're not taking my dad away!!! Where are they taking him too?!

He could no longer handle the fact that he was just standing there, seeing those people loading Dad into the back of some truck. Using the last bits of his strength, Elliot thrusted himself forward albeit Ms. Fairchild's grasp, his screams sounding hoarse.

"NO!!! DON'T TAKE MY DAD AWAY!!!"

"Ellio-"

"PLEASE LET ME BE WITH HIM-" Elliot's uproar was interrupted when he broke into coughs, his pained throat finally had enough of his continuous wailing. Ms. Fairchild instinctively massaged his back as well as caressing his blond tufts, trying to give him some sort of assurance.

"Elliot, take a deep br-"

"Please don't take Dad away, Ms. Fairchild..." Elliot sobbed, clenching on her clothes, "Dad had never done anything wrong... he never hurt me or anything... he's a good person... listen to me... please..."

Just looking at the thick tears that gathered in his innocent eyes, Ms. Fairchild felt like she was the worst person to ever exist in the entire planet. She should have taken the small child away as soon as she recognized his father lying on the ground, but no... she just stood there, her common sense thrown out of the window. She gawked like a clueless idiot... until someone took charge.

What the heck am I doing...? Why didn't I protect this defenseless kid...? I'm not doing my job right, am I...?

"Oh sweetie..." despite the pressure put on her, Ms. Fairchild attempted soothing him down, "they're good people, and they're gonna be the one taking care of your daddy. With them there, he'll be alright, I promise."

"Where are they taking my dad too?!"

"To the hospital, my child," she answered, showing no signs of letting the boy go. If anything, she was hugging him even tighter than before, "don't worry, your daddy's gonna be treated there so that he can recover from his sickness..."

Elliot said nothing, not because he genuinely had no comment, but because he was too exhausted to say anything. Regardless, he still wanted to be with Dad, accompanying him when he got treated so that those 'good people'... were indeed good. The child leaned his aching head against Ms. Fairchild as he whimpered quietly, as flashbacks of his father began to replay.

"It's okay, sweetie... It's all gonna be okay..." the purple-haired woman comforted.

I don't wanna be here...

I wanna be with Dad... he needs me...

And the next thing he knew, time just blurred out.