Into My Heart

VIII

The rush hours in the hospital seemed to have passed, as I was walking toward the special wing for 'care before death' (alright, that is not the exact name, but that's exactly how it felt to me at that very moment). Every nurse or doctor I would come across would stare at me with sorrow and compassion, even with their masks on. I was pretty glad I had mine on so that they wouldn't see how affected I was. All those emotions buried inside were about to go out, and I would do anything in my power to restrain them.

When I get near the room my father is in, I immediately see Sam in the arms of a big, strong guy with light, brown hair - and I can tell she is crying her eyes out. A little further away, at the end of the corridor, Kristie is standing by the window, staring outside, and I can tell by her body language that she is affected but cannot show it either. 

After a few seconds, as I had stopped walking a few meters away from Sam and the mystery guy, the girl turns away from him and stares at me. At first, I really feared her reaction: I had been ignoring her and Kristie for two weeks, she would really have every right to be really mad at me at the moment. She takes a few step further and stops right in front of me, and I can see she is squeezing her fist.

Against all odds, she just wraps her arms around me and puts her chin on my shoulder, softly sobbing. 

Well, that is unusual, I think to myself, not able to hold back my tears. Instead, Sam's embrace is the first genuine contact I have had in years - nobody ever holds me, or tells me it's gonna be alright. I grew up alone, and I thought my life was gonna end up this way. But Sam holds me closer, as the tears starts rolling down my cheeks. Kristie, who had walked toward us, stands next to Sam's friend, her eyes read from crying. 

Sam acknowledges that and opens her arms to her sister. Kristie coldly stares at me, until I also open my own arms, at the general surprise it seems. Frowning, but seeming quite relieved, Kristie also joins our hug, as I feel her arm being thrown around my back, as she squeezes as well. Sam is crying pretty hard at the moment, so Kristie and I tried to hold our tears back. After quite some time - could be minutes, could be hours, I wasn't sure - we let each other go, as I immediately wipe my tears away.

As I was about to apologise for disappearing for two weeks, Kristie catches me off guard when she says in a softer voice than usual:

"It's alright, we get it."

She had said that in a whisper, but her words just resonated in my head: well, maybe I was wrong about Kristie Mewis, she wasn't a cold-hearted bitch - I am. 

After a few seconds, Sam grabs the boy's hand and says:

"Abby, this is Pat, my boyfriend."

The guy in question, who seemed to be just like Sam - affectionate, kind, sweet and present - nods his head and cracks a smile. 

"Nice to meet you, ghost sister" he jokingly says, and even manages to makes me crack a very shy smile. Afterwards, he turns toward Sam and Kristie, and adds: "We could nickname her Casper!"

While Sam bursts into laughter, Kristie states:

"That actually suits you pretty well, all things considered" and, when Sam gives her a bow in the ribs, she friendly adds: "But since we are family, whether you want it or not, it is only right for you to have a nickname, dummy." 

"Alright" I only say, laughing softly.

As the atmosphere was getting lighter, I remembered why I was there, and my facial expression immediately fades I can tell - the three people in front of me realised it, and just nodded with compassion. 

After a few seconds, Sam says:

"He's been waiting for you, so you should go in."

I nod my head, holding my tears back once again, and walk past them in order to enter the hospital room number 55. 

Inside, my father was lying down in his bed, his eyes closed, machines all around him filling the room with soft yet repetitive noises. As soon as I step foot inside this room, I feel the weight of his life on my shoulders, dropping unexpectedly, as he opens his eyes and coldly stares at me. He waves at me, trying to bring me to sit down right next to him, on his bed. Setting my jaw, I silently do so and, as soon as I am seated, he grabs my hand weakly.

Then, his face breaks down in a smile, as his bright, blue eyes just stare into my soul it seems. His voice is broken when he says:

"Listen very carefully, my daughter, we don't have any time left."

I frown.

"What? But-"

"Shh" he orders, and immediately after he starts coughing - the bad kind of cough, the one that came from the lungs, announcing imminent death... Once it is over - for now - he stares at me and says: "My time is up. I have to tell you something..."

"Tell me" I say, trying to hold myself together.

After a small silence, he brings me closer to him, as his mouth almost is in my ear. His whisper brushes it, as shivers run down my spine:

"My death is not an accident"

"What? But how-" I start, talking too loudly.

He grabs my forearm so that I would let him continue, and so he does:

"My sickness was caused by- was caused, was- Somebody made me sick on purpose, I'll die because somebody wanted me to, I-I can't explain everything right now I'm too tired, too tired, too ti-... Somebody wanted me dead..."

"Dad, slow down" I interrupt him, not feeling anything inside myself but pain and despair.

But suddenly, the machines around us start beeping, at first calmly, then it became alarming: my father's eyes close for a moment, as his breathing becomes irregular. Afterwards, I don't remember anything - the doctors coming in, nurses trying to get me out of the room, my sister yelling my name from the corridor...

All I remember is my father's hand reaching for my arm one final time, getting me closer to him, as he whispers into my ear:

"The P-Press family... they did that to me...."

And then, he dies, and everything goes blurry.