"Yes, she told me about a new dad I've never met," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You mean you've never met him at all?" the superior detective pressed, his eyes locked on mine. I nodded, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over me.
Before he could ask another question, I suddenly felt a wave of nausea and rushed to a corner, vomiting violently. My stomach churned, protesting the turmoil and anxiety that had been building up inside me. As I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, my eyes landed on a stretcher being wheeled out, with my mum lying motionless beneath a white sheet. My heart sank, and I sprinted towards her, my legs trembling beneath me. I felt the whole weight of the world crashing on me. My soul got lost, wandering in the world of pains.The pain felt like a fresh wound, and I couldn't help but cry out in anguish. That was the last thing I remembered.
I slowly opened my eyes, and the pungent smell of antiseptic swept through my nose down to my stomach. Fatigue had taken over, weighing my body down like chains and rattles. As I scanned the room, I was struck by the stark white walls, a sterile backdrop that seemed to amplify the beeping of the machines surrounding me. My gaze drifted to the IV line, lost in fascination of how the fluid dripped steadily into the tube, each drop a rhythmic countdown. Before I could piece together what had happened, a gentle voice broke the silence.
"How are you feeling now, little one?" The words were soft, but they jolted me back to reality, and I turned my head toward the speaker. The statement echoed in my head and my vision became blurred. But I was able to see a woman who seems to be in her mid fifties smiling at me. I couldn't comprehend her dressing.
"Sister Margaret! Can they take her once she's fine" Someone came in asking that.
"Let's look at how much she will reciprocate first"
"Take me?" My mind questioned ruminating so hard on the statement.
I heard the door closed behind me with a soft creak. I stood up with the little energy left in me and looked across the window, its frame a stark contrast to the expansive view outside. It was so high to the ground, the children below like tiny figures in patients' uniforms, their socks and slippers a blur as they played football with infectious laughter.We seems to be of the same age. I scanned through the whole environment, taking in the neat and tidy grounds, the lush green grass a perfect playground for the kids.
Some were engrossed in the football match, their shouts and cheers filling the air, while others chased each other around, their smiles radiant. But there was a particular girl who seemed to be older than the rest of them, sitting at a corner, her eyes cast down, looking gloomy with her long, rough, unkempt hair covering her face.My eyes were glued to her, a pang of curiosity stirring within me. She seems to be totally different from others. No sock nor slippers on.
"You will soon meet them," a soft voice broke the silence. This time my vision was cleared when I turned to see the speaker, her eyes kind and gentle. She was dressed like those nuns I do see in movies, her fingers clasped around a rosary, a tray balanced on her palm, a cup sat on it, vapour rising lazily from it.
"Have a cup of tea to awaken your body before you eat," She said, her voice a soothing melody, drawing a chair near my bed with a soft scrape. I slowly walked back to my bed, perhaps confused, because mum warned me not to collect anything from strangers. She beckoned to me with her hands, her eyes warm and inviting, to drink the tea.
"Your mum..." The cup that was halfway to my mouth slipped off my hands at that moment, shattering on the floor into a hundred pieces. The woman rose up immediately, her eyes filled with concern, and held me as I was shivering from unknown anxiety, my body trembling like a leaf on flowing river .
"It's going to be fine," she whispered softly, her warm breath on my ear, as she held me close to her bosom. She looked up, her gaze piercing, and called out.
"Mary! Mary!" A girl in her teens, with a look of curiosity, ran inside, her footsteps light on the floor.
"Come clean this place up," the woman instructed, her voice firm but gentle. The girl nodded, and as she helped me lie back on my bed, the woman whispered into my ear, "You will be fine." But I couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that had settled in my stomach. My legs and hands trembled uncontrollably, and I felt like I was losing control. I started jerking violently, my body convulsing in spasms.
The girl, who had been bending to pick up the broken shards of the cup, looked up, her eyes wide with alarm. She stood up, dropping the broom, and covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes fixed on me in horror.
"Sister Margaret!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the room, and the nun ran in, her face etched with concern.
"Oh my God, she's convulsing!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with a mix of fear and professionalism. "Go call the nurse," she yelled at the girl, her eyes never leaving mine. I felt like I was slipping away, consumed by an impending doom that threatened to engulf me. Past memories flooded my head, and tears streamed down my face as I felt myself being pulled into a horror alleyway.The noises around me grew fainter, and all I could hear were the distant sounds of footsteps approaching and muffled voices.
"Her name is Lila. She's new here," someone said,