Hello, again :)
Here's a sneak
peek at my new novel coming up. It's called Betrayal, and it'll be out later this month. Please comment, and don't forget to check out
my twitter for more info!!
CHAPTER ONE: THE END?
I stood by her left side of
this hospital bed, holding her hand as my eyes gaze into her broken soul. Those
green eyes, the same eyes I have loved ever since the day we met, has now
withered away into depression and anxiety from her illness. Everything inside
me wanted to see her out of this place, but the longer I gaze upon her
condition (the paleness of her skin, the weakness in her voice), the more my
heart starts to doubt it, and it's making my every hope disappear before my
very eyes.
"Please!! Please don't
go!!' I begged, fighting the pain inside as I grasp her hand ever so tightly.
"I'm sorry, I don't…have
the strength…to go on anymore" she whimpered as tears of sorrow washes
over her eyes. She disconnects her gaze to look forward, and lifts her head to
cover her coughs. Gratefully she stops, and rests her head back upon her
pillows as she returns her gaze to mine.
"Please, take care of
your self and our children, when they need you".
"Don't say that! Don't,
please hold on, I-I can't go on without you".
She gently strokes my left
cheek with the back of her hand.
"I'm sorry, you have
too-
Suddenly her cough returns,
but this time it's so bad she's struggling to breathe. I look towards the door
behind me, ready to charge for help, but just in time it opens. Over a dozen
doctors and nurses came storming in to our aid. They surround us, checking
either the monitors or her condition. I turn back to my beloved, but sadly her
eyes are closed, and even this doesn’t free them to grace me once more.
“Sir you’re going have to
stay outside” commanded the short blond haired nurse as she steps and gently
pushes my chest towards the door.
“No, wait, that’s my wife-
“I understand, but this is
medical procedure. You’re going to have to stand outside”.
Without remorse, she
continues, as if her mind is programmed to only treat the physically ill, and
not the emotionally scarred. I wanted to push her out the way, but I also
didn't want to interfere with the surgery, so I let her guide me into this
empty hallway filled with lights as she closes the door in front of me. I peek
through the small window in the middle, hoping to get at least a glance of my
beloved. But the over-crowd of white lab coats surrounding and rushing to
revive her made it impossible to see even an inch of her hand. I wanted to
burst in so badly I can feel my fists clinch with aggression, but no matter
what, I had to hold myself back. Feeling defeated, I unloosen my grip and turn
away to lean my head against the door. My mind felt like letting her go, but my
heart couldn't bare the thought of this. Letting the woman I loved for over
fifty-two years die? It feels inhuman. It feels like something I wouldn't dream
of doing, even on my worst day. But still, out of concern, I lean back up to
check through the window. Now they seem to be moving a little faster than
before, as if she's in danger. But I hear the heart monitor, and its beeping
normally. Is something's really wrong? I have to see. I turn the knob, but it
jiggles. I bang on the wooden frame outside of the glass five times, but
strangely no one turns around. I bang harder, this time to the point of
breaking it as I yell for help. Thankfully the same nurse rushes over and opens
the door, but not without swinging it wildly as if to hit me. I stepped back,
just avoiding it by inches.
"Sir stop-
I rush pass her towards my
wife's side.
"Sir you can't be in
here!"
I ignore her commands as I
push the other doctors away to see her.
Oh no! Her head is turned
away from me, and as I'm leaning over, I can still see traces of pain and
sorrow upon her face. Suddenly the heart monitor goes berserk. I glance to find
its red lines jumping out of control. Oh no! She's slipping into cardiac
arrest! I have to save her! Suddenly something grabs my arm and pulls me away
behind the doctors. I see them coming together, and I knew from the mild
strawberry scented body spray that it was the nurse trying to guide me back
outside, but I struggle to pull myself forward; hoping to reach my wife in
time. Suddenly something grabs my lungs, and squeezes them until all my breath
escapes.
"Sir, you have to leave!
Come on".
I try to speak, but my voice
seizes along with it. My heart is pounding like a drum as if it's trying to
burst out of my chest. I turn to look ahead out the opened door and see the
hallway began to twist into a blur. I hold on to the archway, and feel my legs
starting to give in.
"Damn!! I don't think
she's going to make it. We're gonna need penicillin here stat!!" commanded
a doctor behind me.
Oh no, she's about to go. I
don't think I can go on. All those years together, from the time we met, to the
time we wed, to the time our children were born, all will be reduced to living
the rest of my life in pure loneliness. I think, instead of fighting, I should
let it consume me, just to be able to hold her hand and be by her side once
again. I collapse upon the floor, feeling my back slam hard against the floor
as I watch the ceiling in front of me start to fade. Even in this blur, I can
still hear the same, cold hearted nurse finally racing to my side. She stops
and kneels down, pressing her cold hands against my chest as her head rests
between them. Within a second she lifts back up and yells:
"Hey, we have a man down
out here!!"
I hear heavy footsteps racing
towards me, but now my life feels like its slipping away. I can no longer see
them, I can no longer hear their voices; and for the first time I think, maybe,
this is for the best.
I slowly open my eyes when
the sound of a heart monitor reaches my ears. But my eyes, they remain in a
blur, hopefully they will terminate soon. I gaze around. Suddenly my vision
starts to clear, and it isn't long before I can see this entire hospital room
again. I turn left with a smile, hoping to meet my wife's heart warming gaze
once more, but all I capture is the beeping of a lonely heart monitor standing
just a few feet away from my bed. I look on top of its screen, and that's when
my whole world crashed before my eyes. It's the same golden locket I gave her
for her twenty-forth birthday, hanging just inches off the screen. I gently
pick it up, and lay it across all four of my fingers as I press its broken
link, caused by one of the doctors, with my thumb. As I gaze at my reflection
on its surface, I can feel my heart sinking into the bottom of my stomach. I
can't believe it. She's gone, and there's nothing I can do to save her.
For weeks my stay felt empty
and hollow. All those doctors checking those readings from the I.V.'s, all
those nurses bringing me food and water, all felt empty from the little to no
conversations. But even all this wasn't the worst yet to come.
Now I am hopelessly slouching
on a black, folded up chair, buried in misery as dozens of relatives surround
me on this cold December morning.
With their voices drenched
with despair, each woman released their cries among the air, in a place I never
expected to see Alice:
a funeral. My eyes have been resting on her polished, oak wooden coffin this
whole time, and with every passing second I wish I was in there instead of her.
I felt so desperate for her touch that I wished she would leap out and wrap her
arms around me, like she always did every time I came home, but as the seconds
fade, so does the belief, and it's making me feel the end result: failure. My
old friend, Reverend James, gives the eulogy. His light and confident voice is
trying to help us believe she's living a more peaceful and harmonizing life
above, but all it's really doing, is bringing me back to the day we first met.
November 21, 1982:
Being the first of my family
to go to college, and after being accepted at University of Penn
for accounting, I couldn't wait to see what my life would be like there. All
these expectations of meeting new friends, and having my own room filled my
mind as I stepped onto the low-cut green-grass of its courtyard, surrounded by
its beautiful, Eighteenth century styled building. As my three freshly
purchased books lay perfectly still in my hands, I wondered through the first
opened main doors into a hallway filled with new students. Some was standing by
the wall on my right talking in groups, and others were wondering ahead of me,
looking amazed at its Victorian styled archways to classrooms. I thought if I
walked around for a little bit more my mind would map it out much quickly. Boy
was I wrong. It's so large with so many classrooms that everyday felt like I
was in a maze. Getting lost became the norm, and missing classes was like a
never ending ritual. But after two years, and an extensive two-day mental study
on my first weekend, the halls finally looked more recognizable. Than there was
that day, the day I finally met her. It was a late September, two years after
I've been there, and the warm weather was still present in the air. So much so
that if any student was caught wearing jeans on that day, his view of fashion
would be immediately disliked and downgraded upon. I was walking to the library
with a friend I met on my first day there. His name was George, an orange
haired, green-eyed guy with glasses large enough to fit a professor's. Even
though he looked like a nerd, he really didn't fit the part. He was more of a
stand up guy, known for his child-like charms and perky personality.
"So Brian, what's on
your agenda these evening?" he asked while lightly skipping ahead towards
the library doors.
"Me? Nothing really,
just studying that's all".
"You serious? Dude you
got to get out more!"
"Shut up George!"
After I followed him inside,
I froze when I saw her standing at the front desk. Her face was drenched with
concern and anxiety as she stands in front of a large red book. Her beauty
paralyzes me. Her golden blond hair, smooth flawless skin, and sparkling green
eyes makes her appear like an angel rather than your everyday college girl. My
heart rose to my throat. My first thought was lost. I couldn’t even remember my
name, nor found the urge to move. All I could do was stand there, and hope my
body would soon return from its paralysis state.
"Hey!"
Yells a voice as a snap from
two fingers in front of me causes an investigation. It didn't take long to find
George's face staring weirdly at me like I completely lost my mind.
"You okay?
I nod to loosen his
expression as I search for an explanation.
"Yeah, I'm fine I was
just, thinking about something".
But his expression stayed the
same.
"Oh, okay; well I'll be
in the bathroom if you need me".
He turns and wonders off
towards the bathrooms on my left, leaving me to become mesmerize at her beauty
once again. This time the librarian approaches her, and even though I couldn't
hear by how low the conversation was, it looked like she was arguing with her.
I knew it must've been over the book, and right than, I wanted to come up with
something that will get her attention, but I didn't know what. I lean my head
down, letting my mind process as many ideas as it possibly can, but none seemed
plausible, nor understandable. As my mind tries to process more, I look to find
her disappointingly turning and walking away towards the large desks on my
left. While thinking of something to say, I followed behind her, but still
remained only a few feet away. With every passing step, my heart pounded more
than what I could control. What if she thought I was ugly? What if she hated my
jokes? Or worst, what if she already had a boyfriend? All those thoughts not
only poisoned my mind, but it also poisoned my self-esteem, and with every
negative thought came the incredible urge to just run away, and hope she'll
never see me again; but suddenly, at the same time, there's been another voice
calling out to me from beneath these voices; almost like a command, telling me:
"Continue on, and don't
stop until she's yours".
I didn't know where that
voice came from, but it sounded like an old sub-conscious version from my dad,
but that was impossible. He died when I was thirteen, and even until the time
he did I never remember him saying anything like that to me.
"Did he come back from
the grave to help guide us together?" I thought.
"Well, time to find
out".
In the distance I saw her
taking a seat by the large empty desk. Seeing an empty chair a few inches away,
I slowly sat beside her, and placed my books carefully on the table's surface.
Her eyes were too buried in her red book to notice me, but that didn't stop her
perfume from catching my nose. Its strong, yet intoxicatingly sweet grapefruit
aroma took me to a place filled with flowers as I imagined the warm sunlight
settling upon my face. I closed my eyes, and immediately felt it as if I could
physically smell the scent among the flowers, and feel the warm rays caressing
my face.
"Hey, you okay?"
reached a soft, concerned voice.
I open my eyes, and seeing
her staring strangely into my cubical made my heart pound even harder as if I
was a lab rat. I was immediately lost for words, but only for a second, as some
did come to memory, although the way they were expressed was entirely out of my
control.
"Um,
hey…much…I…um…thought you were…"
Suddenly my mind just shut
down when she reflected a stare that said: "What are you talking
about?"
I tried to correct my words,
but everytime I opened my mouth, nothing but air came out. I turned away to
stare at the table. I felt so stupid and embarrassed I just wanted to run and
hide, but suddenly I heard something. It sounded like a hint of a giggle. I
looked up, only to find her laughing at me; but it wasn't like a teasing laugh,
it was more like a joyful giggle, as if I made her laugh; and right than, it
all made my stomach tickle, as well as caused butterflies to emerge from it.
After that we hit it off perfectly. Everyday I would see her in my English
class and everyday, when class was over, we would sit out in the courtyard to
talk about our families. I told her about my small family life back in Cleveland, Ohio.
I didn't have a very bad childhood, just a very disturbing one, and being the
only child in a family of a garden obsessed mother, and an environmental hippy
father, she could pretty much sum up my childhood image: a nature obsessed,
little hippy. My friends were that of trees, my fiends were that of other kids,
ready to kick my ass whenever I stepped out of the house. Luckily I haven't
stayed long, and moved to a small town of Bay Village,
Ohio. It
wasn't bad, just basically your average small American town. The kids were
nice, even though some questioned me, and some didn't; but the best thing in
the world to me was to finally walk home without having to run for my life!
After graduating from middle school I was pretty much done with the hippy
stuff, and I mean done. I got so tired of the trees and birds, and being
terrified of green house gasses that I went on a hobby spree, trying out every
single thing I could think of. I've tried jumping rope, hated it. Tried
basketball, sucked. Football, until I sprung my knee, and surfing, until I
almost drowned. Soon after I just took up the only thing I was good at:
knitting. It was something I always did with my mom when dad was at the power
plant, and I figured as long as nobody saw me, I was good. After graduating
from my normal existence in middle school, high school didn't seem so bad. In
fact it was just the same as middle school, only bigger. I still had the same
friends: Jimmy, Justin, Billy, and Stew, but this time I finally had a
girlfriend. She wasn't pretty as all the other girls, nor thin, but she was the
greatest friend I ever had. Her name was Lisa: a hundred and eighty pound girl
who wasn't much of a talker, but a very good listener. We always had fun
together. From trips to the park to share laughter and jokes, to even looking
up at the stars, wondering what the future held for us. I felt like she was
more than a very good friend, unlike the guys, she never laughed at me for
being shy around other girls, nor picked on me whenever I missed a basket when
playing ball with her. It all felt blissfully refreshing, and I couldn't
believe our relationship lasted for more than two years, but after the third
her family sadly had to move back to Austin Texas because of her father's job.
It was a very sad day seeing her go, it really made me feel very lonely inside.
She left a permanent scar in my heart that I knew, would hardly heal. After I
enrolled in Penn, I still kept thinking about her. What she must be doing, what
her life must be like, even when I talk to Alice, sometimes my mind still drifted away
to her. Alice's
childhood was far, far different than I could imagine. According to her: she
was born and raised in Charlotte,
Michigan: a small town with only
a population no bigger than five thousand, at least to her knowledge. She was
also raised by her grandparents, after her real parent's abandoned her when she
was a baby. From the time she was small, to the time she was a teen, her
grandfather would drank occasionally, throwing outbursts of verbal abuse until
she felt like no matter how hard she tried to please him, it was never enough:
she cooked the eggs too hard; she made the coffee too sweet; the living room
wasn't clean enough, or the attic was too dusty, even though she spent hours
cleaning them. Everyday for her felt like a battle for his affection, and
everyday she felt even more desperate to escape. When she heard about Michigan University after graduating from high
school, she immediately packed up her stuff and raced over to take up English
with the hope of being an English teacher. There she met a guy who would always
try to make her laugh with corny one liners. Thing was he was a pharmaceutical
technician, so the only time they could really see each other was through the
court yard when they had to exchange buildings. I guess that's why she didn't
really remember his name, but at least he was there for her, and not like
everyone else in her life: either a bully, or a tormentor. Two years later she
saw how high her G.P.A. was, and after transferring, she really liked Penn. She was amazed by
how big it was compared to her old school. Afterwards I told her about my
graduate program, which was accounting, and it was a good thing I met George,
cause with his connections to P.N.C. bank, I knew I would have a job in no time.
Within four years we graduated, and landed some pretty cool jobs, but before we
went to them, we had one thing else to do.
It was a beautiful November
afternoon in Scranton, Pennsylvania; and even in winter, a warm
summer breeze was still creeping through the empty streets carpeted with
colorful leaves from last autumn. The church was peaceful and silent, not a
word was whispered, even with every seat in the room filled. I still remember
standing at that alter, looking into her loving, caring eyes as I held her hand
close to my chest, but suddenly, I felt it shiver like she was deeply nervous
about something. I couldn't read her mind, but I could clearly see the fear and
uncertainty written all across her face. At first I thought she was having second
thoughts about the wedding, but then an intuitive feeling came over me, helping
me to understand what she must be going through. I felt as if she was worried
about the coming events that she wouldn't be able to control: like
disagreements, fights, and even a breakup in the near future. Within an
instant, I found the perfect way to rid her of this burden. I caressed her hand
gently to my chest as I gazed confidently in her eyes. I was sure it was all
just a figment of her imagination, as I remember having a feeling, since the
day we met, that we were destined to be together forever. And after dating her
for several years, everything we shared was of common interest. We love
traveling, for the passion of discovery; we love fishing, for the sport and
travel, and we even loved seeing our favorite movies at the theater every
weekend; and okay, I won't deny it, we did have our disagreements and arguments
from time to time, what couple hasn't? But we always found a way to resolve
them, no matter how bad. Some people called us soul mates, others say it was
just blind luck, but to me, it was more than that. It was destiny, pure and
simple. Finally, within a few minutes, her hand steadied, and I could finally
hear the reverend say the only line I was looking forward to all day.
"And if anyone here, has
any reasons why these two should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your
peace".
The room remained silent, and
when we kissed, it became one of the happiest days of my life.
Now, all that's left for me
is heart break, as I know that moment has slipped away, never to return.
"May we take this time,
to bow our heads, for the departure of Alice Stark, our loving and caring
teacher, wife, mother and greatest friend the world has ever known. As we see
her casket lowering down before our eyes, let us pray, that she'll always find
peace and love, in the afterlife".
Her coffin lowers beneath the
earth as I feel my spirit parting along with it.
While inside my 2002 blue
Toyota Camery, I try to think of something to keep my spirits high. Suddenly a
billboard catches my eye, revealing an empty fishing boat sitting gently on a
calm river. That's when the memory of a certain time replayed itself for me. I
remember twenty years ago, when she feel into a deep depression over the lost
of her mother due to a fishing accident, and the only way I could mend her
broken heart was to take her, and myself, on the cruise; but it cost over four
grand that day, and I was saving that money for a new engine for my old fishing
boat.
I couldn't believe my old one
exploded in Penns Creek. I would've died if I hadn't grabbed a nearby floating
log and peddled myself to safety. When I finally got home and told her, she
broke down, and made me promise I would never do that again.
But, of course, my passion
kept calling me; and after completing all those hours of calculations, and
putting up with so many ignorant slurs from angry clients with bad credit, I
finally made enough to get that engine, and set my sights for the nearest boat
dealer. I approach the dealer's front door, but I'm stopped by a blue, plastic
newspaper stand standing just a few feet away by the curb. I peeked inside, and
that's when I discovered that cruise ad in the paper for the Caribbean.
I knew than that I had a choice to make: buy the engine to fulfill my
passionate urge, or those tickets to fix my wife's broken heart.
Suddenly my decisions came in
the form of two thoughts. One kept reminding me of my passion, my destiny, my
hobby of taking that long, thin line and casting it upon the calm cooling
waters as I wait in the warm, summer breeze. Than there's the other one calling
out to me. My wife, her depression, her broken heart that needed treatment,
what was I to do?
I walked up to my wife as her
body concealed itself under the covers. Her back was turned to me. And even
though I couldn't see it, I still had a feeling her eyes were drenched with
tears, as if her depression was trying to destroy her completely.
"Honey?" I ask in a
low voice.
She turns until her eyes met
mines. And from behind my back, I revealed the tickets. Finally, she gave me a
reward much bigger than the engine itself: a smile, the most cheerful and
amazing smile I have ever seen was finally forming upon her lips. It took a few
hours flying from Philadelphia to Florida. And after
reaching and having the most amazing dinner upon that ship, she and I made it
to the top deck, and slowly danced among the stars as we held each other close.
Even though I still liked fishing, and would really love to be out in the
water, it still wouldn't had felt the same compared to this. And that's when I
knew, I made the right choice.
I awaken from my daydream.
Suddenly the back bumper of a truck comes within range. I swerve to the left,
evading it by inches from my mirror as I speed ahead into the distance. The
sight of it almost caused a heart attack. Thank god I'm a good driver!
I pull up in the drive-way
and turned off the engine. With my mind buried in misery, I really had no idea
how I was going to make it, but I knew I had to try. After dragging myself out,
I open my white-stained-glass door of our two-story home, and head inside
before gently guiding it closed. I never been inside this home by myself
before, so the furniture: the white leather couch against the stair case to my
left, the smudge-less glass table standing in front of it, and large television
screen mounted against the wall to my right, really seemed different now. It
didn't really feel like my home anymore. In fact, it feels like I've walked
into a completely different house. I guess I've gotten so use to her running up
to hug and kiss me that without it this home feels, empty. I drag myself over
to flop on the couch. I collapse my head into my hands, trying to focus my
attention on how I'll be able to recover from this. And after listening to
nothing but silence for a few seconds, it's starting to feel impossible.
Suddenly a knock on the door
interrupts me. I look, but can only see the image of a shadow cast upon the
stained glass. Suspicion grows within me, but it's dismissed when paranoia
refuse to take over. I walk over to answer it, thinking it must be the
neighbors or someone lost. But once I catch the glimpse of combed backed black
hair, a well tailored suit, and saddened brown eyes did I really appreciate
seeing my eldest son Charles again.
"Hey dad" he greets
in the same high tone voice I always remembered. Only this time it's much
weaker than before, something we both can relate too.
"Hey, come on in" I
called him, battling my depression as well.
We both sat on the couch, and
by the lack of actions in our lips we're both lost for words right now.
"I've…done some research
at the hospital today".
"What did you
find?" I asked, hoping it's not anything too serious.
"At first I thought it
was a murder, but according to mom's report, the cancer cells prevented most of
the oxygen from getting to her brain" he delivered in a hurtful gaze.
"I know, but, for some
reason, I ain't got a good feeling about that report. You feel the same
way?"
"Yeah, a little, but she
did have cancer dad. Maybe it's because we're still upset that she's
gone".
"I don't know. I just
got a….weird feeling in my gut".
"You think someone did
it?" he asks in an urgent voice.
"I don't think so, I
haven't heard anyone come in, nor saw anything weird but….I don't know"
"It sounds like there
could be, we should check it out" he confirmed.
"Yeah, and I know just the person:
Larry".
Discovering this I raise to
head towards the door.
"Oh, I know he'll be
upset by this".
"Yeah" I agreed as
I opened it.
"He was like a brother
to her".
I stepped outside, but before
I go, I needed to remind my son of something important.
"Charles, make sure you,
take care of yourself. Okay? I don't want anything to happen to you
either".
He lowers his head in a
smile.
"I know dad, I know.
Believe me I'll be fine, don't worry".
Knowing he's listening really
brightens up my smile a bit. As long as he's taking it to heart, I know he'll
be alright.
"Be sure to tell Ashley
and the children I said hello, okay?"
"No problem dad".
CHAPTER TWO: THE COMEBACK
I pull across from a huge
office building on Market Street.
I gazed as its structure from my driver side window. Its two-story,
blue-marbled walls stood just below hundreds of floors populated with
tall-blue-tinted windows, making it not only impossible to see through, but
also a beautiful master piece of work.
I rush through the lobby,
brushing pass dozens of people until I reached the elevator. After I leave I
open his front door, and spot his secretary, Mrs. Kathern. She was scanning
papers until my presence interrupts her. I can't believe she's still sitting
behind that same large brown desk, still wearing those same large-reddish brown
glasses she had on when she first applied for this job seven years ago. She was
so shy and clumsy back than, it's good to see her looking more confident now.
"Hello Mr. Stark,
Larry's in a meeting. Would you mind haven't a seat".
Without a word, I take a seat
in the row of stainless-steel, blue-chairs by the front door. I gaze among the
diplomas and awards hanging all over his walls. His office maybe small, but his
reputation is not. Larry has handled the most top lawsuits in Philadelphia; even the case of my aunt Mary,
a lovely woman who supposedly died of a heart attack at the age of thirty-six
according to her doctor, Mr. Scotts. But when Larry dug deeper into the case,
he revealed that the doctor not only had an affair with her for several months,
but he also killed her through a secret, lethal injection to prevent her from
telling his wife. After hearing this, I no longer had the strength to hold back
the rage that was boiling inside me, and burst upon him like water inside a hot
pot. I didn't mean to shout and scream at him, it was just, this was my aunt, a
woman that always been there for me and my family when we needed her. And after
hearing about how she was taken away so mercilessly…I just…well…I don't want to
talk about it right now. He's in prison, and justice has been served. I just
hope he dies in there!
I check my watch. Eight 'o
three?! Wow, I've been here for thirty minutes already? I didn't know time flew
by this fast! Feeling a bit impatient, I stare at the tall, black-wooden-doors
closed to my right, where I can hear low mumbles creeping through the middle
gap. It's so low I can't make out what their saying, but by the seriousness,
its got to be something big.
Finally the doors open, and
out he emerges in a smooth, black Italian jacket covering a silk navy blue and
white striped shirt, black wool pants, and a buttoned up collar. His name?
Larry, and his trademark? White hair so slick back and well nourished you
would've thought he went to the hair salon. He cheerfully shakes hands with
three other businessmen surrounding him in suits. All three are heavy-set, each
having bald spots on top of their heads, and each also has grey and black hair
strains covering their sides. The only difference between these men are their
ages: The one on the left looks to be about fifty-five, the one in the middle
looks about fifty-two, and the last one on his right looks about fifty-four.
Their hands separate as they now exchange low conversations. Larry shares a
laugh like he's agreeing with them; but when he finally spots my gaze, his
smile quickly fades away from his lips.
An hour passed. The
businessmen are gone. The only people lingering behind those closed doors are
me and Larry. I'm slouching on this soft, cotton-black chair in front of this
long, black-wooden table. Larry's leaning against the teal-painted wall in
front of me, staring out the three large windows overseeing the city. Along
with him, my mind is starting to pile up as well: Was she really killed? By
who?...And why?
"I can't believe
this" he grieved, "I can't believe she's gone".
"That's why I'm here. To
find out why" I assured in a low tone as I raise my head. He turns and
pulls himself toward an empty chair in front of me. He takes a seat, and throws
his hands against his face, wiping it down as if he's trying to wipe away the
pain from his expression. It reaches his neck before dropping to rest upon his
lap.
"I need you to do an
investigation at the hospital for me. I think someone killed her".
I still can't explain this
feeling, but I trust my instincts, and right now, they're giving me the most
powerful rush of retaliation. But even as I'm ready to react, he raises his
head in dismay, as if he doesn't believe in any of my words.
"How did you know she
was killed?" he asked in a puzzling expression.
"It's a feeling. I can't
explain it…but I just know".
I look in his eyes, but can
still see a sign of doubt still lingering within him.
"Its true, I don't know
why, but I know someone's behind it. Trust me, someone in that hospital did
something, and I'm going to find out who".
His gaze stays the same, but
I keep mines open to optimism. Even though he didn't believe me, I'm still
going to find out anyways, with or without his help. I rise up and head towards
the door.
"Wait!" he shouts,
stopping my hand just inches from touching the knob. I turn around, meeting a
gaze that's finally showing he's starting to give in. He leans up and strolls
over, stopping just a few inches away.
"Well, if you believe
so, than I think I can interview the doctors for help. I can also gather up
files for you, but you have to be sure. I can't risk any mistakes on this
one".
"Trust me, you won't be
sorry" I assured.
He takes a breath, and
releases a smile that's starting to glow on his lips.
"Alright, I'll look into
it, but first, let me take you out to lunch, my treat".
"Thanks, but I'll take a
rain check. I'mma head home, and see what else I can find" I assured.
Once again, I step through
the front door and closed it behind me. I turn to face the living room, but
instead face the first object my eyes capture: the staircase. That's when it
all came flooding back to me. All those memories, of one of the worst days of
my life.
A week ago, I had to run up
stairs from the kitchen after Charles alerted me that something was wrong with Alice. I raced to a stop
at the bathroom's door-way and peeked inside; discovering her head leaning over
the sink as her hands tried desperately to hold her up. Her skin was pale, and
her forehead glistened with sweat, two things that really caused my heart to
race.
"Honey? You okay?"
I asked with frightened concern.
Suddenly she jumps up and
kept clearing her throat as she brushed her hair in the mirror.
"Yeah, I'm fine honey.
But I can sure use a glass of spring water from down stairs".
Her calm, light-hearted tone
still disguised something alarming. Even though she sounded confident, I could
still tell she was getting sick by the weakness in her voice.
"Alright, I'll be right
back, okay?"
I planned on calling the
doctor when stepped down the last stair. I raced pass the empty couch. Suddenly
a loud pound above stopped me in my tracks. In an instant I raced back up the
stairs, hoping it wasn't her and just a heavy object hitting the floor. When I
reached the arch-way, I literally felt my heart drop to my stomach. There I saw
her, laying face down on the ground with no movement, nor a sign of breathing.
"Alice!! Alice!!
Get up!"
I race beside her and turned
her over on her back. Her body still remained lifeless as her eyes remained
closed. I touched her neck, but no pulse. In a state of panic I glanced all
around me, but no phone was anywhere in sight. Leaving the only thing left to
do, yell, yell and hope my cries for help would hopefully bring us a savior
soon.
Suddenly a hand touches my
right shoulder, sending a shockwave all over my body as I turn in alarm. But
once my eyes catches the sight of Charles saddened brown eyes did my heart
start to calm, and my breath return its normal state.
"You okay dad?" he
asks, out of breath, but still gazing with the same fearful eyes. I really
appreciated my son calling for help when he heard my cries, but, for some
reason, something kept pulling me towards the hospital now. It's like my spirit
is shouting for me to head there quick, but without a voice. It's more like a
feeling.
"Yeah, I'm fine son, I
have somewhere to go. I'll talk to you later".
I wish I could stay and talk
to him much longer than this, but this expression doesn't seem to be fading. I
hope its right.
I walk through the electronic
doors of Jefferson hospital. The waiting room
around me is partly quiet do to more chairs being empty than full, and at the
front desk, sat two women who instantly catch my attention. The one on the left
is an old black-woman, with a name tag on the left side of her shirt.
