Casket of Lights

Chapter 13 : Crossed Fates

Rossé Lilybeth's POV

A ray of sunshine touched my skin that made me growl. I fought the urge to open my eyes, as I felt that my eyelids were too hard to open. As I gently opened my eyes, I looked heavenward and observed the fluorescent bulb emitting a light blue color as it reflected to the white tiled ceiling. Everything was dead quiet to the point that you could hear the air condition of the hospital. My body felt so drained to the point that I had force myself to move but could not. “Water,” I mumbled.

“Let me,” Redhair’s voiced echoed around the four corners of the room as he instantly went to the nearest water station inside the hospital beside the position of the television. I mumbled thanks as Redhair supported my back to sit while drinking.

After drinking the whole cup without a pause, he looked at me at my eyes; eyes beamed with curiosity. He walked at the nearest cabinet and pulled out the diary from Churchill’s house.

“I kept it while you’re asleep,” he said. “Don’t worry, I did not read that.” He patted my head as he supported me to lay again at the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” A line snapped between his brows that made me creased my brows.

“You’re overreacting.” My soft chuckles lingered through my ears and continued, “I’m fine, wasn’t I?”

Stan’s face clouded with worry. “If it was not for Stan…” He took a long breath before he added, “perhaps, I’ll lose you.”

The fact that it left me astray for a while was more unsettling. Should I trust your words, Redhair? Watching him flashing a genuine smile made me feel guilty that I had to trust me and myself only. Surely there must be a deeper reason, I had to conclude.

I blew a sigh as I saw myself wearing a blue hoodie sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants with a thin white hospital gown that made me scrunched my face upon looking at it. As I felt a sudden pang of pain at my stomach, I instantly gazed at it. There was a new scar formed in that area. I wanted to touch my feet at the cold white floor, but my body would not even dare to move, limiting my movements. “Where is he?”

“Stan woke up a couple days ago.” Redhair pinched the bridge of his nose and walked at the nearest table, grabbing a piece of black scrunchie.

“How long was I being asleep?” I asked. I was caught off guard when he leaned towards me as went to my side as he combed my hair using his hand as he fixed my dyed hair, making it into a low ponytail. “A week?” he added.

“Wait, what?” My jaw went slightly agape as my brows snapped in a line. “You’re kidding, right?” Confused, I looked at him. “It felt like a day.” I blurted.

He stood at my side, hand inside his pocket. “Why would I lie?” He raised his left eyebrow as he stared directly at my eyes. “Do you want something to read or anything?” He asked.

“Can I have a potato chips instead?” My eyes beamed with light as the corners of my lips turned up.

He patted my head as he flashed a wide smile and in a stern voice, he said, “No.”

I prevented myself to curse in front of him as my body felt so weak from my sleep. The thing is as I grew older, the more the limit ourselves to different possibilities, would make us regret the things that we should be conserving and doing during the present.

A sudden knocked at the door, made both of us tilted our head to check who was the visitor. I was surprised when it was a guy, probably in his forties looking bulky and clean, wearing his stethoscope at his neck, wearing white and clean.

“I’m glad your awake. I am Doc. Steve, how’s your feeling?” His smiles were contagious that made me smile too. But as I shifted my gaze at his side, I saw a pale tall girl in his side, wearing the smile the same at him. “Karen, check your vitals,” he instructed.

I glanced at Redwood who instantly looked away as he stepped aside from Karen. Karen glanced at him briefly, making her more cautious, rapid breaths. I squinted my eyes at them, analyzing if my intuition was right. Karen could not even look Redhair straight in his eyes while Redhair was still catching glimpse at the sight of her. I turned away and just focused the small snowflakes that was dancing at my window. Was it weird or am I just being engulfed inside paranoia?

Her long, dark, eyes glanced down at her watch and she softly asked, “I’ll check your vitals, okay?”

I nodded as a response, still thinking. I glanced at her as she measured my blow pressure as well as the dextrose attached at my hand. Out of the blue, something slipped from my mouth. “Can I go out now?” I paused for a while, looking at Dr. Steve who was left off guard. “I slept for a week. I should be okay, right?” I wondered.

“No, Ms. Lily.” Maybe a couple days after you rest, then you may.”

Disappointed, I breathed in. "Alright," I uttered.

“Take a lot of fluids and try to eat gradually. I’ll check you from time to time,” Dr. Steve added before flashing another smile as he turned his back at us. “Red, let’s talk outside.”

A chill ran down to my spine upon hearing the name ‘Red’. “You both know each other?” Redhair flashed an awkward smile before pivoting his feet.

Surprisingly, it seemed that it had made me transported into my swirling thoughts like a hurricane. It left me a hollow feeling, curious sensation that made me feel so transparent and clueless at the same time.

I glanced at the windowpane; snow was gently falling. But no matter how I lay, it was as if there was a small wave inside the bed at made me feel uncomfortable that made me continue tossing and turning, finding a good position to sleep. Finally, I have the urge to give up to my quest to have comfortable place and decided to look for something to keep my mind off the edginess that I was feeling.

As I gazed at my surroundings, all the furnish were all white, the walls, and even the pillars of the room. As I looked up, the ceiling was composed of white rectangular shape marble that made me smile at my place. I began counting the rectangles from the back to the front. Ten. Then I counted them from the left to right of the room. Ten. Somehow this fascinated me so much that I forgot that I am the only one inside this room that temporarily forget that I have a dextrose at my hand.

I went back to my senses as I heard three consecutive knocks. “Come in,” I yelled, trying to shift my position to see the visitor. My face lit up when I saw Stan wearing a black hoodie trying to hide his stomach belly, wearing his prada boots with a plastic container in his hand.

“Ya’ good?” He asked, placing the plastic at the wooden table painted in white.

I nodded as I replied, “Yeah. The book…” I paused for a while, passing it to him. “I haven’t read the whole content yet.”

A week has passed and yet it was as if all events just happened yesterday. I could still feel the adrenaline that I once felt when I encountered him. But I could not recognize his voice nor his looks. I felt so hopeless for a moment.

His expression closed; his left eyebrows turned up. “Just take ya’ rest.”

“I am already resting.” I looked at Stan who was busy facing the table, grabbing a chair as he was filling up his paper works. “This ain’t your office.” I laughed but he just gave a dismissive wave that made me cracked up.

"Busy filling up ya’ information, that’s a pain,” he blurted. Just as I was about to tell him my exhilarating news about the rectangles on the ceiling, I realized how ridiculous it was, so it backed fired across my mind and just dissolved into thin air.

My smiles dissolved as I gazed at his neck. “Stan, are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, biting my lower lip. “It has been a week, yet it was still there,” I uttered as I pointed my index finger to his neck. “Now, you have another bruise at your hand.”

Silence filled the air but minute later, Stan broke the silence. “I was dealing with some robbery and I accidentally slipped then it happened.” He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and proceeded in writing, filling up several pages of paper.

“Are you sure?” I asked, eyes gazing back and forth at his neck and his hand. The consistent red and purple color was evident at the bruises as if it was replenishing its color, unlike some other bruises that instantly healed within a week or two.

His nose crinkled and uttered, “Hell ya’!” He extended his hand as he grabbed a can of coffee at the plastic beside him.

“Alright then.” I wrapped my arms around myself and saw that it was already three in the afternoon. “How about the masked man?” I asked, shifting back my gaze at him.

“We had checked the cctvs around the area but after we arrive, it was all deleted.” He paused writing for a while, tapping his ballpen at the table that was making a soft noise. “It was strange. Aside from that diary you had took, nothing was missing,” he said, nodding at his thought. “Do you recognize him?” He asked, shifting his gaze at me.

I glanced heavenward, biting muy lower lip as I tried to recall that day. “Barely, his voice was being recoiled as if there was a voice simulator inside his mask.”

“Have he seen ya’ face?” Stan added.

I shook my head and said, “No.” My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, thinking the possibilities that he could recognize the way I sounded and my physical attributes. “Just my eyes.”

He nodded as if he was still part of investigating something. “Have you eaten?” he asked, diverting the topic as he closed the cap of the ballpen.

I scrunched my face. “A bit, their food was bland, and it sucks,” I uttered, trying not to roll my eyes.

He chuckled for a while and grabbed something on his black bag. “Don’t tell them I gave ya’ this,” he said, as he extended his hand, giving me a bag of potato chips. “Just do ya’ thang.”

“You’re the best!” I yelled and let a deep sigh as I moved. My restored motor functions were becoming mobile again. I griped at the cold metal stand of the dextrose as I practiced myself not to slam into the floor. I glanced at the radio beside my bed and started turning it on. The chirp of the static began as I clicked the power button. It was jazz, felt calm into my soul. “Should I tell, Redhair, about this?” I asked.

I stretched my arms as I stood up, slowly walking, a hand in a dextrose stand, moving towards the door labelled bathroom and opened to find a small, confined space with a toilet and sink. I quickly opened the faucet and let the cold water revitalized my free hand. I ran it across my face that slowly numb my lips and cheeks. When was the last time that I took a bath? I went back with my face dripping wet and searched for a piece of clean cloth. I was about to pivot my feet when I saw Stan, hands at his hips, glaring at me.

A line snapped at his eyebrows. “What do ya’ think ya’ doing?” He asked as he leered at me.

“I just washed my face,” I said, heart pounded fast as I waited for his next reply.

Somehow, I pondered, was it okay to be dependent for the people around you? Would it save you from your demons and your doubts? Maybe it was a human attempt to question everything as well as the trust that you would give to others. I took a deep breath as I dragged myself slowly back at the bed. I walked towards him, wiping off the beads of water from my face. “Should I trust, Redhair? I asked as I inspected him.

Stan took several minutes before he said that made me glued at my spot; eyes locking at mine. “If ya' want to trust him.”