PTSD or Prophecy?
1067 Words
My brows furrowed slightly when I saw the motorcycle Cassiel was riding this time. It was different from the one he usually rode.
To my surprise, it was an Arch bike, the same kind that appeared in my dreams. It was the same kind of motorcycle that had once appeared in my dreams.
Was that really just a dream? Or did I actually have a vision?
"What did you tell your neighbor?" Cassiel asked, snapping me out of my brief reverie.
I shook my head awkwardly. "I told Ray I'd be out for a while so he wouldn't worry. I said you were a friend."
"Mate?"
"Why do you keep saying that?" I frowned again. "Weird."
Cassiel chuckled and handed me a helmet. "Come on, let's go."
"Where exactly are we going?"
"You need a place to stay, right? Then come live with me."
I stood there, confused, staring at Cassiel.
He was aware of Mr. Lee kicking us out and the garage fire. It was strange that he found my apartment through a few people near the shop because there weren't many people who passed by that area.
Cassiel's offer was exactly the help I needed. But suddenly, the thought of Daniel flashed through my mind. Fear crept through my veins.
I quickly shook my head. "No, I can't. I'm staying with Dad. What would he say if I lived with you?"
"Just tell him you're mine. Simple, right?"
"Brutal."
Cassiel flashed his charming smile and patted the seat behind him. "All right, then. Let's find you a decent place."
I was still hesitant. I didn't want to cause trouble with Daniel. I had promised to stay away from Cassiel.
Yet, the strange thing was that Cassiel's presence always made me feel safer. To me, he was like an angel: A grumpy one, at that.
"No, I don't want to burden you anymore," I said.
He let out a sigh. "Did Daniel say something to you? Did he tell you to stay away from me?"
"He didn't threaten me; he just asked. To be honest, what he said kind of made sense."
"Oh, so now we're talking about what makes sense? I don't think you even know what that means."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
Cassiel shook his head. "You wouldn't want to know."
I didn't quite understand what he meant. Was he speaking metaphorically, or was he just rambling?
No matter how strange his words were, though, they triggered something in me. There was always something about him that drew me in.
My phone vibrated, and I quickly answered when I saw "St. James Hospital" on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Miss Underwood. We wanted to let you know that your father has regained consciousness. But we've got a situation here."
"A situation? What kind of situation?"
"Perhaps you should come in."
A bad feeling hit me like a wave as I ended the call. I turned to Cassiel, who patted the backseat again.
"Hospital?" he asked. I nodded. "Then let's go now."
Once I got on the bike, Cassiel sped through the streets.
A strange sensation washed over me—touches, breathless gasps, and the scent of cedarwood and fig on skin. Then, I saw those eyes, like Cassiel's, but the look was different.
Lips locked in passion. Flashes of memories I couldn't place flickered through my mind.
Why did I feel this hidden desire? Was I losing my mind?
We arrived at the hospital quickly. I ran ahead, my heart pounding, and rushed to Dad's room.
Inside, nurses and a doctor surrounded him. The moment he saw me, his pale face lit up, and he reached toward me.
"You have to leave," Dad croaked.
"Dad?"
"Selena, they'll catch you if you stay here. You have to go. Go far away."
His weak hand gripped my wrist.
Selena?? That's Mom's name. He looked at me, but it was as if he couldn't see me. What happened to him?
"But, Dad, it's me, Lune. I'm not Mom."
"Go, Selena. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you..." Dad suddenly burst into tears. "I'm sorry..."
Then, his body started convulsing. He was having a seizure.
"Dad! Dad!" I tried to hold his hand, but a nurse pulled me away from the bedside. "No! That's my dad!"
"Miss, please! Let us treat him!"
I stumbled into the hallway and collapsed against the wall. I could hear the doctor giving urgent instructions from inside.
"Please...save him. Please, save my dad!"
"Lune?"
I looked up. Cassiel was already crouched down in front of me.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I don't know. Something's wrong with Dad. They kicked me out because he suddenly started convulsing."
Cassiel gently pulled me into his chest. "It's okay. They're treating him now. Don't worry."
I broke down, crying in Cassiel's arms and releasing all the pent-up emotions in my heart.
"I don't want to lose him, Cassiel. I don't want anything to happen to him."
"We'll make sure he pulls through. Your dad's a fighter, right? Just like you?"
"I hope so..."
Cassiel cupped my cheeks. "Your father has fought this far. I believe he still wants to live for you and your happiness. Trust him, Lune. Believe that he'll make it."
The noise from the room quieted down, and soon after, the doctor stepped out. I jumped up and ran to him.
"How is he, Doctor?" I asked anxiously.
"We need to perform an MRI scan, Miss. His memory seems scattered; it could be a sign of dementia."
"Dementia?" But he's only turning fifty. He never showed any signs. He was fine before this."
"Yes, it's more common after age sixty-five, but it's not unheard of in people in their forties. I understand it's too early to draw conclusions. It could also be related to his recent coma. There are many factors."
"What about the seizure?"
"That's what we want to determine with the MRI. We want to see if there's a neurological issue involved."
I feared that what was most about hospitals was that every illness was revealed. When that happens, it's as if people lose the will to live.
To me, hospitals have always felt like places where death lingers.
"Do it now. Do whatever tests are needed. I don't want any more delays," Cassiel suddenly ordered.
"Yes, there are procedures we—"
"I said now! Whatever it costs, I'll pay."
- Writer
