The Beauty and the Inked

Twenty-four: Disappeared

It's been two weeks. Two weeks of not hearing anything from him. I tried to call, but he wouldn't answer. I'm starting to think that maybe I had done something wrong. Or maybe... he's keeping distance because of what I had told him. But why? It doesn't make sense! Does my past really affect him too much, too much that he needed to avoid me?

"Yssa?" Jane's blue eyes were on me, "What's wrong?" she asked. We were seated inside the stock room. The four walls felt almost suffocating.

"She's asking you the same question like- every thirty times. Every day," Cher said, looking at me straight to the eye, "Rob did something, didn't he?" she asked, voice full of concern.

"Huh?"

"Did Rob make a move on you or something?" Jane placed her hand above mine. Why would they think Rob would do something stupid? Yes, Rob is a jerk but I don't really think he would go low. I shook my head in response for her question.

"Then why are you acting like a zombie or some robotic body?" Cher seemed to be annoyed with my non-committed interaction with them. It's obvious with her slightly hostile tone.

"I'm just tired," I shrugged. Not really wanting to open up.

"Oh yeah, tired," Cher scoffed. Her straightforward personality never ceases to impress me. But I'm in no mood to tell her.

"No, seriously. What has gotten in you? You're not like this," Jane gestured towards me, "You used to be bubbly and fun, but now- you look so sad."

"I disagree. Look at her," Rob butt in as he entered the room, "With that fascinating tight jeans and low cut top," he made a hissing sound, "She look so good," he said prolonging the 'o' than necessary.

"No one's asking for your opinion, asshole," Cher said, rolling her eyes.

"It's okay," Rob shrugged Cher's words. I think he's used to his colleague’s harsh remarks "Need a lift, ladies?"

"No, thanks," Cher said as she applied lip gloss on her thin lips.

"Thanks though, Rob," Jane was trying to be polite. But then, I know she is really nice.

"How about you, Yssa?" Rob asked me, and I shook my head in response, "Okay. See you ladies tomorrow," with another smirk on his face, he left the room.

I was just so not into making any conversation. I want to concentrate; I need to recall whatever I had done to make Zack disappear- yes. He completely disappeared without any notice. Why?

I miss him. This is really weird. Last time we were together, we were all cuddling and sweet. He even stayed the night. Maybe it is something I said when I was asleep... Nah. That's stupid. But I can't come up with any explanation of his sudden disappearance.

As my feet dragged me away from the library, my mind was still trying to process everything. Maybe he's done with you. Oh, well. The thought wasn't pleasant, but that's the closest to reality that I can think.

What. Is. Wrong.

I want to think of something else, something that is very far from touching that topic. Yeah. That's right.

Maybe I should go find a car? I already got my money, thanks to Bella. When I already got a car of my own, I can drive to the hospital anytime I want. Actually, I can drive anytime whenever and wherever I want. That sounds good. But looking for a car would be so much interesting if I'm going with Zack.

Ugh. Try to not think of him, Yssa.

I haven't talked to Andrei about his sister. I would love to teach her dance. Gee! I'm itching to be in a room with mirrored walls from ceiling to floor. Maybe I could bring Zack if I would be teaching Tatiana...

Do not think of him, Yssa!

Ugh. I give up. I can't take him off of mind. Even the most random things that I can think of he still invades it. It's exhausting to think of him all week long. Especially when he never tries to text back or even ring me up after hearing the voicemails. I had texted him a hundred times but none of it were answered. I already lost count of how much I tried to call him for the past fourteen- no, fifteen days. Why is he doing this? This is maddening. But I don't have the heart to be so. Well, this is insane. I am insane.

"Yssa, honey?" my mum knocked lightly on my door. Ugh, what does she wants?

I stir on my bed, but don’t acknowledge her presence. My back was facing her; I don't have any idea of whatever hell she was doing in my room. All I want is for her to leave me be and let me enjoy the silence in my room.

"Sweetie, you haven't eaten—"

"I'm fine, you can leave now."

"Yssabelle, I brought you dinner," she said. What part of 'you can leave now' was she was having a hard time to understand? "Baby, why are you so sad?"

"I'm not. I'm tired," I pulled my blanket higher, covering myself. How I wish shutting people out can make me shut my dolefulness, too. How I wish curling into a tight ball will make me less of a woe.

"Honey, if this is about Zack—"

"Don't," I interrupt her. She's in no place to tell me anything about Zack. She doesn't know anything.

Without saying another word she finally left my room. This isn't about Zack. I'm just tired, and there's a lot of going on. I'm too fed up with my own mixed emotions that I can't find my equilibrium to decide whether to sleep or not...

I tried to cover myself from a ray of sunlight. I forgot to let down the blinds again. It seems that each passing day, I lost conviction of doing small tasks. I'm starting to be careless and sort of reckless. I let out a deep sigh. This isn't right. What is it there to mope around? What is it that drives me down a lonely road? Nothing... I thought to myself.

Why would I feel sad for losing something that in the first place... was never been mine?

If Zack was sincere for being with me, then he wouldn't disappear just like that. I mean— if it was his intention to be with me or something. But... what made me think that he wanted to start something with me? How did I come up with the idea of him wanting to take our 'friendship' to a higher notch?! And friendship? We barely know each other!

Stupid!

I'm so stupid. He did not mislead me... or did he? Whatever. I'm so done with these stupid clouds that shadow me. I don't want to waste day acting like a dreary person.

"It's good to see you!" Logan greeted me with a warm smile. I felt welcome as I stepped inside my Dad's private room.

"Good to see you, too," I smiled. I never thought I would actually feel alive seeing a gleeful smile. My mood had lightened up a little, thanks to Logan.

"Guess you've been busy," he said as he injected meds to my Dad's dextrose.

"You've guessed it right!" I answered trying to sound as cheerful as possible. I sat to the chair next to my Dad's bed. The mechanical up and down of his chest was the only sign that he's still with us. The steady beeping of the machine filled the room.

Wake up, Daddy.

I want him to open his eyes. But my pleading won't do any work. There's nothing left, but the hope that one day... he'll wake up.

"Dr. Conrad wanted to talk to you and your mum," Logan said. His voice was much of a sad one which made my heart thud abnormally inside my chest, "It's best to talk to him sooner rather than later."

"Had my mom set an appointment?" I asked, never averting my eyes away from my Dad. His slightly parted lips were chapped.

"I don't know."

"I'll call her. Can you set the appointment later this day?" I asked. The inevitable talk has to be done, and Logan is right. It is better to deal with it sooner rather than later.

"Yeah, sure," he pat my shoulder then gently squeezed it. I want to lean on his arms but I don't have the conviction to move. I felt stiff as I processed what should I do. But one thing is clear, I have to be strong.

. . . .

"Good afternoon," Dr. Conrad said as he entered the room. I was standing at the corner while my mum was sat at the end of the bed.

This is it. Whether Dr. Conrad was here to deliver good or bad news... I have to be strong. I, neither my mum said any word as the doctor flipped through the pages of her documents, which I assumed is my Dad's test results.

All I can feel was the sweat on my palms as it jitters. My breathing ragged as I can't control the panic arising in me. I guess my mum feels the same as she clutch her bag tightly.

"We would want you to know that the chance of Mr. Pasco's recovery is in a very slim chance," the air in my body gushed out of me as the words slipped out of the doctor's mouth. What?

Logan re-entered the room with a sad expression, he knew this news. I feel like I need to throw up. My back hit the wall as I steadied myself, trying to keep myself from falling.

Slim chance…

"What does that mean?" the fear on my voice resonated through the now thick air.

"We're afraid that, by the end or maybe next month we have to decide for what's best," his voice was firm showing no emotion at all. He's used to these kinds of scenarios. That's why.

My mum was now on full tears as she clasped my Dad's hand between hers. No.

"You have to do something," I said. The despicable feeling of pain sears in me. Stay strong.

"His brain is still unresponsive, but we can't do anything because of the swelling which is due to the operation. If the swelling..."

My mind shut down. All I can see is my Dad's body, lying lifeless on his bed. I placed my hand to my chest... the agonizing thud of my heart against my ribs was there.

Why is he talking about how my Dad wouldn't survive this anymore?! He's a doctor. He has to do all that he can to make him safe!

Logan was already standing at my side. I haven't noticed that I was crying until the pad of his thumb caught the tear that leaked from my eye.

I would cry a river, just to make my Dad okay. This isn't happening. No matter how much I remind myself of being strong, the walls that I cling on still crumbles until it's powdered below my feet. Do all people suffer like this?

The rest of what Dr. Conrad said was addressed to my Mum. I was too drowned with my emotions which made me impassive. Ironic. This is too much. Since I got here, nothing good had happened. I'm always crying, feeling hurt, and empty. Life is f*****g me big time, this ruthless series of unfortunate events. Why? Why do I have to suffer so much in my life? Why can't I just live as normal as others does?!

Sure, people's loved ones die. We all die. But why mine is taken away in such a harsh way?! To the extent where I don't have the courage anymore to feel anything, because I know I'll be hurt again, and again, and again. It's a cycle that never ends.

To some people... After being hurt they will see the light and then they'll move on and get on with their lives. But in my case, I haven't yet feel a little healed and yet another cruel bump on my road will make me stumble. Why me?! Why my life does have to be a series of torturous events?!

"Darling, let's go home," my Mum's cheeks were flushed. Her blood shut eyes were on me.

"I'll stay here," I said, my voice stern. I was still standing at the corner.

She crossed the room with a slow pace until she stood in front of me, "Sweetie, I know how much you're hurting. I feel the same," she wiped her using the soaked tissue, "But we can't do anything but to hope that he'll wake up."

"You don't know how much I'm hurting," my lungs suddenly felt in fire as the air courses through me in and out. At least she had the chance to talk to him before the accident. At least she was there when he left to work. While me... I was far away. I was selfish. The gut-wrenching guilt that I feel right now can almost kill me right on this spot.

"Darling—"

"Please," I pleaded. I don't know what to tell her anymore to leave me alone, if it takes me to beg down on my knees I'll do it. I just want her to leave me alone, "Please, mom. Please."