Year 2005: Somewhere in the bottom of the ocean
Pain, was all I able to feel, like a cancer, pulsing through my entire body. And the headache was crashing my brain, far beyond the capability of my nine-year-old endurance to overcome.
For several unbelievable minutes that the pain ceased, only to find more than a few waves of intense physical agony surfacing later. Until the slightest of my will power to survive sunk deep into an unreal pit where I would never be able to find, but real, I gave up on living. How easy that seemed to be for me that time?
Half of my consciousness was dead though, and my whole body was paralyzed, not even an inch I could move. All I could do was to stare at the white ceilings above me with my vague vision.
My senses for time were completely lost, too. All I was certain of was there were three women in white dresses mumbling beside me, which I had spotted through the corner of my eyes. But my ears were too feeble to eavesdrop whatever they were saying.
And for a minute I thought, maybe they were angels. Maybe I was in heaven.
And for a couple of times too, I had nightmares. The kind of nightmares that I couldn't exactly remember all the vital details and events, as only a small little part of my mind was operating. And it was too weak to absorb everything in detail. But I was fairly positive that all of them had pinpointed me the same result, my death that was too surreal for me to believe in.
I couldn't even sure since when that I fell into a soundless oblivion, soundless enough that I was definite the pain had been uprooted from my body forever, promising warmth of the daylight and love of the great land on the morrow.
When I woke up, the drowsiness got hold of my body. I couldn’t really open my eyes. And I couldn’t really move. I could only feel my fingers and my toes. I was sure that the time had sped by, though I didn't know how fast it had accelerated.
Once I tried lifting my heavy eyelids, the daylight left my eyes even vulnerable, so strong that they wrinkled into a curved line, blinded my vision for a few seconds before a providential hand pulled the pastel curtain to cover the window, obstructing the shafts of scorching sunlight.
"You're awake. It's good to know," a soft voice said.
I glanced up, as the threat that harmed my eyes was gone, to find a middle-aged woman. Her straight hair was shiny gold, which merged with grey, ran down to her thin shoulder. Her skin was pale, and the side of her cheeks crinkled up as she smiled. She was wearing a nurse dress.
Stunned, I didn't know what to say. Plus, the dehydration was too severe that my lips were cracked, throat dry, voice completely malfunctioned to have brought up any words. And I was frightened, too, because of the unfamiliar face, because if it weren't her unimaginable voice, I would've thought that I was dreaming, or hallucinating.
"Do you need some water?" she asked again, discerned out my thirst as easily as my mum－just if I could remember. And there was a spasm of fear that fluttered though my veins because of that particular feeling.
I nodded my little head, was still too frail to speak. The moment I received a glass of water I gulped it down within the next second.
"Careful," she warned, still tender. Her softened eyes then fixed on me. "What's your name?"
And I wracked my brain for the subsequent moment. The simplest question ever and I had no idea.
"Where do you come from?" she questioned again.
I failed miserably to answer that too. All I was able to do in response was, painfully to me, nothing.
She squeezed enough space on the bed to sit down beside me, hands holding my little arms. "You don't remember anything?" And clearly, I didn't.
"Where am I?" I asked, a question formed by the ounce of calm I had that time.
Her hesitant gaze then found mine. "Before I answer it for you, could you tell me all of the things you remember, just anything?"
For a brief moment I actually thought I was going to depress her by my answer, but a picture flashed through my mind, and a short dark scene played in my head, I mumbled, "Car crash."
"And...anything else?" she raised her brows, blue eyes intrigued.
"I saw blood," I continued, drops of fear slipped out beneath my eyelashes, dreaded by whatever the scene would mean that still went on in my head as I tried to describe it lucidly. "Someone yelled...I crawled out of a car...and I fainted."
I could quickly form a quite connected link between the scene and what exactly happened to me. "There were people inside the car." Then another question urged. "Where are they?"
Her eyes startled before tentativeness impinged on her mind. "They're...far away now."
"How far they are?" I asked, of course, stupidly.
"Rather far, because...they want to have some rest."
And I couldn't believe that I was convinced with her stuttering reply. "Are they tired?" I asked doubtfully.
"Definitely."
"I feel like they're important, but I just couldn't remember anything about them?"
Her lips pressed into a hard line, so rigid that only a kid like me didn't realize behind it masked a lie. "Because you knock your head hard." This time, her voice sounded smooth as she tried to jest. She stroked my little head and my forehead that was bandaged. "Does it still hurt?"
"A little," I replied as cheerfully as my voice would allow.
"Don't worry, you'll get well, and start to remember things," she said. And I darted my doubtful eyes at her. "As long as you start to eat pills," she added.
So my face pouted and I thought I would rather die, right now! Then she left the ward after coaxing me to eat pills.
The whole day went on like that, bleakly. I had several mindless attempts to evoke whatever past memories that were leftover inside me, or sealed somewhere in my brain, or so I'd thought. But there wasn't any remarkable headway to cheer for after six hours of this now-mind-numbing exercise, only to diminish my faith, and to magnify my disappointment.
I didn't know who I was, and I didn't even know where I was, and I just remembered the nurse had forgotten to tell me where this place was, too.
So when the time she came into my ward again, coaxing me to eat pills, I questioned her about this place once more. But she side-tracked me. "Don't worry, you're safe now. You're going to get well," she said with ease, but certainly not for someone like me to hear.
I had a hunch that I wasn't belonged to here before, because the slang she used to converse, her skin that was overly too pale, and her blue irises and mine that I had contrasted with, and even the sky outside of the window that the pastel curtain had masked it. I wasn't so sure, because the sun wasn't actually moving, from the whole morning until now. Its colour only faded. And my old senses that I had about sun and sky told me that this was certainly something extraordinary, or even if possible, was I insane?
I realized it as I peeked out of the window due to the dullness in the ward, and also, irrepressible curiosity. And I was pretty confident that sun could move. Even now, I'm too.
As night closed in, I had my final glance outside of the window; I had drawn the curtains, revealing the bare window. And I still could see the dark sun, like a massive spotlight that was shut off temporarily, but I saw no moon, no traces of stars.
It was pure darkness, and the entire idea of where I was had me more terrified than I already was.
I pulled the quilt as high as it could reach to tuck myself in, until the warmth it rendered touched my nose I stopped. Eyelids drooped down to hide the fear I had upon this place. Still, tears slipped through the flawed gaps beneath my eyelids.
I was battling tears, the whole night...
ns 15.158.61.54da2
