Daffodil Sprouts🌼

Ch. 50 ' Friends Fight.

Dad’s stiffening body is what makes me pull away. I'm resting on him, hence I notice. I raise my head in perplexion and look at him. At this moment, he wipes a handkerchief across his very dry face, which has suddenly gone pale. I turn around to see who he’s staring at and instantly regret doing so.

My eyes drop back to the ground immediately.

“Yesmi,” she calls.

It’s her voice. It’s not at all what I expect it to sound like. It’s not loud, raging and hateful like I had imagined. It’s broken, alright, but there seems to be joy in that tone. She called my name with a sigh.

My head stays bowed, as do my eyes remain shut, but since I have no way to deafen my ears, I'm forced to listen to the sound of her footsteps approaching. Which stops after a few steps. Save for the movement of medical personnel and noise from people, I don’t hear anything anymore, not for a long time. But beside me, Dad remains still, telling me that Mom is still nearby if not close.

“Go home.”

She sounds like a ghost of her former self. She sounds like a ghost. This voice is scratchy and dead and exhausted and shaky. Anxiety.

‘Go home?’

“Go home. You have to go home right now. I’ll . . . ”

“She can come with us,” Sam offers. “Mal and I are leaving now. We’ll drop her off on her way.”

There is a small silence, and then Mom says, “Thank you.”

Dad remains silent and unmoving. Is he not going to do or say anything about what’s happening?

As I start to hear her feet again, a hand wraps around my arm. “Let’s go.”

My eyes open then, helping me take in the sight of Mom’s back. Flat, sharp and cold.
She didn‘t talk to me.
She didn’t talk to me. Just like I envisioned.

She really really didn’t talk to me.

She hates me.

I grip Mal's shoulder to control myself and muffle sobs. Mal supportively rubs her hand on my back as we proceed. I continue to sob silently with my head faced down.

I’m so ashamed of myself. So ashamed.

This is what I was leaving for. I was leaving so a situation as bad as this wouldn’t happen. Why did this have to happen? Why did Jason have to do this to me? To us? Why couldn’t it have gone well?

How I wish I were in the terrifying plane rather than this terrifying reality. How I wish Jason didn’t come after me. How I wish I didn’t leave.

A cold gust of wind blows across my face, making me open my eyes which reveals the hospital compound. I take a long look back, amidst being pulled by Mal, suddenly having an intense urge to run back.

I didn’t even get to see Jason.

“Yesmi,” Mal calls, signifying for me to get in. She turns around to enter through the other side.

As my hand lands on the door pull, Sam who’s also about to enter, speaks for the first time. “You didn’t even think we deserved goodbyes.”

She turns slowly. “You didn’t even think we deserved goodbyes? Why?” she asks, looking at me with broken eyes. “Was it that tough? Or . . . are we that insignificant?”

I shake my head slowly. No, not at all. The shake pushes some teardrops out of my eyes. “No, it’s just that . . . I was going to call. I was going to call when I got home and . . . ”