Mia is Mine! [Marc Marquez] Fan Fiction

[Season 2] Part 11 - Why

You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it

If I could do it all again

I know I'd go back to you

Back To You - Selena Gomez

***

Here I am.

Standing in front of a hospital for children specifically for people with Thalassemia in Indonesia. Mia has been missing for weeks.

I thought I wouldn't be able to find it. But when I saw Alya's drawing paper, I knew where she was.

At least I'm sure she's here. This three-story hospital belongs to her. The only thing left was her, and she would never possibly sell it.

When I stepped into the lobby, I immediately had goosebumps all over my body. The image of the coffin being carried by several people passing through this lobby towards the cemetery in the area next to the hospital is very clear.

I seemed to see two people walking behind the coffin, hugging each other. Their steps shuffled while covering their mouths with one hand. That's me and Mia.

I can't blame my memory for recalling those sad moments. The feeling of sadness and mourning still feels very strong in my heart even though time has passed.

At that time Mia didn't say anything. She just kept crying and hugging me.

When Alya's body began to be put into the grave, I noticed Mia's face looking at the small body with confusion. I know, maybe it feels like she wants to jump into that hole too.

But she didn't. She survived. She looked at me, then leaned on my shoulder crying again.

Shovels began to be lifted to scoop up the soil, then bury Alya. Slowly, Alya's small body wrapped in a shroud began to disappear from view.

She's gone. But the memories are not.

Her memories are with me through the drawing paper she slipped in my jacket secretly. Unexpectedly, now it is my clue to finding Mia.

But what if Mia isn't here?

Where else could she be other than here?

I really didn't find any other answer other than this hospital.

I continued walking towards the hospital hallway. There haven't been many changes here. The walls are still colorfully painted. I knew it was a great attempt to dispel the somber atmosphere synonymous with hospitals.

But a hospital is still a hospital. The walls were cold, the mattresses would be a witness to whether the patient would live or die.

This hospital is like an orphanage. There are three times as many small children as adults. Apart from nurses, security guards and doctors, I hardly see any adults here anymore. Maybe they abandoned their children for transfusions, or maybe these children simply didn't have parents, and Mia accommodated them in this hospital as another form of her charity. I do not know.

For Mia's sake, I opened the rooms one by one to check. After knocking on the door, I looked inside. Starting from the patient room where there is only one patient, two patients, to the ward.

While in the ward hallway on the third floor, several boys aged around 5 to 6 years old were running around wearing shorts. I saw that they had plasters on their hands―certainly from a transfusion.

Then several nurses chased them. I smiled when I saw it, I felt like I wanted to help chase the little children too. But my task is not finished yet. I still haven't found Mia.