Why was it that it always came down to the believers and their holy men? Whatever the belief may be, a sliver of the truth of this world or absolute nonsense, they attract the attention of them, but why? What purpose do their deaths serve? But what had they attracted this time? The strange lights pulsating, churning, they were not like anything that I have ever dealt with before. What could have made such lights? Bright, shining, twisting, like a bed of snakes, or perhaps was it more like tendrils? But more importantly, why did I not sense them? Creatures like that must posses great spiritual energy, their very presence should have disrupted the natural spirit flow from the entire city, did it happen while I was out of it? Yea that must be it.
"Ain't no rest for the wicked, ain't that right little bro?" Alexander slaps my shoulder and sits down by my side smiling joyfully like a successful scam-artist. "I guess I got to head out today as well" "Oh remember to pay a visit to mom for both of us, I gotta work to keep us both fed. I dunno just bring her some new flowers, I ordered a new batch some days ago and they arrived some hours before you woke, visiting hours should begin soon, it will probably be first light at the time you arrive" "Don't worry, I will, it has been some time since I have seen her too" "Do you want something for the road too? St. Olavs hospital is relatively far away, and you have that event to study too" "That sounds nice, what do you got?" jeez he's always such a busybody, but still, he's the best brother I could ever have wished for. "I got some classic czar salad and some nutrient bars, that reminds me, I got to go shopping for groceries later as well, will you be good with that?" "I'll get myself just that and some bottled water thanks" "Coming right up".
The rustling from my backpack disrupts the silence of the night, it's vibrations tickles my eardrums. The flowers whistle and gives off a sweet scent, how much would it matter doe? Even if mom woke up from that vegetative state? I love her but she would not be well, best case if she did wake up and worked through her problems, she would still be wheelchair-bound for the rest of her life, she had always as I remember been a dutiful mother, one who worked to keep everyone pleased, a busybody just like Alexander, being a burden would kill her. But why did it even happen? In all these years it just didn't make any sense. I hope she wakes anyhow, we all need her, if it is anything I can do to make it easier if she wakes, I swear I will do it.
There was no buses going at these early hours anyway so I were left to wander, taking in the sights the night had to behold. Birds chirping in low hums before the orchestra of the morning hours, small rodents scavenging the unoccupied streets looking for some scarce leftovers, the moon diving down into the embrace of the deep and blue ocean before perpetual rays of the morning sun would sweep across the city flipping the scene. In the darkness of night, there could indeed be beauty but the core always laid in the perpetual change, the never-ending cycle of night and day.
The first light as predicted hits, as I arrive outside of St. Olavs hospital. Its grand stature was something of its own, perhaps that is why this wave of solitude washes over me each time I come here. The doors are still closed but in due time an employee would open its doors for visitation and unending service, it makes you think, why do hurt and pain exist? Why is it as perpetual and unavoidable like the sundown and the sunrise? Why must such a stain exist in a world with so much beauty? Is it just one curse that cannot be broken?
The long hallway on the third floor of the eastern wing is lit up, so clean and sterilized. Her room was just up ahead to the left, my fingers curl up and tense as I push the door open, a few of the crimson flower petals hit the floor as it swings open revealing the room she's had for the past nine years, shes there in the bed, inanimate and still as she was when she was found all those years ago, the light of the machine blinks, the waves indicate life but inn a deep sleep, one she might never wake from at all. On the nightstand there's flowers, shriveled up and withered, it had truly been some time, after all, her face is way slimmer and with a restless look, nothing like the mother I remember, "I just wish you could tell me what happened that day, just wake up again soon... alright mom?" Tears? How long had I held them in? Why now? Why will she not wake?
I get up and put the new flowers in the vase of the nightstand, i look down at her face again as the hours seemed to drag by. As my tears finally begin to dry I get up to say goodbye, leaning over the bed, putting my lips against her ear and whisper "We all miss you mom, please wake up soon". The door creaks slightly behind me and I feel two hands tear me away from the bed, "why are you even here you freak? Get out", father, it had been so long, his hair had more grey stripes then I remembered, "I was just about to leave, me and Alex changed the flowers", his anger seemed to just slip one bit, his stature was shivering, was he about to cry? "I see, red chrysanthemums she loved those, it's so like Alex, but you do know it is all your fault" he rose his voice again "NONE OF IT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED! NONE OF IT! YOU HAVE BEEN A WALKING POX ON THIS FAMILY!", shaking again, force fading from his voice which faded to whimpers "Just get out will you?".
The slight breeze outside of the hospital walls were calming, I could not blame dad too much for his feelings, because I know myself that I'm partly to blame, just like a holy man and his congregation, I attracted them too, I don't know what was at fault for making mom like this, but I knew it had been there because of me. Tears again? Running like streams they just will not stop, just goes to show how important it is, I must find these cursed beings and end them, change the world of so many if I have to. Then one day these tears will dry up, but now I got to find the cause of the light and the ever so early judgment of a local congregation.
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