The Death of a Prince

Chapter 6

I bolted right up, cold embracing my temple and forehead. The digital clock beside me was screaming at its full potential like a banshee.

My sluggish hands motioned over towards the clock, allowing silence to envelop the room. I sat upright, a riveting pain rippling across my ribcage.

I strolled across to the mirror and admired the demon that has become me. I rubbed my temple and a curse flew past me. The same awful memory has been clouding me for a few months.

Why now?

My 5 'o'clock shadow wasn't doing justice to my menacing demeanour. Ring. My eyes darted in search of my phone.

"Hello,"

"Yes, what do you want Elenora?"

"It's Andrea, she is going into labour, you need to come," My heart sank, the perspiration now blanketing my body.

"I will! Where is she admitted?"

She told me the address and I rushed over. The damned dream made sense now.

It has been 20 years and still, the burned memory of my feeble beginning was acting in full vigour to present me this.

My wretched life was darkened ever since I saw my father's face in that hospital room about 29 years ago. The red light was testing my patience. That good for nothing scoundrel left my family destitute.

My brakes halted in front of the hospital and my legs heaved my shocked self in. The adrenaline was pumping right into my brain leaving no sense of worry behind. Words left my dry mouth as the nurse directed me to the labour ward.

I ran up the stairs with the little energy I held. My heart stopped as I saw mama and Elenora sitting near a room. She called out for me but all my ears heard nothing as I barged into the room.

A deafening cry rang across the room. She laid there, sweat grasping her forehead to her swollen toes. Two pairs of glazed hazel eyes glanced over to me, the creases of her eyes and mouth increasing, projecting her soft smile.

"Mr Raphael congratulations it's a boy,"