Chapter 9: The Beginning

I was in the typical office to prepare the papers needed for Sarah to discharge from the hospital. The ambiance was admittedly comfortable even though I did not know the people working right here. 

When all the requirements were on my arms, I promptly fixed anything on the table then left. All medical facilities were busy yet maintained to give a clean and antiseptic impression towards the patients. Doctors and other medical staff greeted me with an approachable facade while I was passing through the hallway. And, of course, I nodded as a form of greeting them back. 

They were so welcoming. I felt assured.

All the vibes I experienced with them were intrinsically unchanged.

It did not take more than a minute when I finally arrived at Sarah's room. Her mother caressed her hair as she was sitting on the couch. Both of them were pleased as they had a conversation, verbal on the mother's side and non-verbal to both sides.

When they noticed that I arrived, the mother faced me with a delighted smile. I think she was happy to know that her daughter was awake and healthy. 

"Can we go home now?" She asked. I quickly nodded.

"Yes, right away." Then I handed her over the documents. 

The surrounding was too quiet, and because of this, I focused my attention on the woman's actions as she put the paper inside her bag. Suddenly, my eyes became attentive, and my forehead wrinkled when I noticed the bag that she was using.

It was just made out of a weave used papers with varnish on. I was wondering if this product is firm and long-lasting to use for a long time. And so, I asked, looking at that shiny object.

"Where did you buy that?" 

Mrs. Codache stop what she was doing. She stilled for a while before facing me. Her grimace was questioning me if I was serious about what I was asking. This made me wonder so much, and I can't keep being conscious of my own thoughts right now. Why was she looking at me like that? Was there something wrong with my question?

"Y-you were asking what?" The way she spoke those words in front of me was like an indirect way of saying that she could not believe my question.

"If you do not mind, I just wanted to ask where did you buy that bag of yours?" I clarified to her. I felt so dumb about what I was doing. 

Her back straightened as she let out a deep breath. "Oh! Well, my daughter, Sophia, made this one for me when it was my birthday."

I nodded at a slow pace while thinking of the reasons why she chose to use that bag. Well, I guess her response answers mine out of world question. 

I shouldn't be going through anyone's personal business.

I was about to say that they may go home now and bid goodbye to them, but Mrs. Codache added something. 

"And Sarrah loves seeing me using recycled pieces of stuff." She wore the red garnet-colored shoulder bag and faced me with a lifted head. She was proud. 

Well, at this moment, I got confused. I glanced at Sarah before looking back at Mrs. Codache. It was not about doubting Sarah's personal choices, but the thing is, she can't speak at all. I haven't heard her talking.

"How did you know that she doesn't like it? Did she even try using it? The bag is not durable." In an extreme sense, I asked. I did not even bother to think about what was going out of my mouth. 

A diminutive but sufficient smile was painted on the face of the mother. Her expression was saying that she already knew that I was going to ask those things. I mean, the thought of using that product instead of spending money to buy a more quality one. 

She put her right hand over Sarah's shoulder. Then she faced me again. 

"She cries every time I used factory products at a high cost, especially if it's made of leathered animal skin." She remarked. I looked at Sarah while she was just sitting down there, probably listening to our conversations. She expressed a joyful expression. Her eyes were sparkling, confirming what her mother said. 

It was quite impressive to think that a girl like her knows how to choose her own taste. Sadly, it wasn't a smart choice.

Aside from the things I have thought, the word 'leathered' brought nostalgia for a random cause, which I do not know the reason. That word seemed familiar, and I have this feeling that there was something in my thought that kept telling me about its enormous relevance somewhere in my life. My brain swiftly flashed some events that I can't clearly see. It was blurred. 

"D-doc, are you alright?" The voice of the woman brought me back to my consciousness. I shook my head and blinked my eyes for a second.


"You look dizzy for a sudden." 

I stood up straight, raised my chin up, and fixed my upper clothes. 

I exhaled and inhaled before letting out a deep breath. 

"Oh, ah..." I whispered in response. "Ahm, I think we should separate our ways," I added, reminding of Sarah's discharge.

"Oh! Sure!" She confirmed. Then she guided Sarah to stand by holding the daughter's arms, waiting for her feet to touch the ground. 

However, when Sarah's hand reached her mom's shoulders to prevent her from being unbalanced, I noticed that there was no wound at the back of her hand anymore.

My head quickly turned back to see her hand one more time after I shifted at Sarah's face. She wasn't in pain. The wound just disappeared with no traces of scars at all! 

Her hand was as flawless cotton white as snow. Not just that, I noticed her whole skin gradually shimmered with dewy radiance without any signs of visible pores. 

This made me blow up! I cannot believe what I just saw. My eyes widened and focused on that unnatural thing that happened. 

I glanced for a while at Sarah's mother to see her reaction, but it seemed like she did not notice what I've seen at all. Maybe because her attention was recently focused on fixing their things? At any rate, even though she might have focused her attention on those things, I still cannot believe that she did not give any glance at the situation at all. Or maybe, she really did not notice what was happening? I cannot tell.

Sarah glanced towards my direction, and I almost froze when she looked directly at my eyes. Her cheeks were fluffy as cotton candy. She was staring at me with beatific eyes.

Her lips did not show any emotion, which hindered me from analyzing what she actually felt.

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