MY FATHER IN COMA IS DRIVING ME TO COMA

Serena POV

The wheel of the car stopped after making a cracking sound that nutted my brain and screwed my ears, making me fold my arms after covering my ears with my ear.

“You asked for a flight with no words, and now here you are,” Dante said after locking off his seatbeat and looking at me with a slime smile on his face as if he had bought me the whole world.

I looked back at him as I was about to step out of the door, with no words but with a brown, old picture paper of myself and my father still in my hands and close to my chest.

I held my hand to the knob of the door to the car and I was right about to twist it open when a hand grabbed my hand on the knob from behind and leaned towards my back, “you don't appreciate favors right? This wasn't in the agreement. You don't have a dime to pay and your lips are too heavy to say thank you as well?” Dante asked and had his nostrils breathing to me.

My eyes were cold, my lips mumbling without an uncertainty of words. I knew I wanted trouble but not with him and not even right now.

I closed my eyes slowly to inhale his cologne, because what kind of man will wake up around 5:00am to have a random bath for the day.

Truth be told, Dante is neat, clean, gosh am I dreaming?  NOW I GET IT.. it's not a discussion for a time like this.

“Let me go!” I said at once in my shaking but brave voice.

“You won't admit but run along and meet me here when you are done seeing him” Dante called out, he removed my hand from the knob of the door, opened the door and said coldly, “run along and don't keep me waiting” he sniffed, “I don't want to wait for so long” he added after I stepped my feet on the floor of the gate of the hospital.

My mind came to a pause and my heart dimmed in fear, what if he is dead? What if he wont come back to me again, what if my dad has been badly injured.

Those were the last things I would want to see. Tears rolled down my cheeks, I sobbed, sniffed in like the most emotional handling woman on earth, had my tears wiped off with my left hand and my right hand holding the picture to my heart.

The fear of entering the Memorial general hospital is the beginning of wisdom because crying, waiting and emotions are inevitable.

Still standing a few steps to the car, I looked up at the boldly written name of the hospital and my eyes closed slowly, “God, can this be a dream? I want this to turn into our house and someone should wake me up from my negative delusional life” I said slowly.

Imaginations, legs shaking, eyes closed, mind erupted with fear of how I would meet him.. I looked up once again to the bold name and spelt out the last words crackingly, “hos.pi.tal”.

A lump crossed my throat down to my chest and this time, not thinking twice, I looked back to still see the black jeep with tinted glass standing behind me but no one to talk to.

Immediately, as I eventually wanted to turn my neck, I heard the words, “hurry in and face the fear” It was Dante but he was too smart to have locked in the car window so quickly before I finally looked back.

***

“I want to see my father” I called out to the nurse at the reception like I have been there multiple times before now.

“Sorry ma’am, you don't expect me to know who that is if you don't tell me his name” she said kindly.

I pulled out the old picture from beside me, I slowly showed it on her desk, “here! Look at him. Is he here? “Show Me where he is being laid” I called out slowly with low or no energy left in me.

The nurse looked at the picture, looked at me, scoffed, Smiled, pointed to the old picture and  said “I am so sorry ma, but you don't expect me to know who this man is through this old picture In front of me. Speak to me in plain language her voice cracking like a confused soul, then I will understand who it is you want to see.

I whined my eyes on her, leaned towards her desk and asked “Is he dead? Don't hide things from him, I am his only daughter and he is my father. He is the one right here in the picture and I am the one sitting on his lap here. I was such a little child here” I smiled bitterly as I pointed my second right shaky finger to the old picture explaining the story to the stranger nurse that seemed lost in the conversation.

The other nurse looked at me and whispered to her, “Tell her to write down his name” 

My eyes were decked in the picture and I looked up to both of them.

The other nurse cleared her throat and looked at me. “Let’s make this easy for the both of us ma’am” she seems to be looking for something. “I need you to write down his name,” she called out.

“Yes! I can write his name.. Give me a pen and a paper” I responded eagerly.

“Here. Write it!”  She asked.

“Richard BLAKE” I pronounced the name slowly as I wrote my father’s name on the piece of paper. I wrote boldly on the paper with my tears dripping.

Immediately the nurse turned the piece of paper to herself, she took a deep breath and looked at me, “You need to see the doctor ma’am. He is in a better position to explain the condition of this person” she announced and looked at the other nurse.

I looked at both of them and chuckled with a slight mumbling, “okay! Where is the doctor?” I asked.

I stared straight into her eyes, smiled like a weakling, my arms weak, the lump in my chest came back to my throat, “take me to his body. I understand and I can interpret body languages” I said with a firm voice but beneath it was a soul ready to burst the world like a balloon.

“ Not to his body but to the doctor’s office. After you ma’am.” The nurse came out of her desk and led the way.

Just coincidentally, a handsome man in a labcoat, a testoscope dangling on his neck, gloves in his hands and a worried look on his face. He came out of one of the rooms at the left and moved forward in the same direction as us.

“Sir, sir, she is here to see you” The nurse walked faster to meet up with the walking speed of the doctor and I did the same.

“See who?” the doctor asked and turned his neck towards us.

I slightly pushed the nurse slightly and hijacked the words from her mouth, “yes! Yes, I am here to see my father, his name is RICHARD BLAKE.. Yes Blake is his name.. He was…” my hasty but smooth words were interrupted by the doctor.

“Follow me!” The doctor led the way but kept looking at me from time to time.

We got to the door of a room, the doctor looked back and said, “you need to control yourself else you will spoil more than you can control later on”

What does that suppose to mean? My heart wandered.

It was true and thanks to him for warning me beforehand. 

Yes it was my father's body laying helplessly with so many pipes on him, but I need to confirm by moving closer to him to see if he is still alive.

Can I feel his breath?