Searching For The Light

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I backed away putting as much space between us as possible. But, she kept stepping closer.

I glanced behind me to see that I was right at the edge. I couldn't back away any more, or else I'd fall. But if I didn't move, she was going to take it away from me. I couldn't let her do that! I needed it. It was my only hope!

I looked at her and whispered, "Look, just please, please, leave me alone. I'll give it back to them once I'm done, I swear!"

I cringed at how pathetic I sounded, pleading like a child. But I was willing to beg on my knees if that meant she would leave me alone.

She glanced at the leather clad notebook I was holding, "You think that stupid little book can save you? Nothing can save you! Nothing! I know it. You know it. Stop lying to yourself!"

She practically spat the last part. I couldn't help but flinch at her hateful tone. I was so used her kind nature that her nasty side made me forget that I knew this woman like the back of my hand.

I tightened my hold on the book and closed my eyes. I prayed to God, if He even existed, asking for her to just leave me be.

I heard her sigh. Then she softly said, "There is no hope for you. But since you don't seem to understand that, I'll make things a lot simpler for you."

She put her right hand over my heart, causing me to stiffen, and said, "I love you. That's why I have to do this."

I was confused about what she had just said, so I didn't notice her other hand pulling the book out of my grasp. I was so caught up in her words that I didn't notice I was falling, not till it was too late.

She pushed me right off of the edge, into oblivion. And where there is oblivion, there is emptiness. And like I had feared, that emptiness was consumed by all the thoughts I had pushed at the back of my mind. Now, I was going to drown in the waters of my own misery and self-loathing.

As I fell, feeling the sting of the cold winter air, I looked up and saw her standing there. She looked hurt and remorseful. Right before I plunged into the freezing water, I saw her mouth the three words I used to look forward to - the three words I cherished everyday till that last day.

I wanted to scream, "I don't deserve your love!" But it was too late. I was already drowning.

* *

I woke up gasping for air. I sat up and pushed my damp hair off of my forehead. My face was slick with sweat. A thought crossed my mind causing my breathing to become shallow. I hastily pushed my covers off and stumbled out of bed. I knelt by my bed side table and carefully opened the drawer. I sighed and slumped on to the ground, leaning my head against the bed.

I couldn't be bothered to climb back into bed, so I stayed there on the ground. As I drifted off to sleep, exhausted by yet another nightmare, I couldn't help but feel relieved. I still had it. She hadn't taken it away.

* *

When I woke up the second time around that day, it was thankfully not from a nightmare. Instead, I think I remember having a strange dream about dancing trees. It'd be nice to have normal dreams like that for a change. But there was no point thinking about things that weren't ever going to happen. In my life, 'normal' was overrated.

I stand up and cringe. My muscles are sore from sleeping on the hardwood floors. I stretch a bit and walk to the bathroom, grabbing my work uniform on the way.

After I finish washing up and changing, I head to the kitchen. There, I pop a pop-tart into the microwave oven and toss some strawberries and yogurt into the blender.

While stuffing all my things into my messenger bag, I eat the pop-tart. Then, I pour the smoothie into my travel mug and leave my apartment. Walking down the hallway to the elevator, I notice Mrs. Ember climbing up the stairs. It looks like she's carrying a month's worth of groceries.

That woman was going to give herself a heart attack someday. I sigh and put my travel mug and bag on the ground. Then, I take the groceries from her.

"Let me carry that for you. I wish you'd just take the elevator," I say to her while walking to her apartment.

"Oh, thank you, Jared. Always such a sweet young man. And don't be silly! What if it got stuck while I was in it?! Do you want me to rot away in a metal box? No, thank you. I'd much rather stick to the old fashion way and take the stairs. No risk of dying on the stairs," she replies while looking for her keys in her purse.

I wanted to point out that at her age, she could, at given moment, have a stroke and die. But, just as I start, she shushes me and says, "I just remembered! My granddaughter is coming to visit me in a few days! She's about your age, I think. She just finished her bachelors in Architecture, actually. But, poor thing is so busy being smart, she doesn't have a boyfriend! I say she should be looking into marriage before she loses her beauty. Oh! I know! You two should go for lunch when she arrives! Yes, that's a lovely idea."

By the time she's done, I've already put all the groceries in her kitchen. I force a big smile and say, "Of course. I'll see if I can take some time off of work."

Not that that was possible. Not with a manager like John. Last night, it had taken me three hours to arrange the entire medicine cabinet. After I had gotten home, I didn't have the energy to shower or eat, so I had gone straight to bed. And here I was, up at 6 AM for another day of work.

"Wonderful! Alright, dear. You go on then," she waves me off and heads to her bedroom. I leave her apartment, locking the door on my way out.

I do hope she forgets about this lunch arrangement, because I really wasn't interested in getting involved with anyone right now. But I couldn't tell her that. No, there was no use arguing with Mrs. Ember.

I head down to the parking lot, and go to my car. I get in and look at my watch. If I drive a little over the speed limit, I could still make to work on time. And that's what I'll do. I put on my seat belt and go on my way to the hospital.

* *

I walk into the hospital, sign the attendance register, and make my way to the young patients' ward. On my way to Mira's room, I stop at the pharmacy to grab her medicine.

"Patient staying in?" the pharmacist asks.

"Yeah. Mira Alvarez, room 319," I say and sign my name. Then, I grab the medicine and head to the elevator to go to the third floor.

Once the elevator doors open, I walk down the hall and around the corner. As I'm too busy reading Mira's prescription, I don't notice the person in front of me and so, I walk right into them. I look up to see Mrs. Alvarez. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are wet, both, I'm assuming, from crying.

"Are you okay? Is Mira alright? What's wrong?" I ask, growing more frantic by the second. Something must be wrong, as out of all the parents here, Mrs. Alvarez was one of the strongest I had ever seen. For her to shed tears, something must have gone terribly wrong.