Lesson 13 Memories from a bedridden man

I woke up from the hospital bed yet my eyes were too heavy to open on their own. I tried in vain to move my fingers, not even one after numerous tries. When did it all happened, how did I ended up here? The pain in my stomach sent cold shivers up my spine. I couldn’t, I wanted, I hunger to stay up or awake but the fatigue or lack of food and nutrients, whatever the nurses should give me. They are insufficient.

I remembered the time long ago when I was a baby or a toddler. Fear. Fear of death, of drowning, someone had placed me in a tub of water. I struggled to breathe and float by instinct admits the bewildering laughters of adults.

I remembered the warm sunlight where I bathed in with the chirping of birds and the welcoming scent of grass, flowers and fruits. I remember hearing someone or something singing sweet melody when there is no other people except me. A tune ethereal yet familiar. And I, I am part of the nature yet at the same time, of this world. A feeling I kept from telling others. I remembered the bite of a snake, the fangs that pierced my skin. The burning sensation of it coursing fast up my veins and me hurling it away. And I heard screams of my mother blocking others while pacing herself round and round screaming yet doing nothing to save me. And my grandmother came to my rescue instead. And the hospital nurses saying, “you again? A&E is not a club that you frequent on paramedic’s stretchers.” How I wanted to lift my middle finger at her but I was too weak to do so, like now. Then I remembered, how I shielded dear Elara from the explosion. I should have asked her to be my girlfriend. I wonder if she was hurt. And oh, the sobbing I heard was from her. I wasn’t alone then, in this hospital bed.

The last thing I heard was,” I am sorry, so sorry. Roland, I should have asked you to be my boyfriend. And…and not light a fire in that damn kitchen!”