13 Bed rest and Sal

    The voice sounded so familiar, but my eyes, they were not seeing right, and my body, I can't move. I heard footsteps, a number of them. Soon I felt an arm on my skin, and someone talking softly, it was a man. "Robin... Can you hear me?" His hand was holding something...something bright, I blinked, then I heard cheers from somewhere from where I was. I felt tired, so tired that without me realizing that I had already succumbed to the call of sleep.

    When I woke up my sight was better, I can see things around me clearer and to my surprise beside my bed was -- good God no! To my horror, it was Michelle. I closed my eyes and opened them again just to be sure that I'm not dreaming, sadly I wasn't.

    "Robin?" she said softly as she looked over at me. I nodded, "can you talk?"

    I tried to move my mouth, I couldn't, I shook my head, to my relief, my head and neck were working.

    "Arms?" she asked again, I tried it, and they do, well at least one of them, for my left arm was in a cast. "Can you write?" I assessed myself, I nodded. She was quiet once more, just looking at me with those red puffy eyes; I wondered how come she was here. However, before I could do anything a doctor came in. He looked at me, and asked me a few questions but all I could do was shake or nod my head. The doctor asked me why am I not speaking and I gestured that for some reason I couldn't make myself talk. A look of concern came over his face and asked his nurse for a paper and a pen. Again he continued to ask.

    "What do you feel on your mouth? Can you move your lips?"

    I can feel my mouth and my lips, and I can move them, but I can't make words, I wrote.

    For a moment he pondered, wrote something in his clipboard and looked at me, "It must be muscle trauma, traumatic mutism of sorts, your body might still be in shock and as a result you can't speak." The doctor seemed to be talking to the clipboard than to me as he said those things, "we need to get your therapist here to assess your condition thoroughly."

    I nodded, and as the doctor left I felt Michelle held my hand, then something warm fell on my hand, a tear. I looked at her face and saw she was crying but smiling.

    "Thank God you're alive", she said sobbing, "Chris called me, and said that you were in a comma, I couldn't believe that something like that happened to you."

    I watched as she cry and gripped my hand telling me things that I couldn't believe that I'm hearing. I pulled my hand from her grip and wrote on the paper.

    What are you doing here? When did you get back?

    "Robin, you've been in a coma for a month. Your grandfather just went home and I took over today. I got back just last week."

    A month? What happened? My head is racing, my heart was pounding, I couldn't accept reality.

    The next few days were spent in silence since I was unable to utter words, but inside me a fire was burning, because I know what I saw the moment before my accident, the Demon wants me dead. I watched silently as people took care of others and walked around me. My grandfather regaled his tale of relief in my survival because he was afraid that he was going to lose me the same way as my parents, he said he will never let me out of his sight again - I highly doubted it. Chris was also happy that I was alive. He can't believe how unluckily lucky I am, since I had far too much "accidents" in the span of six months, naturally all I can do was smile. Dr. Ian hasn't come to see me yet, it was understandable of course but grandpa said he was to come by anytime. Finally there was Michelle who never visited the same time as the others, she would always look after me during the night, yet her presence in the hospital was unnerving - in a statement - I don't like her in the hospital. Why? Simple answer is Annie Villafuerte, I don't know why but it just is.

    Two weeks in bed, I still couldn't speak. My doctors had been doing their best to get me back to normal,  but somehow nothing works yet, and my therapist hasn't been able to see me as well. I wasn't feeling hopeless but I'm not exactly hopeful. One of my doctors suggested that I should be introduced to a sudden jolt of pain just so I may be forced to talk, like pinching and the sort but I was under morphine most of the time that I couldn't barely feel pain. The accident has really did me in, through my two weeks I felt detached from the world, my sleeps were sometimes drug induced that I went into deep sleep almost instantly - they were all because of the injuries that I have sustained and had caused me a lot of pain. Through my two weeks, I wasn't been able to see Annie Villafuerte, not in my dreams or in anything, and for the first time in my lifetime I didn't dream of hell. Somehow I was happy, but a part of me was not. Then one night I woke with a jolt, and on the foot of my bed stood Dr. Ian; he wasn't smiling.

    "Robin, can you hear me?" I heard his voice then nodded. Upon seeing him my head is suddenly filled with questions, but I couldn't speak.

    "I read the doctor's report--crash!! His words were cut short by a loud crashing sound coming into the room, it was Michelle but there was something strange about her, however, before I could put my finger on it, her skin turned dark and her eyes burned red. I watched as she changed right before my very eyes, Michelle turned into the demon. She was looking at me, cursing me. She sprang towards me but before she could reach me, Dr. Ian pulled something out of his jacket and threw it to the demon, in a split second glance I saw it - it was salt. The demon laid on the floor writhing in pain, its skin burning, its slimy words came out, "I'm going to kill you Traveler!", then turned into smoke, the smell of rotten eggs filling the air.

    I swooned and just like that I lost consciousness.
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