I'm half stuck in a dream, half stuck in what seems to be reality. There are voices in the hallway leading to my room, hushed yet hostile with anger. I recognise one as Nichole's, so the other has to be Dad's.
"You need to take him to the hospital, Rory. He needs to see a doctor."
"Don't be stupid. It's just a cold. If he hadn't been so dumb to stay out in the rain—"
"I don't mean for the fever."
There's a pause. I breathe out through my mouth.
"What do you mean, then?"
"I'm sure you know exactly what I mean."
There are boots pounding on the floor. He's walking away. "No. Shut up. You don't know a damn thing. He's my son. My son doesn't need to go to no damn doctor. He never has and he never will, you got it?"
"I know you can see that there's something wrong—"
"Stop."
"—with him and I know you're worried—"
"Shut up."
"—but he's not right, Rory. You've got to face it now before it's too late—"
Slap.
The sound resonates throughout the trailer and rings in my ears, causing a dull ache to form at one side of my head. Everything is deadly still for minutes on end.
Inhale, exhale. Why is it so hard to breathe?
"He's my son, and my son isn't seeing no damn doctor," Dad says one last time, and then I go back to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Disequilibrium
Mystery / Thriller[A psychological thriller] When you can't even pay for a bottle of water, you might want a friend like Casper. This may be hard considering he's the God-given prophet of Seabrook high; the type of kid who offers existential philosophies on a Monday...
