Switched - 08

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"I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it." 

                                                                                           -- (City of Angels)

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Chapter VIII

I thought I was tough, but I thought wrong. I can’t even make a single knock. I just need to raise my hand, form a fist then tap the door. But there I was standing in front of Louis’ room as if waiting for the door to open for me. It was just a knock but I could not get myself to do it. A simple gesture that will answer the questions running through my head.

Minutes had passed but I was still there, staring blankly at the “Back off” sign hanging at the door. Undecided whether to knock or not.But I wasn’t that prepared to ask him all the questions that I have long wanted to be answered and so as I was not ready to hear the answers yet. Courage wasn’t by my side then. So, I turned and went back to my room.

When I woke up the next day, my head felt heavy and I found it hard to get up. I glanced at the clock and it was six a.m. I didn’t want to be absent nor late so I tried to stand up. But I found myself lying on the floor. Mom was at my room in no time and so as dad. Dad carried me back to my bed.

“What happened honey?” asked mom.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” I said lazily.

Mom placed her hand on my forehead to feel my temperature, “Oh my! She’s got fever. Go get some cold water and a towel Danny. And get the medicine on the cabinet.”

Dad went out my room. He was so hasty and stuff that I was worried he would trip like always. But he came back a couple of minutes after so I assumed he was okay. No harm done.

“I’ll call your school to tell them you won’t be able to go to your classes today. Stay on bed and don’t you dare do anything missy.” Said my mom.

I can’t even get up. What on earth will I be able to do in that condition? “You have nothing to worry about. I won’t do anything.” I just said.

She caressed my hair and kissed me on the forehead. “Rest. I’ll cook poridge for you.”

Yummmm. Crazy poridge. That’s what I hate with being sick. The only thing on the menu is poridge, poridge and some more poridge. “Sure. Poridge…….”

Mom and dad left me and it was a good thing that didn’t find it hard to sleep. Maybe I was really sick then that sleeping was the only thing I could do.

The first thing that caught my eye when I woke up was the rose on my study table. My body felt a little lighter and I wasn’t hot either, so I was able to get up. I reached for it and found a paper knotted on its stem. I untied it and read the note.

What I did meant no harm, Gel.

All I wanted was to make sure you’re well.

Those guys, I know were cruel.

If you think they weren’t, then you’re overuled.

God! How I wanted to talk to you.

Be by your side and laugh like we always do.

Tease you ‘till you get annoyed.

Then hug you ‘till you’re full of joy.

I wanted to bring back those seven years.

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