Chronicles of Flames

Six 🔥

The first eye flickered dreamily. The second followed not long after, responding to the stimuli of the world much faster. Both blinked simultaneously, rapidly, trying to adjust to the lighting.

Finding a recognizable focal point—the fancy, white depression in the decked ceiling,—the lilac orbs settled.

The next sensation she felt was pain. It hit her so suddenly. Searing, hard, raw pain that originated in her head and spread like tendrils of a lightning bolt to the rest of her body.

It seemed also that moving her body was a grueling task for hard as she willed it to, her hand wouldn't respond when she tried to lift it.

She was aghast; her mind, agitated. Even though the pains pounded, she remembered close to nothing.
She looked around, trying to get a rough idea of her bearing and location, darting her eyes in every possible angle as it was torturous to turn her heavy-as-lead head.

To her distaste, she noted that she was stuck in the same old place she had been a few days back. The place of dull colours, white and black. The place of sickening smells. The place of monotonous, repetitive sounds. The place of life and death.

Urgh! Why was life such a cruel and bitter cycle? On a more positive note though, Ella was a teeny-weeny bit glad she was alive, though the pain was doing quite a number on her.

Her throat was dry, so the "Hello!" sound she wanted to make came out so thin and croaky that her own ears hardly grasped it.

What happened? She had no time to rack her brain because, in the next moment, a tall, fair-skinned, bespectacled, forty-something-year-old man clad in immaculate white coat slid open the glass door and walked over to her bed. By his side was a nurse that had stricklingly familiar facial features. It took a moment for Ella's brain to finally click. The nurse was none else than a relieved and grateful-looking Deborah, the glistening crystals in her eyes fighting to stay back.

"And how are you doing today?" The doctor asked in a warm voice as he smiled at her. She couldn't answer. Trying to swallow her saliva to lubricate her parched mouth was impossible, so she simply nodded.

He nodded back then proceeded to check the beeping monitor beside her and the IV fluid's content that trickled into her vein. He also checked her pulse with his stethoscope and the pink area underneath her eyes.

He made some notes and said, "You've made such rapid improvement, young lady! It's a good thing you're now fully conscious. Mostly, you have hung in a semi-conscious, incoherent state for the past few days. We were worried you had suffered brain damage."

"In a few hours, after your bills have been cleared and your file sorted, you'll be free to go home. And Miss, I hope this will be the last time we see you." Ella hoped the same with all her heart.

He left after dishing some instructions to Deborah on what she should and shouldn't do.

Deborah came closer, treading tentatively as one would towards a frightened puppy. "Are you really okay, Ella?"

Heaving a breath, Ella shook her head from side to side. Impulsively, tears slipped down her cheeks and she turned her head in the opposite direction from where Deborah stood, the cold realization slowly dawning on her.

The bits and pieces of the incident that landed her here began to fit like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. She had lost her house, and had almost lost her life.
What tragedy should she expect next? The return of her father? The breaking loose of all hell? The end of the world?

Deborah, looking pretty in a simple green, round-neck top on a brown six-piece skirt with a white overall draped over it, sat quietly on the edge of the bed. Ella felt the weight of the bed bed sink. However, she didn't expect what Deborah did next.