Akira Takahashi is a man with numerous aliases and personalities. Unknown to many, he harbours a deep secret that could be detrimental to those dear to him if ever revealed. With shadows of Akira's past unveiling themselves, it's time to greet them...
Through the glass door I could see Dr. Chan giving some suggestions to my grandparents and I assume whatever he's saying was heartbreaking.
I can never fault with them for bringing me to a psychiatrist when I have made their lives miserable. Had it been someone else, they would have sent me to an institution without an ounce of guilt, but not them. My maternal grandparents. After mom, dad and Daria, my grandparents were the closest to me.
With a sigh I truged to a small open space few paces away. Taking a seat on a bench, I brought my feet up and pressed my thigh to my chest. Curling my arms around my knees, all I could do was rock to and fro. Closing my eyes, I tucked my face at the crook of my elbow and let the tears slowly flow.
These last eight months haven't been easy on us at all. After the cops rescued me, I was admitted in hospital and was under medicine induced coma because my brain couldn't process all that had happened to me. According to doctors, I became violent and a threat to myself. Being mute was the way I was born, but becoming deaf and unable to hear anyone, those bast**** ripped that away from me.
After regaining my consciousness, grandma revealed what had happened to my parents and life shattered once again. Unable to breathe, I went through a massive seizure and chest pain. It took me time to recoup and throughout those painful days, my sister and grandparents were the only ones by my side.
I believe along with me the second most affected soul was Daria. They say twins have a telepathic connection; and in our case it was true. She felt my pain. She was my constant. If not for her, I would have truly been lost.
Feeling a shadow, I opened my eyes and glanced at the boy next to me. He was eating chocolate. When he saw me looking, he gave me one, smiled and walked away. The act wasn't strange, but the fact that his eyes were kind and geniune was something I haven't seen nor felt for a while.
Before I could ponder more, a hand touched my elbow and immediately I cowered as my panic attack became severe. It took me great deal of time to realise it was my grandmother. She was kneeling in front of me and crying.
Quite early on, the doctors had adviced no one should touch me, but the fact remained that with me unable to hear, whoever wanted my attention, had to stand in front of me.
I guess we all had to learn.
Watching my grandmother cry and my grandfather at loss on whom to console, I wiped my tears as well as hers. Mustering some courage, I held onto her hand and tried smiling.
I hope one day we all can survive this ordeal and trauma.
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