Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

IX - The Day I died (2 of 2)

"He's outside," Carter answered before I could voice out the question that had been stuck at the tip of my tongue. "Been there every day since you were confined here but never came in to see you even if I told him it's okay. Don't know what's up with that guy."

Just then, the door opened. Dad and a tiny middle-aged man came in. Judging by the white smock gown he was wearing, I assumed he was a doctor. After them, a female nurse followed, frantically skimming the pages attached to a clipboard.

"It was a miracle you were saved," the doctor said, fixing his glasses to ogle at me from head to toe. "It took more than twenty minutes to revive you but you still made it! I would bet you just made a world record."

He made it sound like I planned the whole dying thing to get into Guinness' World Book of Records. It was irritating.

"I'll be giving you more pain medications so you won't feel anything... and—" he mumbled as he wrote on the chart in his hands. He wore a name tag that read Phil Moore, M.D. which sounded a bit ironic as compared to what he was planning to do to me.

"I feel fine," I assured them. "When can I go home?"

The doctor met my eyes and blinked.

"Are you sure?" Dad asked, his eyes suddenly filled with worry. Now that was something you don't get to see every day. In fact, I had never seen it in ten years.

Doctor Moore nodded absently and continued scribbling on the patient's chart. "Okay, we'll observe you for twenty-four more hours and if your condition is stable, we'll discharge you. Is that alright?"

Not like I had a choice. I nodded and waited until the doctor has left before I talked to my Dad.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, looking uneasy.

I knew it was hard for him to show concern, like doing so would put him in a lot of pain. But to show this much, he must've been really worried.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I dropped my gaze.

"It's not your fault."

The door was left slightly ajar. From the narrow break, I could see Vincent looking straight at me. Our gazes locked for a second or two and for some reason, that made me terrified. My heart was racing. My whole body felt like it had been turned into stone, much less blink.

I was about to open my mouth and call him but I couldn't seem to find my voice. Without a word, he turned around and disappeared into the busy hallway.

Lindsay came in looking at the direction where Vincent had gone. "That's odd. I thought he was going to see you," she said, placing a basket of fruits on the table. It had a card that said Get Well Soon. "From our classmates."

Now that I've died, they care about me?

"Can we talk?" I said to Lindsay. "Alone?"

Dad understood and headed to the door, dragging Carter along. "We'll just, get some snacks."

"Wait, Mr. Rayne," Carter objected. "I have snacks in my backpack. There's Cheetos and Lays and Reese's."

"Come along," Dad ignored Carter, pushing him out of the door. "If the nurse sees those junk, we'll both get told off."

As soon as Lindsay and I were left alone in the room, she pulled a chair next to my bed and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled meeting her electric blue eyes. "For being a jerk."

With a smile, she shook her head and placed a hand over mine. "No. I'm sorry. I should not have let Mom scare you like that. She could be mistaken. After all, it was just a prediction. A guess."