Devil In A White Dress

Thirty Four

Martin had suffered this kind of pain ever since Kimberly's seduction tore him from his loving parents. The separation. The terror of never having to be loved again. But this wasn't Kimberly. His mother was brutally murdered in a savage way and his dad was in the brink of death. Whatever did do the damage had left the bus driver in a very dreadful state.

The young rapper raced to the Metropolitan Hospital down the street knowing well the result of what he was about to witness would involve dire consequences. Approximately 12:29, Martin's insanity seemed to be at a moderate level. He stormed into the building with interrogative stares all around him but his redditive brutal nature as of now had been visible. He took his "Lakers" cap off as though about to deliver a rap eulogy on stage by the time he came face to face with the receptionist, a blonde- haired old lady who'd already seen the dreadfulness on the kid.

"Can I help you, son?", was what the ol' lady had to say. But it was so tender and soft-spoken enough. She was careful not to intertwine with his mixed emotions. "I'm here to see my dad," Martin hushed out with a swollen heart, "He's Kenny Louise." "Your name", ol' lady blonde hair asked as she gestured towards her paperwork.

"I'm his son. I'm Martin Louise. Please just let me see him now," the young rapper went on impatiently, slowly losing control of both his temper, inner rage and sanity. The only thing stopping Martin from knocking the sense out of ol' lady blonde hair receptionist with his knuckles had apparently been the glass. But he lost patience already.

"Where is he? Where's my dad?"

"Please be patient, Mr. Louise," she uttered out, "Just fill in this registration, alright." Martin's hands and body felt icy cold. Ol' lady blonde hair got on his nerves like each single tick tock of the dynamite watch. He played it cool and did what the old soul asked him to then ventured into another atmosphere. The atmosphere where life and death was battling each other on a grim land. When Martin came face to face with his deepest fears the last time, a hemorrhage struck him at the age of ten. This wasn't a nightmare anymore. He was staring at the motionless body of his Poppa, deep in sleep, Vital Signs Monitor beeping smoothly, face completely stitched with bandages that exposed only his eyes and nose as well as the strange but still silence of the room. The doctor, bearded faced and stout, who pretty much reminded Martin of the large man he once encountered at ten years of age, did his best not to scare him.

He knew Kenny was going to be fine and whoever was responsible for this was going to pay. One way or another. "He's suffering a massive head injury. We managed to stopped the excessive bleeding from his forehead but I don't think that would stop the memory loss."

"You're saying he' ain't gonna even remember me, doctor?", Martin inquired coldly.

"There's a possibility. But I'm sure that won't happen. Memory loss or Alzheimer's happens after accidents like this. It takes a very long time for the patient to recapture lost memories. But he'll do fine."

The doctor felt like that went under the carpet. Martin didn't look like someone who needed to be educated as of now. He needed his dad alive to tell him that his wife was dead. Martin asked the masculine doctor for time alone and then suddenly, hatred started to descend upon his shoulders.

"Pop. I'm sorry," Martin whispered aloud as tears fell, "I should have known this was going to happen today. If I hadn't been such an asshole before, mom would still be here. She's gone, pop. Mom's been murdered. I don't know who could 'a done something like that. Her face...there was bite marks on her face. It was just awful......Like some kind of animal just......just pounced on her and.......I don't know what's going on, pop.... Im scared........I don't know what to do, pop. I'm just scared.... Im freaked out right now.

What am I going to do? I don't want to be left alone, pop. I know when you wake up, you probably won't remember me. But I'll always be here for you. 'Cause it's my fault. Not yours, pop. Mine. My fault. I know you didn't kill all those kids. You ain't never done such a thing before. Someone did this to you and he's still out there. The fucking cops aren't gonna do shit.

They'll let this go and the fucking media will make this look like some random accident. They're gonna make you the bad guy. Just like they always do. But I promise.... I promise I'll be here for you. Nobody's gonna hurt you. Not ever again."

Flashes ignited the whole room. Each of them was an illusion of what Martin would look like without ever seeing his mother again. A nightmare in the form of a WHITE plague had just destroyed the barrier belonging to the family he swore to protect. Part of his icy cold body was fighting to go to Jenny but his conscious couldn't bare this one true horror. Looking at his dear mother, now a lifeless bloodied body. The next horror was going to be the most unbearable.

A funeral for his mother. Or looking at his dead mother while she lay on the storage bed in the morgue. The WHITE cloth wrapped around her. Martin started to see things float in midair as anxiety wallowed in his tummy. Kenny's Heart Rate Monitor seemed to have sounded at peace but Martin's heart began to skip many beats. His legs, arms and body were numb and paralyzed. For a moment, he believed he was dead.

As Martin lay next to his motionless father, nothing could take this painful reality away from him. Being human, the young rapper wished this was all but a nightmare but reality was real as ever. He was now alone.