Felicity

Claire de Lune

"My mom can't visit me again today. She's very busy with work"

His brows furrowed and looked at me with expectant eyes. His little fingers fumbling at the button of his shirt. I just finished reading his favorite book and gave him his daily medication. The boy has been here for three weeks due to terminal cancer. Each day that I visit his room, I could see how the gloom in his face grew a shade darker. It seemed like it's not only the cancer that's sucking out his life but the bleakness of the hospital as well.

"That's alright. I'm sure she'll come by tomorrow. " I reassured him with the most convincing smile that I could muster. "That's what the other nurse said yesterday." He let out a heavy sigh and I could see his eyes glistened. I stared at his pale face for a moment and was unable to say anything. I want to hug his frail body and give him the comfort that he needs. But having an emotional attachment to a patient whose life is getting shorter each day is the last thing that I want as a nurse. "I wonder if she would cry if I die." His lips trembled and I can see that he's holding back his tears. "Hey. Stop saying that. Your mom loves you dearly and I'm sure she'll make time to visit on the weekend. How about you finish your milk and go to sleep now so we can read more books tomorrow?"

I gave him the glass of milk and left his room when he's fallen asleep. As I walk in the corridor, the tears that I've been suppressing at Ronan's room finally made their way out. He's the last patient that I need to attend to before my shift ends.

I feel sorry for the little guy who's been fighting for his life. Too big a fight for a seven-year-old boy who should be enjoying a happy childhood instead of being imprisoned inside a hospital and longing for the presence of a workaholic parent. He deserves to grow up and have a life of his own. As I think about Ronan's condition, I could not help to wish for a way to donate life like how people donate blood. There are a lot of dying people out there who are more deserving of this air that I breathe. There are terminally ill kids like Ronan who deserve to live the remaining days of my life more than I do.

I packed up my things and said goodbye to my co-workers. Some days at work would leave you beyond exhausted and emotionally drained that all you want to do is to coop up in bed and sleep for 12 hours. This is one of those days. I walked further into the most secluded part of the parking lot where I usually park my old sedan which is a gift from my father for my 20th. Nothing seemed unusual apart from the man who is casually smoking at the tail of a black Bentley. What a loner. The Bentley was parked beside my car and as I walked closer, I noticed that the man was wearing a familiar jacket but I can't remember where I last saw it from. His face was completely covered by the hood and I can't deny that he gives off a creepy vibe. The only thing visible from his face is a stick of cigar inserted between his lips. I even contemplated if I should continue walking.

Each footstep that I take became heavier as I walk closer. I mustered enough courage and walked past him. My nostrils were invaded by the smell of tobacco and I resisted the urge to cover my nose. I hurried towards my car and attempted to open it but as my hands reached the door, cold menacing metal was suddenly pressed into my temple. I didn't even wait for the clicking sound to reach my ear before I was able to figure out that it's a gun. My mind went racing but my body froze. It took me a while to register the whole situation.  I am alone in an almost empty parking lot with a person cocking a gun at me and there's not a single way out.  Great. I couldn't tilt my head enough to see who the person is. One wrong move and this person could put a bullet in my head. Could it be the weirdo standing behind the Bentley? But I didn't even hear his footsteps approaching. Who else would it be right?

"What do you want?"

My voice was hoarse and low that I wondered if he heard me. There's a piercing silence that followed. I was thinking of different possible ways to outrun whoever this person is but all of it only lead to a gruesome outcome – me being shot, or worse, dead.

"Put your hands behind you and get inside the Bentley. Now."

Affirmative. My gut feeling is right. That weirdo is up to no good and my life is now hanging in his hands. I should have returned to the exit upon noticing him a while ago. But even so, I know that he might still run after me or shoot me in the leg.

I didn't notice that I was gripping the door's handle so hard that my knuckles are turning white.

I slowly loosened my grip and put my hands behind my back. There's a sudden metal clang and after a few seconds, my wrists are securely clasped by handcuffs. I followed him and went inside his coupe. I closed my eyes as we drove off.

Minutes felt like hours as we took a route outside the city. I didn't dare to move my head and have a glimpse of his face. The air between us is stiffening and I don't want him to put a duck tape in my mouth just like what kidnappers do in the movies. I kept my senses alert and tried to figure out where we're heading to. But as we drove further away from the city, the highway and the landmarks became more unfamiliar.

"Are you going to kill me?"

I could not help myself asking. I took a sharp inhale after I let out the words that I've been dying to ask him since I get into his car. I was surprised that my tone of voice came out a lot calmer than I intended it to be. He didn't say anything and I remained rooted in my seat — not moving a muscle.

All of a sudden, the man played a familiar music and it took me a few moments to realize it was Claire de Lune by Claude Debussy. It calmed me a little. I didn't realize that my stiff body loosened up a bit and I am now staring at the car's window as everything outside became a blur. We're already in the countryside and I couldn't help to think that this ride could have been romantic if it weren't only for the fact that I am being kidnapped. A car ride under the moonlit night with solemn music in the background.

"How romantic"

I didn't realize that I said it out loud. The man remained silent. This time, I finally looked him in the face. His eyes were fixated on the road ahead and he's not even bothered that I've been staring at him for a while. He looked harmless up close. It is silly for me to think of that without even knowing his real intention. I knew that there's no way for me to make this man speak up so I gave up on my attempts to spark a conversation.

The car came to a sudden halt. The man dragged me outside towards a bungalow. I expected it to be some sort of an abandoned factory or house but as the man turned on the light as we got in, the place is well flourished and full of antic furniture. To my surprise, the man took off my cuffs. He urged me to eat with him at the dining table to which I hesitantly obliged. The food he prepared is palatable that I feel more like a guest than a hostage, to be honest.

After we eat, he walked me inside a room.

"You must rest for now."

He left me alone and I slumped my body in the bed. I knew I should be looking for ways to escape at that very moment but my body seemed to betray me. My eyelids became heavier and my breath shorter. I wasn't feeling a bit of drowsiness just a few moments ago and that's when it hit me that I must be drugged or something. Everything went blur until I was engulfed by total darkness. Before I pass out, Ronan's face flashed into my mind. I wonder if this is how helpless he felt knowing that his life is lying on complete uncertainty.