It had been about a day since Redbridge saw Iya and she still couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened. Maybe she could have thought a bit faster if she was pacing around, but that wasn't exactly possible in her "broken" state. So there Iya was, with her head upright, thinking about what even she wasn't sure of for almost a day.
A tiny part of Iya wanted to sleep, but a larger, more domineering part of her had no interest in sleep, it only wanted her to think, even though it knew there wasn't a valuable reason for her thinking.
Iya was thinking of the electromagnetic barrier, she thought if it was right for her to leave Dumbley without solving the mystery. She had made countless debates in the arena of her mind, trying to abolish the idea of staying in Dumbley, but as soon as one argument ended, another began with a voice (which unsurprisingly sounded like Delai) yelling "Go to the RMA, you are not a damn detective!".
"Miss, you need to sleep to get better, please sleep or I'll have to sedate you" the nurse said to Iya.
"Okay, I'll try to" Iya replied with a sigh
"Well, if it isn't our whale slayer here!" a new voice announced behind the nurse.
"Uhmmmm... It's not something I'm proud of though" Iya replied.
"That's a good sign!" the owner of the voice replied, stepping into the room. "I am Donald Duke, and it's an honour to be in the same room with you" a chubby man said extending his hands towards Iya.
Iya took a closer look at the man as she shook him, he was chubby man but what caught her eyes concerning him was his colorful clothing. Saying the man looked like a festival was an understatement, he was color. He wore a bright yellow hat, bright blue glasses, a shouty shade of red as his suit, a shouty green as his shirt, a purple-orange tie, cyan trousers, blue socks, with red shoes. The color combinations were even more visually disturbing as the sun shone on the man, making him "glow".
The nurse, noticing Iya's continuous blinking, drew the curtains close, calming the raging colors. "I will see you later miss Iya, try to be sleeping by then" the nurse said leaving the room.
"So, what brings you here? Mr Uhmmmm... Duke" Iya asked
"I am delighted you asked! And please call me Donald instead" Donald said, sitting on a chair beside Iya. "Have you by any chance heard of Shadow Writer?" Donald asked.
"Yeahhh, a friend of mine happens to love his books very much, but I have only read a few" Iya replied
"Well, I am actually shadow writer, and I need you help for a new book of mine" Donald said with the most pleading smile he could muster.
"Wow! The actual Shadow Writer! What can I do for you?" Iya said weakly, probably because she was a bit drowsy.
"I need to interview you, on your account of the Grimwhale contest, to write my book" Donald replied
"There are some things I do not want to share with anyone concerning what happened that day. So, I am sorry but I'll have to decline" Iya replied, with the same weak tone.
"Please Iya, give it some consideration, I think people need to know what happened that day, and it would make a splendid book, a bestseller in fact" Donald said with a pleading tone to his voice.
"What's in it for you? If you indeed write this book" Iya shot back
"Well, I believe people need to know what happened that day, I feel your willpower and hard work would go a long way to inspire them" Donald replied in a rehearsed tone.
"But why should I give you my account, why can't another writer write it?" Iya asked him.
"Because I believe that only me can bring that story to life, you have seen my work, you know I would ensure your account doesn't come out as a disjointed story, it would come out as a masterpiece" Donald replied.
"You are only saying why I should give you my account, not why you want it" Iya replied.
In response, Donald stood up with a sigh and walked towards the window. "Iya, what is the worst thing that could happen to a writer?" he asked her.
"Death?" Iya replied
"No, you're wrong, it's writers block." Donald replied.
"How is writers block worse than death?" Iya shot back.
"For many writers like me for instance, writing is everything, it is what we do even in our sleep. But, when we can't do it anymore, it could almost feel like there is no purpose in life, because writing is our purpose" Donald replied her.
"I don't think it is healthy to make writing your reason to live Donald" Iya replied him with a condescending tone.
"I get that a lot, but it is what it is" Donald replied. "So would you help me Iya?" he continued.
"You haven't answered my question. Why do you wan... no, need my account of the Grimwhale!" Iya said, slightly regretting the angered tone in her voice.
"I need it because I have been experiencing a writer's block for 6 years now, and I believe that hearing your account, and writing about it, would somehow give me some new inspiration to write." Donald replied.
"Oh wow, can't any other thing work as inspiration?" Iya asked him
"I wouldn't be here if something else would have worked" Donald replied her with a sigh.
"Okay Donald, I will put your offer into consideration. I would make sure to call you once I have made a decision" Iya replied.
"Thank you Iya, I would leave my card by your table" Donald said with a thankful tone, walking towards her bedside table
"I haven't told him I have accepted yet, why is he so happy?" Iya muttered, watching Donald in disbelief.
"Uhmmm... Iya, may I deliver a signed copy of one of my books to you?" Donald asked at the room's threshold.
"Why?" Iya replied him
"Well, you said you knew someone that loved my books, I figured it was someone special to you. Don't you think he would be happy to get a signed copy from his favorite author?" Donald said with a bright smile. "Plus, it would increase my chances of getting a yes from you" he quickly added.
"Well, I don't mind if you send a signed copy" Iya responded, with a weak smile.
"By the way, what is his name? I need to write the name I am signing to" Donald said, pulling out a notepad.
"His name is Michael, Michael Simpson" Iya replied Donald.
"Got it! I look forward to your favorable reply!" Donald said, leaving the room.
"Michael would freak out if I tell him this happened" Iya thought to herself as she was pulled into the sleep her body longed for.
Iya was woken by whimpering beside her bed, she turned to see it was Mrs. Simpson, along with Michael's sisters and Mr. Simpson who was standing oddly by the door.
"Mrs Simpson, what is going on?" Iya asked, with fear in her shaky voice.
"Mi... Mich.. Michael was invol... involved in a..." but Mrs. Simpson couldn't continue, she broke into tears.
"W...what happened to Michael?" Iya said in panic.
"Michael was involved in a plasma bomb explosion... h... he ddd... died" Mr. Simpson cut in, with a shaky voice.
Iya screamed and screamed even louder, she couldn't hear anything the nurses, or the Simpsons were saying, all she could hear was Mr. Simpsons words, all she could see was her last encounter with Michael. Iya could feel multiple hands around her attempting to restrain her, but she thrashed against the protest of her aching body, till she felt the sharp pain of a needle on her arm. Slowly Iya got weaker, her arms and legs felt numb, and she struggled against the sudden drowsiness that overcame her, but all was futile. "No" Iya continuously said weakly as darkness slowly crept her vision, till she was finally unconscious.
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