"Doctor, do you think that she'll be okay?" I heard my mother's worried voice.
"Yes, Miss Hadley, she'll be okay. You don't need to worry. Your daughter had been surfing from a disease but now she is fine." Then, I heard Dr. Nicholson's cheerful and assuring voice." I have written all the medicines. Please make her take them on time." His voice came again.
"I'm always worried about her." My mom said.
"No, no, there is no need to worry about her now. She's completely fine." I heard his reply. From his voice, I came to know that he would be smiling. He used to smiled when he wanted to assure someone from the danger he didn't want the person to see.
I sighed.
Am I really normal now? Or is it just a recurring dream again.
At that time, I was standing beside the door and my ears were placed on the door to hear the interesting conversation of my mother with the doctor... about me. I had been in the mental hospital for three months, and now I was going home: Sweet home.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps which gestured that my mother was coming out of the room with the doctor. The door opened. I quickly sat on one the chairs beside it, in the waiting hall, not waiting them to know that I've been eavesdropping.
My mom sat next to me on one of the chairs, and placed her warm hand on my shoulder. I shuddered.
"It's going to be okay, Lydia." She said in sweet voice. I nodded silently and looked at the white floor of hospital. Two heavy white boots stopped in front of me.
"Lydia, I'm glad that finally you're..." he kept on saying, but I wasn't listening to him. I was in my own world. I had been going home after three months and it was a big thing for me. I was happy and frightened too.
What if, he followed me again? That was all playing on my mind again and again like a lost game, What if he followed again? But Dr. Nicholson said that he wouldn't and I had to trust him because he said that I should.
But how could I trust him when I still feel 'him' lurking around in my dream?
I sighed again.
"... and don't forget to take your medicine." It brought me out from my thoughts. I looked up, at him, the man in white apron, smiling. I nodded and crossed my arms around my chest nervously. My mother warmly smiled at me. I gave her a small smile in return.
"If you need any help, I'm always there."
I wearily smiled and said "thanks".
"Come sweetie." My mother said and grabbed me by placing her arm around my shoulders. I stood up, and gave Dr. Nicholson a small smile, and went to the front door with my mother.
When I stepped out from the hospital, I took a deep breath. The cool breeze was hitting my face and causing pleasant feeling in me and also a pleasant expression on my brain.
I had been locked in that creepy place for three months, and now, I was breathing in fresh air. I wanted to enjoy this. I wanted to live in this. The sky was filled with heavy clouds which were ready to weep in a minute or so. Maybe they were also feeling my grief and they wanted to assuage me. It was my silly thought, I know. I had spent these days in doing stupid activities and thinking silly things. Weirdly dark things. People would call me a weirdo, I know well.
*
I was looking outside from the window of my room. It had been raining since two days. The drops of rain were sliding on the glass of window. I was observing one of its movements silently. It reminded me of the day when daddy and me were sitting in the car and laughing badly. We were discussing about the water balloon prank which we would be throwing on my mother. I was laughing badly when father was telling me how he met my mother and how crazy my mother was in her youth. Suddenly, a truck from the front appeared. It's movements were strange. I shook my father's coat which he was wearing, from the arm, from my hand, and shouted, "DAD LOOK!!". When finally noticed it, it was too late. The truck was nearly colliding to us. My father took a sharp turn. The car lost its balance and twisted over. And then... there was my scream and blood. The last thing, I could remember was my father gasping and muttering my name and then I passed out. I couldn't see him... I couldn't.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital's room, covered in bruises and an never ending pain. And father was dead.
---
"Sweet heart! Do you need anything?" I came out from my thoughts. I turned my head. It was night now and I was silently sitting in my bed, staring in air. My mother was there. How did she take all of this? I had never asked her, never got the time. I was so busy freaking out and hallucinating him everywhere that I never asked her, never thought about her. I kept on falling out and having nightmare of that time and breaking and tearing myself up again and again... and and and....
"Nope" I replied instead.
"Have you taken your medicines?"
"Yup"
"Okay dear. Good night."
I didn't looked back. When she went, a tear slid across my cheeks.
I slid under my cover and turned off the lamp. I took a very deep breath and sighed heavily. I missed my father a lot. After his death, I didn't remain normal. I just couldn't. I screamed and screamed badly, but it didn't help me. Nothing helped honestly. Not even those weird seductive shits which doctors called medicines. I locked myself in a room. I thought that my father was died because of me. I questioned myself that why I was alive when he was dead? I should be dead with my father.
A few more tears fell from my eyes. I wanted to sleep but couldn't. My grief had covered my heart like a dark cloud covering the delightful charms of a sunny day. I kept thinking until the clock struck 2:09 am.
"Sweetheart."
I heard someone's voice and abruptly opened my eyes.
"Daddy?" I called. It was my father's voice.
"I'm there. I came for you." A voice said. I thought that I was dreaming. I rubbed my eyes and tried to make the view more clear.
"Lydia." He said again. Now, I could see him clearly. He was standing next to my bed. He was wearing black suit which he was wearing when we buried him. He had hollow eyes, sad smile and scars on his forehead. His cloths were covered with blood.
"Don't you want to come with me?" He said.
A wave of fear swept across my body. I was shivering in fear. I wanted to answer but I failed to open my mouth and speak. He was standing in a horrible condition in front of me.
"Daddy, you're dead." I hardly said.
"I know." he replied. "but it's so peaceful... the darkness." He made a face like he tasted something delicious.
"I don't want to come." I said immediately, shivering from head to toe. "I don't want to go with you."
"Why? Aren't you love me now? Aren't you my sweet little daughter now?" He smiled sadly and looked at me closely, coming out of the darkness. His eyes were holes, utterly black. "Don't you miss me?" He asked sweetly.
"I do." I replied silently. "But you are just my hallucination."
"I'm not."
"But that's what Doctor said, you are."
He didn't say anything. Suddenly, he started coming close to my bed.
"I want to tell you a story. You love to hear stories, don't you?."
"Daddy, I don't want to hear anything." I started moving away. Suddenly, a drop of blood from his forehead fell on my hand. I screamed loudly, stood up from my bed. He tried to reach me but I dodged him and started running towards the door. I closed the door with a thud and locked it. I started running towards the stairs, so that I could reach mom. She would be in the living room. She should be.
I searched the whole house but I couldn't find her. Where is she? Oh my God! What should I do now!
"Mom? Mom?" I shouted but there was no answer. I looked behind. My father was standing behind me and staring me with his hollow eyes.
"Lydia! Don't you want to come with me?" He repeated again and again. "Why are you trusting them, not me?"
His footsteps a thud, coming towards me, his voice a growl now; not sweet, and completely not like my father.
I ran from my house. It was raining badly. I ran towards my car.
I started the car and speed away. On my way, I called Dr. Nicholson with shivering hands. He answered in no minute.
"Lydia, what happened?" His husky voice answered. Maybe he was sleeping.
"He has come again." I almost screamed.
"Who?"
"He... you know him."
"Lydia, have you taken your medicines?"
"What? I'm freaking out and you're asking about my medicine. What kind of doctor you are?" I shouted. I was shivering badly. Suddenly, I noticed someone's presence right behind me. I looked back. He was sitting in back seat.
I couldn't take breath.
"Lydia, what happened?" Dr. Nicholson said.
"He's right behind me."
"Lydia, don't look behind."
"No...!" I started crying." He will never leave me."
"Lydia! He is not there. You're imagining it all. He is in your head."
I couldn't believe him.
Behind me, I heard his voice. "Lucy, it's me. Don't listen to them. I'm real. I want you to come with me. Come with me. It's so peaceful here."
I started crying. I took a sharp turn on the wet road, and found myself on the same road.
"Oh gosh!"
"Lydia? What happened."
"I'm on the same road where we got accident. How'd I got there? Oh my God!"
"You are driving? Move back and go home. I'm coming."
Suddenly, I felt His hands on my neck. I started crying. He wanted to kill me.
"I can't!" I cried. "He's here."
"Lydia! Listen to me. He is in your imagination."
"Help me!!!"
"Lydia he is not real. You are suffering from a disease."
"H...help me!" I started gagging, his hands on my neck grew strong.
"Lydia! Listen me carefully, stop driving."
Suddenly, I lost my balance.
"Lydia! You're suffering from a disease. You're imagining him."
His grip on my neck grew more. I started choking. Suddenly, I made a wrong turn and my car twisted.
"Lydia? Lydia? Where are you? Why aren't you replying?" I only heard Dr. Nicholson calling my name, just like my father was whispering mine in his last breaths, but the only difference was that, this time, I was dying.
I opened my eyes. My father's body was lying next to me. He had a peaceful smile on his face. His face was covered with blood. And then my eyes grew wild as I saw myself lying next to him lifelessly. My face was also covered with blood.
Dr. Nicholson always said that I imagined things that were not real. I talked to people who didn't exist because they were in my mind. I created them. According to him, I couldn't forget my father and the deadly event. I kept imagining him. He said that it was all my guilt. He was not real. I didn't know that whether Dr. Nicholson was right or wrong but seeing my body lying in front of me, I realized that...
I was dead now and there was no way back.
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