Pencils & Polaroids

52: from grumpy to sunshine

"One last time, what's your name?" The policeman taking my report asks me one last time. 

I'm so tempted to say Nikki Minaj for him being such an ass. Despite my force, the man didn't say anything about what was happening outside. I could see people moving, and I could make out some faces too, but everything was so quiet and held such a tense atmosphere. 

"Park Mellon," I repeat for the nth time to assure him I do not have concussion or a memory loss. 

"Which school do you go to?" 

The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

No, Park. "Romanus Barcross Academy." 

"And where are you now?" 

Hell, most likely. "Here." 

"More specific." 

I grit my teeth. "Redwood Campus, San Fransisco, California, United States of America, Earth, Solar System, Milky Way--" 

"That's enough." He closes his notepad and clicks his pen. "You are good to go!" 

It's astonishing how he walked out of this room in one piece. I sit up from the bed I've been lying in. This medical room feels a lot different than when I was here last time. I've been in this room for nine hours today. Unconscious for four and a half hours, two hours of resting with my mind slipping in and out, after which they gave me my first solid food to eat—Chicken Soup with hot tea. Thirty minutes later, upon my request/stubbornness, they changed the hot tea to cold coffee. But before I could take a sip, the policemen team walked in and grilled me with questions for two hours. 

I am well-prepared to leave this room because, despite the number of people walking in and out of it in uniforms and lab coats, they restricted everyone else from even visiting. I had no clue about what was going on outside. And all I wanted to know was one thing. 

I'm about to reach for my shoes when Sadie opens the door and walks in. She closes the door before she fully turns to me. She smiles. I don't like her smile. It's hesitant, pity-stained, but most of all, fake. That smile holds heaviness and she's trying her best to hide it. 

"Hey, how are you feeling?" She tucks her hair behind her ear and approaches me. 

Her fingers touch my arm which I immediately snatch away. She escapes my eyes and inches a step back. Her eyes are red as if she's been crying for a long time. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are tinted pink. Her fingers fidget as she blinks another layer of tears and forces a bigger fake smile. 

My heart begins to thud. It feels so heavy, I almost think one side of my body was getting paralyzed. I wanted to know and I didn't want to know. I wasn't prepared for either but staying in the hideout in between was equally worse. I put an end to my mind because all I screen when I begin to ponder about this are only negative thoughts. 

"I heard you didn't like the tea. Did they provide you anything yummy or was it all just medically garnished?" 

Deflection. I continue eyeing her without letting out any answer. She knows what I want to know. The fact that she's talking about everything apart from that, feels like someone put their hand through my chest and is now squeezing my feebly beating heart. 

She bites the inside of her cheeks—a poor attempt to stop the flow of tears because the layers just keep getting thicker and more evident. Her face shades a darker shade of pink when she folds her lips as a drop escapes her eyes. 

Following that one drop, tears flow like a chain and then, she shakes her head. 

I can hear my heartbeat. So loudly. So clearly. Pounding--begging for her to change the narrative. I don't want to know. I don't want to get out of this room anymore. I want to go back to sleep and wake up in a world where he--