Knock!
Knock!
"Yes…?"
I was surprised to have a visitor this evening; usually, the hospital doesn't allow evening visits because they tend to run too long. At first, I thought Liz was coming back because she might have forgotten something. It happens often. Last time, during winter, she forgot her jacket in my room at night and crept in to get it, but that woke me up. That night, Liz also talked to me about her younger self. But that couldn't be it, since it was mid-spring and supper takes a little while to arrive. Only when I heard the door open and saw that unique dark purple did I realise who had come. The only person I've wanted to see…
"Mom?"
I heard the door close, then footsteps approaching the bed. I knew it was Mom; her purple was the only shade like that. No one else wore that shade. And her footsteps were the same long strides. The smell of her perfume quickly spread through the room; despite the open window, the strong fragrance still tickled my nose, as it always had. I called out to her, but she remained silent… I knew it was her, though.
"…Mom?"
The floating colour stopped at the foot of my bed. She leaned in closer and ran her hand through my hair, petting me slowly. She had never done this to me before, at least not that I remember, but it didn't feel unpleasant in the least. I was smiling all the while. I felt the cold chain of her necklace dangle over my neck as she lowered herself to kiss my forehead. But even then… she didn't say a word.
"Mom… That tickles."
Instead, her hand stopped, and I felt her body pull farther away from me. So I instinctively grabbed her hand. I felt that if I let go, she would never come back again. That she would leave me in this hospital forever, without looking back. Her colour said so; her almost-black purple spoke of it. Even if people lied, their colours never lied to me. I trusted them, but even so, I trusted Mom more than anything. I couldn't hate her even when she entered those occasional crises, because she was my mother all the same.
"Take me with you… Don't leave me here."
I also wanted to step outside, to play like the other kids, to laugh with friends. But because of my condition, I couldn't; I never will be able to. Day after day, they would bring things into my body, take things from inside me, and inspect me over and over again. I felt all these eyes scouring my body down to my own colour without any restraint or consideration for my feelings. All because "Your body is too unpredictable." If one person could take me away from this place, it would be Mom. She had already done it once, but this time I wanted to go with her forever and leave this place for good.
"I want to go with you… please."
Even though I pleaded with her to take me, her colour still strayed far from me, where I couldn't reach her. Her body tilted forward, out the window. For a second, I felt like she was going to jump out; I felt like that deep purple of hers would turn black. Like all the other black colours in the hospital, she would also die. I don't want that. I don't want Mom to die, because if she dies, I will really be alone. I won't be able to keep her in my world, because I would know she died. If Mom dies… I'd rather not see it so that I could keep her in my world. Forever… if possible.
So I pulled within me every ounce of strength I could muster and grabbed her leg, dragging the white blanket with me. Her body stopped, not shaking me off. I felt her gaze drop to me, but I kept holding on.
"Don't leave me. Take me with you."
Seeing the colour lower down, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the worst, but Mom didn't do anything. Instead, she brushed my hair with the same hands she had tried to jump out with. It felt oddly calm; I didn't feel the fear I used to. Was that what Liz meant? Was that what it felt like to be a grown-up? I thought I understood her before, that I knew who Mom was. But the truth was that I didn't know anything. I couldn't understand her. I couldn't share the pain she carried. I couldn't make her happy. I couldn't be a good daughter. That's why I wished for the only thing that could make her happy… Dad.
"I will climb the mountain… I will sing to the sea… And I will bring Dad back with me. I promise. So, please… Don't leave me."
"Happy birthday…"
I thought it had been an eternity since I last heard her voice. Yet every time I heard it, the distance between us felt even greater. She was straying away from me, but I never realised it. Her words came out softly, while her hand followed that same tone, patting me slowly.
"To… you… Happy birthday, dear ####. Happy birthday… To… you."
Even though I felt sad, I forced myself to speak. I swallowed my tears and spoke clearly, smiling brightly. Because Mom had sung me happy birthday, I mustn't be sad. I mustn't be spoiled. I raised my head and gave her the biggest smile I could muster.
"I'm ten now… Mom! Look at me… haven't I grown?"
"Don't be silly. Of course you have."
"Then… will I be able to come with you now that I'm all grown up?"
"..…"
"…Mom?"
"..…"
"Can't I?"
"Do you want to meet your Dad?"
"…Huh?"
The hand in my hair stopped moving, and I felt her move her leg away until she knelt beside me. But even while kneeling, her body was still on top of me.
"Do you want to come with me to see Dad?"
I wanted to meet Dad. Of course I did… but why now? Why did she ask only now if I wanted to come with her and meet Dad? Why not earlier? Was it because I wasn't grown up yet? I had all these questions I wanted to ask, but none of them made it out. I never stopped thinking of Dad. Every day I did… Every day. Her body came face to face with mine on the ground, her soft hair brushed mine as the strands wrapped their entirety around my features. I felt her gaze, intently locking me down, strangling me down to a yes. My thoughts buzzed and swayed; I couldn't think clearly at that moment. Her colour wouldn't let me. That absorbing purple had turned into a bland black.
"You do, don't you? …Tell me you do, darling."
Her face was so close to mine that I could count her breaths, smell her, and see her hair. Mom wanted me to come with her. That black colour wanted to take me in with it. I felt her warm smile, her soothing skin, and her appeasing gaze. But at the same time, a pointy object slowly stretched my skin below, where the gap in my robe left my tummy exposed. It poked me slowly, almost unnoticeably; my attention was too focused on Mom's black core. But I felt it… I felt it even more vividly as it slid into my stomach. I wiggled slightly because of the pain, but I couldn't take my gaze off her colour; I couldn't abandon Mom, because she hadn't abandoned me.
"Slowly… Slowly… Calm down, sweetie."
It burned; it really did. It burned me inside even more than the syringes did. They only burned me in one place, but this object entering my stomach burned me from everywhere. I squirmed left and right, but I refused to scream despite the pain. Mom wouldn't like it if I screamed, because we were going to meet Dad together. I felt a hot substance roll down from where the object had entered my stomach. It spurted from both sides of my belly, almost wrapping me in its warmth, inside and out. At that moment… I also thought my colour had become black, just like Mom's. I may not have died physically, but I died. The colour inside me, which I had deemed vibrant and colourful, despite the pitiful life I'd led up until now. If I could see it, just the way I saw others… I'm sure… I'm sure it would have been black too.
"Good… You're doing gre-"
Someone flung Mom's body away from mine. I could see both of their colours: a caring pink, and the absorbing black that had resumed its deep purple. I knew Liz had come. I heard her scream at Mom, but I couldn't quite understand what they were saying, because my body felt too heavy, too drowsy. Mom didn't move; she stayed on the ground as Liz scrambled over me, dishevelled. I heard her scream my name over and over again, but my consciousness was already fading. I was going to meet Dad… Alone. Mom's colour wasn't black anymore… I was sure only mine was. She had abandoned me again. I thought I could go with her, but she let me go alone. Was it because I wasn't good enough to go with her? Was it because she still thought of me as a child? Was it because I failed as her daughter to understand her? But either way… I couldn't hate her. I couldn't love her. I couldn't scream at her because she was my mother all the same.
At that moment… I thought I had actually died. Not by colour anymore, but by heart.