Chapter Four: Slipping Away

♧♧

Mrs Dawson stiffened

The car vibrated beneath her as she sat at the back seat of her father's station wagon.

The noise of vehicles, passers-by and other road users whizzed past the window as she stared blankly out through the window.

At intervals, Mr Dawson would throw loving glances at her to see if she was doing fine.

"My princess, would you like us to stop by at Mandy's?" He asked fondly, trying his best to lighten the mood.

His wife on the other hand was a shell of her own self.

Rena was inhumanly still.

"Renie?" He called again, this time with a hint of worry in his voice.

The girl's mind had wandered far ... and wide.

She was battling with the pang in her chest so it wouldn't suffocate her because it hurt so deeply.

Mummy wasn't the one who'd wronged her the most because she knew for quite a while that the woman had given up hope on her recovery and her faith and confidence was now ruled by fear.

She unconsciously heaved a sigh and cupped her face with her palm, resting her elbow on the car window pane.

It was Nike.

Nike's err had hurt her the most because to her, she was the only one who was still sane in her entire world.

Nike was the only person she truly understood and could trust.

Mummy and daddy?- she'd already planned it long ago in her mind that Jenna would take over from her life when she passed.

She was sure they wouldn't even be able tell the difference if only Jenna would do all of their bidding.

Yea!- just like her!

"Renie?!" Mr Dawson called her name for the umpteenth time.

"S-sorry. Yea, daddy?"

"I was asking if we could stop by at your favourite bakery?" He explained. "Why is everyone so absent-minded with me today?" He muttered the last question.

"No. I just need to go home and rest. I'm fine," she replied weakly but her father wasn't satisfied with the response.

"Rena, in these remaining days, I just want you to keep hope and invest in things that bring you true happiness, rather than putting your focus on your problem." He advised.

From the rear view mirror, he watched his child break down.

"So Mandy's?" He asked tenderly.

"Yea," she responded, holding back the sobs and lacing her tears with a smile.

Mr Dawson beamed a smile of content and made a U-turn, headed for the bakery.

When they arrived, Rena felt a wave of calm being in the ambiance of the place, but it didn't take away the pang in her chest.

Mr Dawson picked a table for them and left to place an order, leaving the two ladies to themselves.

There was an air of discomfort between mother and daughter.

Mrs Dawson strived to breach the awkward air.

"Uhm, Rena ... you'll be fine, okay?" The woman held her arm as she spoke.

Rena was silent.

Her eyes pieced through that of her mother.

"So uhm," the woman heaved a sigh. "How was it like in the hospital?" She asked nursing a false smile.

"Mummy ... I just need some rest ... and space." Her voice was stern and hoarse.

"Oh. OK."

"Okay! Renie, I got you your loaf. I was lucky enough to buy this one- it just came out of the oven!" He excitedly explained.

Rena nursed a false smile, grateful for her father's efforts.

♧♧♧

Joan helped Rena freshen up and then served her dinner as well..

"Thank you," She muttered with sincere gratitude.

"It's fine. Do you need more food?"

"More?"

"Yea, more!"

"No, Joan. I'm full already. I ate a lot at the hospital cos even the food is strictly prescribed." She explained.

That was a joke but Joan didn't get it. Yea, they were close but there was still a stubborn rift between them that just couldn't be filled;

The gap that Nike effortlessly occupied.

Nike would have been able to catch the joke and even top it up with one of hers.

Rena heaved a sigh of frustration as her mood instantly switched.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm. Yea."

"Sure?"

"Joan, can I ask you a question?"

"Why not?"

She adjusted herself on the bed and spoke; "If you had one day left on earth, what would you do?"

Joan froze- shocked at the random nature of the question.

"What would I do?" She reiterated the question.

"Yea," Rena replied casually.

"Well, first I'd want the world to hear my story. Then, I'll spend time with my family because I would never see them again."

Rena heaved a heavy sigh.

"And?"

"That's all for now."

Rena thanked Joan and politely asked her to leave her room with the excuse that she wanted to rest.

But she didn't rest- she thought ... a lot. And then, she cried.

She thought about what Joan said but didn't budge.

Then daddy's words flashed through her mind; "... Do those things that give you true happiness..." his words echoed inside her head.

True happiness, Rena pondered.

She'd never really had that, speak more of knowing the things that brought her such.

But she was sure she had experienced some form of happiness; there was Nike happiness, Mandy's Place happiness, mummy and daddy happiness which of all of them was the most false.

What all these forms of happiness Rena had experienced in the past had one thing in common and it was the fact that she derived this happiness from the happiness of others.

But what did she want?- Rena didn't know and neither could she wrap her mind around it.

Did she ever want anything?

Her mind froze; she couldn't think of anything.

"I didn't ever want anything. This time not because the Lord was my Shepherd but cos I couldn't seek..." She mused to herself. "But, why?..." her voice trailed off as she stretched herself out on the bed.

Rena laid there for only a few minutes when sleep suddenly but slowly took her eyes.

She shut her eyes, half awake as her body relaxed into the softness of the mattress.

Suddenly, she felt a movement over her eyes, like a dark shadow hovering over her face- someone was there. Rena snapped her eyes open.

No one was there.

Though a bit of fear shot through her thoughts, she was far too tired to worry about anything more, so she ignored it and shut her eyes once more.

Then, sleep took her eyes...

In the living room downstairs, Rena's parents were seated with cups of coffee in hand, discussing their daughter's condition.

"I'm so scared." Mrs Dawson's voice quaked with the supposed emotion she felt.

"It's okay to be scared, my love but don't let it rule over you, hmm?" Mr Dawson comforted his wife, rubbing her feet that rested on his lap.

"What if we never see our daughter again, Bright?"

She asked, still distressed.

"Rita, I am convinced that this is just a phase and it will pass," he assured with a calm countenance.

But deep down, she wasn't convinced. She had always seen it- ever since Rena was a little sickly child.

She had feared it but never dared to speak of it.

Anxiety shot through her body.

Even the coffee had lost its savour.

A moment of silence passed when the couple individually danced with their thoughts.

Suddenly, Mrs Dawson broke the silence;

"I need to go and check on her," she rose from the sofa as her long chiffon print dress swept across the floor.

"Rita, wait. She needs her sleep and you might wake her up."

"No, I'll be very quiet about it. I just want to see how she is doing, or if at all she is sleeping soundly." She insisted.

"Look, from what Maxwell educated me on our daughter's condition, she would need all the rest she can get.

If she's not invested in sleep, she may start getting suicidal thoughts." He explained.

She still wasn't convinced.

"I need to check on my child. I can feel it, all isn't well with her..." Mrs Dawson's voice trailed off as she dashed out and up the stairs.

Her husband ran after her, feeling the unease in his wife.

Rita reached the bedroom first and for some reason, flung the door open, going back on her decision to enter quietly..

By the time he had gotten to the door, all he heard was a high-pitched scream.

He ran into the bedroom to unravel the reason behind his wife's distress.

As he dashed into the place, he found his princess dangling from the ceiling fan and it was still spinning.

Right beneath was Rita, trying to untie her as tears gushed from her eyes.

Terror shot through him.

♧♧

Nike drew her purple curtains shut and slid down into the sofa, dazed.

The room was dimly lit to match and to soothe her mood, though it was morning.

She had even skipped her lectures at Crawford Arts.

She was clad in a white oversized polo shirt that concealed most of her thighs.

Her vision was clouded, her head hurt and there was still the resilient pang in her chest.

This time, it wasn't the substance- she was simply intoxicated by everything that was happening with her and with Rena.

Yea, Nike never cried.

Even in the quiet where no one was present, she rathered doing interior decor or eating as a method of therapy than to drop tears.

To her, it was futile since it didn't solve the problems- she had learned from early childhood that it didn't.

She saw it as a sign of weakness if not foolishness because the time spent shedding tears could be utilised into solving the problems;

And this, she believed.

Other times, when her passion for decor,

aesthetics and even eating didn't do the trick- not even yoghurt from S'n'C, then there was the substance.

It became her muse.

Yet, in the hospital room, seeing her best friend break down in agony; the same whom she protected from hurt being hurt by her, she lost the hold she had on herself and the composure she'd had to build all the years of her maturity.

Nike sat there on the sofa, staring down at the powdery white substance in her palm.

She didn't give into it just yet.

She wanted to be sane for a little while so to think of a solution to the problem.

Momentarily, her cell phone rang.

She lazily pulled herself towards the dining table where it sat.

Then she answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Nike, this is Joan."

"Joe?" She called fondly also noticing the anxiousness in her voice.

"You need to go to the hospital right now!"

"The Institute? Why?! Did something happen to Rena?" Nike asked nervously as the worst case scenarios flashed in her mind.

"Yes, yes. She tried ... she tried killing herself again," Joan's voice was shaky.

"Suicide!" Nike exclaimed in a breathless tone.

She knew that it was dangerous to leave Rena's side.

She blamed herself.

In a fit of confusion mingled with terror and sadness, she hurriedly dashed into her bedroom and slid into a pair of dark jeans.

Then off she went to the Institute...

♧♧

Once Nike arrived at the hospital, she ran past the nurse's station, ignoring the protocols.

She raced through the hallway, peeping frantically into each glass door she ran past until she sighted someone that resembled Rena.

"Rena!" She yelled and dashed into the room.

"Rena?" It wasn't her. Nike froze in her steps for a while and then rushed out of the hospital room.

Right outside in the hallway, she ran into Mr and Mrs Dawson and Rena's doctor as well.

"Nike, you're here," Mrs Dawson announced.

Two nurses momentarily walked in on them, looking slightly distressed.

"What is the problem?" The doctor interrogated them.

"Doctor, this girl just ran past without signing in. She's constituting nuisance." One of the nurses explained.

"It's fine. Uhm, you can leave."

The nurses left.

"Please, which room is Rena in?" Nike asked the doctor in sheer desperation.

"She's in a temporary comatose state but once she gets out, you can see her." He turned to the Dawson couple and spoke; "If you will, please follow me to somewhere we can sit and chat about her condition."

"Can I come?" Nike asked anxiously.

Mrs Dawson looked at her with a hint of annoyance and disbelief.

"Do you realise this is a family matter?" She asked with sullen eyes- the woman had been weeping since the previous night.

"It's alright," her husband comforted, rubbing her shoulder gently. "Let her come. Nike is family."

Though reluctantly, the woman agreed and the young doctor led them to the Institute's cafeteria- a serene space where they could relax while discussing the delicate issue.

Maxwell knew his job quite well.

In the career of being a medical practitioner, the patients involved in the treatment process extends even to the family members of the ill.

"Would you like anything?- coffee?" The doctor offered but they all declined, too stressed out to ingest anything.

But Mr Dawson would not have any of that as concerned his wife.

He insisted she had something to eat and so ordered the coffee and a light snack for her.

"Okay," the young doctor cleared his throat, feeling the weight of the tension in the atmosphere.

"Rena is currently in a comatose state as I previously stated. Luckily, you got her to the hospital on time so there were no major damages caused by the attempted suicide."

He paused and keenly studied all their expressions.

Their faces were laced with worry and anticipation.

He continued; "Currently, she's on the verge of going into clinical depression which arises when one's mind is overly stressed and considering her health condition, she would need all the rest and medical attention she can get right now.

And that was why we had to sedate her so her mind would get the rest it needs while we monitor her body."

By the time he was done talking, Mrs Dawson had broken down further in the arms of her husband.

"What about the cancer?" She asked in a shaky voice with terror in her eyes.

The young doctor took off his glasses, set it down beside him on the table and clasped both palms.

♧♧♧

"Remarkably, your health doesn't seem to be diminishing or improving ... because, the symptoms are all gone, but from the tests we took earlier, the cancer cells are still present in your body.

Honestly Rena, from your overall state of being, you're slowly wasting away- your mental health..." He continued; "I'm no expert in this field but from what I see, you're dying inside and what ever it is that's haunting you just might kill you faster than cancer."

Maxwell studied the girl keenly with sad eyes- indeed, he felt great pity for her.

She was such an interesting, innocent-looking, seemingly cheerful young girl many years ago when he had first seen her.

As time went on, he watched her waste away before his eyes.

The dread of history reiterating shot through his body.

He'd already sworn to himself twice; firstly, not to let any of his patients go down without a fight and secondly, never to grow emotionally attached to any of them.

In this case, he had lost his control over the second so he had no choice but to at least fulfil the first.

"So in essence,..." her cold, hoarse voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "You're saying that I'm going mad?" She casually asked with a dreadfully blank expression on her face;

The kind that the dead wore.

"Not exactly but ... you see," He unwrapped his thetoscope and toyed with it as he spoke;

"Just like a computer would go into overdrive when you over work it without adequate maintenance, so is the human brain."

Rena sighed and adjusted on the bed.

"Okay," she responded blandly and laid down.

He momentarily weakened.

"You'll have to be here for a while so we can closely observe you ... and Rena, if you don't want to leave, it's completely fine. Your parents understand."

Maxwell looked for a response from her but she turned her head and looked out the window instead.

"Goodnight." He softly said admist his frustration and left her room.

When she heard the door click shut, she looked away from the window and tears gushed from her eyes.

Rena was devastated beyond even her own imagination.

The night before when she'd been thinking of whatever it was that brought happiness to her, she'd realised that nothing brought happiness to her ... at least, not her parents or even Nike anymore.

Her disappointment and anger originated from the fact that she'd expected her close and loved ones to believe and hope for her sake, but they had lost hope in her already.

She was scared ... scared that the frail, little rope which was their hope she dangled on was about to snap and plunge her into an everlasting fall..

She couldn't even trust herself anymore.

How then could she trust the God that seemed to have still believed.

But how could she be entirely sure that he wanted what she wanted?-

She couldn't.

He was a quite mysterious and unpredictable personality- at least when she tried, she failed most often times.

Rena didn't know where to stand or where she stood at the moment.

Sometimes, she assumed that the quickest way to peace was death; it was so calm, so warm, so mysterious, dark, yet, so right.

And what better way to be sent into such a dark, cosy pit but by your own self- suicide.

She shut her eyes for a few seconds, allowing her worries to be drowned in sleep.

Just as sleep was about to overtake Rena's eyes, she felt it again- the dark shadowy figure move across her eyes, merely a presence but she knew someone or something was present with her in the room.

It wasn't comforting and it somewhat felt like the dark, warm hole she had been seeking.

Nevertheless, she ignored it and drifted off to deep sleep.

It was the next morning and she pretty much woke up with a headache. Beside her was Nurse Kivu.

She wondered how long the nurse had been seated there.

The petite, young medical practitioner strode over to one end of the room in her well-starched, white dress and drew the peach curtains open.

"Good morning," Rena greeted as she tried to sit up on the bed.

The sunlight reflected against her cyan hospital dress causing it to momentarily appear bright green in colour.

Nurse Kivu fondly smiled at her.

"Good morning. Don't! I'll help you," she scolded and helped her patient sit up on the bed.

"Thank you," Rena said but she didn't need the help all that much.

The kind nurse served her breakfast and administered her medication as well.

She also helped her freshen up.

"Thank you," she said as Nurse Kivu had helped her with the hospital dress- it was light blue that day.

"Uhm, Rena I know about your condition and I know how difficult it is because my mother suffered it before she passed," the nurse explained.

"She passed?!" Rena exclaimed with a pang of terror in her tone.

"Yea, but she was quite old; had all eleven of us." Kivu replied.

"Oh!- eleven." Rena muttered in shock and disbelief.

"Yea, but there was another peculiar thing about her condition," she continued; "It seemed that the woman was dying faster than the disease killed her ... and that’s like in your case, Rena."

Silence reigned in the room for about half a minute.

"Faster than the disease?" Rena repeated.

"Yea!"

"So that means ... she would have made it if there wasn't something that killed her besides the disease?"

"Exactly."

"So she had two diseases?"

"Not quite. My mama had died in her own mind long before her body passed with it," Nurse Kivu explained with a surprisingly calm demeanour.

Goosebumps crept across Rena's brown skin.

There was a lot of sense in what the nurse was saying.

Did that mean that she too had died long ago inside of her mind?!- she hoped not.

But the truth was as clear as day.

"Okay!" Nurse Kivu enthusiastically exclaimed. "I'll tell Dr. Maxwell that he can see you now, hmm?"

Rena nodded mechanically, not batting an eyelid.

The young nurse dashed out of the room, disappearing behind the glass doors.

A little while later, she returned with the young doctor towering behind her petite form like a giant.

He clicked eye contact with Rena but didn't speak a word until he neared her bed.

"Hi, Rena. How did you sleep?" His sonorous voice enveloped the ambiance.

The girl stiffened for a moment and then nodded in response.

Momentarily, Nurse Kivu excused them as he'd gestured her to.

"How do you feel?"

She nodded once more.

"I ... consulted an expert concerning your case," he explained. "He'd like to meet with you in person for a checkup so to make a diagnosis. He'll need a time so, how about this afternoon?" He asked.

The girl sat on the bed, unnaturally still for a half a minute.

The young doctor took a deep, nervous breath- he was used to her eerie ways of communication but it still shook him a bit.

Maxwell gracefully strode across a corner of the room and drew himself a drink from the water dispenser.

He placed the cup to his lip and took long gulps.

"Is it possible for a person to die in the mind even before their actual death?" Her soft, nasal voice pierced through the silence, nearly choking him.

"Sorry," she muttered an unheard apology.

The young doctor coughed for a little while before he stopped and fixed his eyes on her.

"Sorry," she apologised a little louder this time.

He put down the cup and walked towards her.

"It's fine. You asked if someone could die in their mind?"

"Yea."

"Well, yes. People who battle with mental or psychological disorders are practically battling with the life of their minds.

Because, when the mind is dead already, there's no point if the body goes on because it goes on without the direction of the mind and this could disrupt a person's regular way of living and lead to meaningless living in the end."

Maxwell watched her scrunch her brows in curiosity and intrigue.

"I thought you weren't an expert," she asked.

"Well ... it's always good to have a little knowledge of everything. Plus, the specialist is my good friend." A warm smile spread across his face.

Rena loved the feel of it- she smiled too.

"This afternoon, right?" She asked with a spark in her eyes.

He nodded. "And, it doesn't have to be here!" He added and saw her muster a confused look.

"I mean, there's a nice serene cafeteria outside this block. A change of environment would do you some good." He explained, suddenly interested in studying his shoes.

Rena nodded slowly. "Ok," he heard her soft voice echo.

Later in the afternoon of the day, Kivu helped Rena change into a dress that wasn't the hospital dress she always wore.

The cafeteria was a fresh space and Dr. Maxwell had recommended that she wore something different from the hospital dress.

And she concurred because she didn't like it either.

It made her feel like an actual psychotic patient.

Rena possessed shoulder-lenght dark, curly hair and Nurse Kivu helped her wrap it into a neat, puffy bun at the back of her head.

As she gazed into the mirror she was handed, an image flashed inside of her mind- Nike, she thought.

Her expression turned serious as she thought about her friend and the gap she'd left behind.

"Fake friend ... betraying bitch," she muttered under her breath.

"Did you say something?" The nurse asked in her tiny, soothing voice.

"No ... it was nothing."

"Are you ready?" She asked, rubbing her patient's shoulders fondly.

Rena nodded.

"I'll call now to inform Doctor Maxwell that you're ready for the appointment." She explained.

Rena rose from the chair she was seated on and looked down at the dress, examining it slowly.

It was a flay off-shoulder, floral dress with pink and yellow flowers on a white background.

"Do you like it?" Nurse Kivu asked.

"Yea, it's a nice dress."

"I found it in the bag your parents had packed for your stay in the hospital," she explained.

"This is actually my sister's. She likes this sort of things but not me. Do you think it's possible for me to change into a tee and jeans instead? I'll feel more comfortable in those."

Rena said as she fidgeted with the hem of the dress.

"Your sister's? You have a sister?" Nurse Kivu asked with widened eyes and retrieved a pair of grey jeans and a green checked shirt from Rena's bag.

"A twin actually!" She remarked with a smile.

"That's so nice to hear ... but sorry to ask.

Why hasn't she visited you here yet?" Kivu asked with brows scrunched up in sheer curiosity.

"Well," Rena begun. "She lives and studies out of town."

"Oh that's too bad." She handed Rena the clothes. "You must miss her a lot."

"Only sometimes, though. We don't really get along," she chuckled lightly and slid into the jeans and shirt.

"Oh."

"Yea."

Kivu went to the end of the room and made a phonecall.

"The doctor says he'll be with you in five minutes and your parents are here as well and they'd be seeing the specialist alongside you." She announced.

Rena felt her heart thump momentarily. A sour knot formed in her stomach.

"Okay," she managed to voice.

It wasn't long before a knock sounded on the door.

The young nurse went and opened the door and in came Rena's parents.

"Renie!" Her father's voice was the first to resonate in the room as he advanced towards her with open arms.

Her mother sluggishly, rather almost lifelessly followed behind him with a sullen expression on her face.

"How are you doing my dear?" He asked. The girl nodded.

Unnoticed, Nurse Kivu slipped out.

"Maxwell was right afterall. Your staying here is for the better. You look so alive!

I got you some bread from Mandy's." He waved the plastic bag in front of her face and she mustered a faint smile.

"Thank you, daddy."

"Now, come here." Mr Dawson took her hand and they went and sat on the bed, enjoying the window view and slight breeze.

"Remember that everything works out for good." He encouraged her.

Rena tipped her head forward and let out a heavy sigh.

"I remember, daddy."

"And this is all just a phase, not the end." He continued.

She nodded; eyes began to water.

"I know ... you are not sick. And I had told you before and I'm telling you now that whatever that's causing my baby girl to slip away slowly will be broken." He declared.

"Amen, daddy." Rena muttered, fighting back tears; she didn't want to cause daddy distress.

She glanced around the environ as her eyes fell on her mother who stood at the end of the room, looking like a ghost of herself.

"Is mummy okay?"

"Your mother?- she's been very worried about your condition," he explained.

But Rena knew it was more than that, especially in the way that mummy froze right on the spot staring at who knows what.

"Honey, are you okay?" Mr Dawson asked his wife, slightly alarmed.

When she didn't respond but just kept staring, Rena and her father tried to trace what she'd been looking at.

"Rena ... why is this here?" She asked.

Mr Dawson rushed over to his wife's side to comfort her.

"Are you okay? Nurse?" He called for help feeling distressed.

Rena's eyes searched the room till they fell on the floral dress.

"How did this get here?" Mrs Dawson broke free of her husband's protective grip and went to pick up the dress from the chair where it was sprawled over.

"It was in my bag." Rena muttered coldly with a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Why is it here?" The woman evidently shook with fear, no- terror.

"Rena what's wrong with the dress?" Mr Dawson chipped in, feeling utterly confused.

The girl shook her head and replied; "It's Jenna's." She slowly replied, still struggling to comprehend the situation.

The same dread in his wife's eyes shot through his body.

"Why are you with it?"

"I- was about putting it on but I ... I decided to change into a shirt and jeans," Rena explained. "She'd forgotten it in my wardrobe long before she went to study." She concluded.

There was a piercing silence in the room as the couple stared at their daughter, looking deeply devastated.

Mrs Dawson collapsed- unconscious.

Her husband hastily called for medical attention.

Rena broke down in tears out of fear and disarray.

Momentarily, Doctor Maxwell entered the room and met the chaotic scenario. Nurse Kivu lingered behind him, sticking out her neck from behind to see what had went wrong.

♧♧

It was 9:00pm precisely. In his office at the Institute, Maxwell sat with a trusted friend of his- not Stella.

The man was about a decade older but they got along nicely. Nicely?- No, they were bosom friends.

Mr Dawson the father of his patient also sat with them and the men shared mugs of dark coffee as well.

Maxwell adjusted himself on his seat and put down his mug. "We've managed to stabilise them both. Your wife's just suffered a minor shock and Rena ... she's fine from what I can detect.

Her mind is just stressed and she'd need all the rest she can get. It seems the stress isn't just from this incident, sir."

Mr Dawson listened attentively.

"But, that's not my area of specialisation so Doctor Bayo would carry on from here," he explained and sipped his drink.

"Uhm," the man cleared his throat. He was a dark-skinned middle-aged man with a goatee and a naturally calm demeanour.

"Yea, the girl in question is suffering from intense psychological stress from minor traumas that have accumulated inside of her mind over a prolonged period of time.

And I don't know for sure if this is also the cause of her lack of symptoms even when the cancer cells have been found in her body but there is this medical condition caused by an intense fear of a disease that could make one experience the symptoms of the disease as though they had it."

He expertly explained.

Mr Dawson had his head buried in his palms but briefly lifted it up to breathe.

"Nevertheless, it can't be it because the cancer is developing inside of her and fast too, but she doesn't seem to be diminishing physically ... It's like nothing we've ever seen, sir." Maxwell chipped in.

"So you're saying that whatever that is wrong with my daughter is in her mind and has now begun to manifest in her body."

"Precisely," Doctor Bayo replied.

There was a tense silence in the room as both doctors examined Rena's files and they all savoured their drinks.

"I think I might know what is wrong with her..." Mr Dawson's voice was unusually cold as he spoke.

"Okay!"

The practitioners anticipated.

"You see, ..." A distant expression was plastered across his face. "My daughter, Jenna died eight years ago..." his voice trailed off in a solemn whisper.

♧♧

The door of Rena's hospital room slowly swung open and suddenly, the young doctor stood at the entrance of the room.

The place was dimly lit as prescribed, to help the patient sleep more soundly. He took slow strides to the girl's bed and stood there, towering over her like a guardian angel.

There was a sullen expression on his face- he was devastated.

"Not another one," he whispered and fell to his knees and broke down.

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