Chapter 7
“Ow!”
I groaned as I grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling it hard just because I don’t know what to do with the pain anymore. I’ve had this pounding headache since, well…since I woke up this morning.
Great.
Wait... Great.
Great, indeed, is the word for my pounding headache. Now I don’t have to go to that dinner my mom was forcing me to go to. Yey!
I took my cell phone from the bed side table and flipped it open. 30 messages and 40 missed calls.
Cool.
I’ve never had those numbers of messages and missed calls before. I smirked as I opened the missed call list. All were from my mom, no surprise. She always does that, call me multiple times, when there’s something that I need to do...for her; but 40 is too much. The messages were from different people, though. But I chose to open my mom’s 11 messages first.
Is it that hard to just say ‘mom, I don’t want to go to the dinner’? was what the first one said. I rolled my eyes. I did tell her, millions of times, but she wouldn’t listen. Rather, she didn’t want to listen. Hmm, so much for that. The next message:
What’s your problem? Why aren’t you answering my calls? Are you rebelling?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
I frowned. Why did she have to send “Where are you?” multiple times? She could’ve just gone here, she knows where I live. I sighed as I read the next message.
Tell me where you are, I’m very worried.
Please tell me what I saw wasn’t true.
What was my mom talking about? I frowned, confusion filling my mind. Wait. I opened the first message again: “Is it that hard to just say ‘mom, I don’t want to go to the dinner’? “. What’s she talking about? The dinner hasn’t even happened, yet she’s already saying that.
My mom is sometimes weird; I hope she’s aware of that. I opened the next messages. “Where are you?”
Funny—she knows where I live, she has a spare key, and she knew that if I’m not at our house, I would be here. Why didn’t she come over? I shook my head then dialed her number.
“…please try again later.”
“Mom, I~” wait a second…
“…or out of coverage area, please try again later.”
I stared at my cell phone to see that the call had already dropped.
No…way.
My mom never lets a call wait for too long, not even when she’s in the shower or is very angry at the caller; she answers right away!
Something weird is going on.
“Ow!”
And my pounding headache is still present.
***
I must have fallen asleep, again (because of the freaking headache), because when I woke up, it was already dark outside. Checking the digital alarm clock on the bedside table, it indicated that the dark made sense, it was already 2 a.m.
2 a.m.? Wait. What time did I leave home? Around 1 a.m.? If I left home at 1 a.m., then what am I doing home…again?
This is not good, I’m having…
“Oh! You’re awake!”
The owner of the voice entered the room (without invitation) and sat at the foot of my bed, “I thought you were dead.”
“Dead?” I shook my head, “Excuse me! What are you doing in my…house?”
“Your house?” he chuckled.
I was just about to protest when I realized something. I never had a digital clock, I never liked those…they make me feel lazy. And since when did I have medical books? I gave the room a better look; it had a lot of boys stuff. Something in the corner beside the medical books caught my attention, glossy paper—magazines of…I looked away, it’s obvious what they are. Oh…my…gosh! This really isn’t my room, well, let alone my house.
I looked at him, he was looking at me. I gulped, where am I? “Where…am I?” I asked.
“Uh, you’re in my house.” Duh, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.
“Okay, got that. But, why am I here? And…who are you?”
“I…”
“Ow!” the headache was back, it’s driving me crazy.
“Are you alright?”
“No!” I sounded a bit harsh than I intended to, “I’ve had this headache ever since I woke up this morning.”
“Wait. You woke up this morning?”
His voice was making my head ache more, and he might’ve noticed it because he went out of the room. But a minute later, he came back with water.
“Drink this” on his other hand was medicine; I took it and drank it. He helped my lie down on the bed, I didn’t protest because I really couldn’t think and act well with the pain.
“I guess you hit your head harder than I expected.”
“Huh?” I looked at him, my vision was blurry, but I still did, “What did you say? What happened, anyway?”
“You were in a car crash.”
“I was included? Gosh, I thought I was just watching.” I nodded, “And then? Why am I here? Why didn’t you bring me to the hospital?”
“I would’ve if I didn’t find you in the road in-front of my house.”
“You…what? Wait, the place where the car crash happened. There weren’t houses anywhere. It was beside a mountain.”
He shrugged, “I don’t really know what happened, you know. Because, people never really go to this place. I just assumed you were in a car crash judging by your bruises and your seat belt left a mark somewhere on your neck…it didn’t look like you were choked by someone.”
I fell silent, thinking of what happened. The last thing I remember was a headlight.
“So, okay. You found me, in-front of your house?”
“Yup!”
“No IDs, no wallet?”
“None, just your cellphone.”
“That’s weird.”
He gave me a confused look, “Why?”
“Because, I was thinking, if I was robbed, they could’ve taken my cellphone too, but they didn’t. And they didn’t kill me. And…” he was laughing, “Why are you laughing?”
“Oh, please. Why would they want to rob a high school student?”
“What do you mean…? Hey! How did you know I’m a high school student? You’re stalking me, aren’t you? You planned all this you…”
“Hey, it’s obvious that you’re a high school student. By the way act and talk, definitely high school.”
I lied back and hid my head under a pillow, not caring if it’s his or he’s there or whatever.
He chuckled, “But then again, that headache could just be caused by your heavy sleeping.”
I took the pillow away from my face and glared at him, the headache was gone. “What do you mean by that?”
“I found you Friday morning, today’s already Tuesday.”
“It’s not funny.”
“I’m serious.”
I looked at him for a few more seconds before looking away, he is serious.
“Isn’t that, like, a coma?”
He nodded, “Yea. You could even pass as dead, you know.” He laughed, what’s funny about that?
I motioned to stand up, “I’m going home.”
“And how do you suppose you’re going to do that?”
“Ride my car and drive away.”
He shook his head, making me confused. “Your car’s nowhere here, miss.”
“Huh? Where is it?”
He sighed, “When I found you; I only saw you and your cellphone, lying on the ground in a puddle of blood.”
“P-puddle of, b…blood?”
I shivered, I hate blood. I hate gory thoughts; I think I’m going to be sick.
He laughed, this man is crazy! “I’m just kidding. There weren’t really blood; you even only have a few bruises. Only one bled the most, your left arm.”
I glanced at my left arm to see a bandage wrapped around it. Why didn’t I notice that earlier? I’m really going to be sick.
“Best thing to do is rest—I’ll just bring your supper here.”
He turned to leave. “H-hey, wait a minute.” He faced me, cocking an eyebrow, “Yes?”
“Can…can you help me get home?”
He gave me an apologetic look, “I would if I could; but I ran out of gasoline. And the guy who brings my supply comes only every two weeks. He came here today so he’ll be back after two weeks.” He sighed, “And by the way, there’s no reception for cell phones here. I don’t have a telephone and I have no internet.”
I groaned, is this a modern man?
“Sorry, but I go here when I’m sick of the city life.”
“Where exactly are we?”
He shrugged, “I’m not really sure. But I call this place Paradise. Cliché as it is, but that’s what I call this place. I actually just found this accidentally, and no other people lives nearby; the closest maybe the next town, which is about two hours away.”
“What? Seriously? But what about that guy who brings you stuff?”
“Oh, that’s my personal man-servant. Only I and he know of this place.”
“Oh.” Personal man-servant, eh? Wow.
“I’m Tiffany Anne Chang, by the way.” I offered; we have to know each other somehow. And shoot! Why did I say my second name? That’s not included: scratch tha…
He smiled; my eyes were less blurry now. He was…a sight to see. “Jonathan James Lee; and I’ll be back with your supper.”
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