In the serene corridor, Hamish leaned against a wall, his head bowed and shadow enveloping his entire face. His whole demeanor exuded a heavy air, causing the passing cleaning lady to keep her distance.
Elisa was undergoing yet another rescue operation. This marked the ninth rescue in the ninety days of her hospitalization. The older generation says that cats have nine lives, but how many does Elisa have?
Each time Elisa was rushed into the emergency room, Hamish regretted so much that he wished to end his own life. His heart was wrung with pain, a sense of helplessness engulfing him like driftwood on the open sea.
Tobias arrived again today and found it odd to see Hamish in the corridor. Every time he visited, Hamish would always be in the ward, rarely moving. Why was he out in the corridor today?
Tobias, being perceptive, sensed that something was amiss even before he approached. Standing a meter away from Hamish, he halted. “Mr. Burns, why are you here…” The question felt abrupt. After all, he was just a subordinate and shouldn’t pry into the boss’s affairs. Even if he was curious, he should have kept it to himself.
Seeking to change the subject, Tobias noticed Hamish, who was still bowing his head, muttering in a hoarse voice, “Elisa is awake.”
“Mrs. Burns is awake? Then why aren’t you…” Tobias suddenly fell silent as he noticed the light on the door of the emergency room not far away. This explained why Hamish was standing at the door instead of being with Elisa.
Tobias watched as Hamish continued to massage his temples and couldn’t help but softly say, “Don’t worry, Mr. Burns. If Mrs. Burns is awake, it means she’s fine.”
For someone who had been in a vegetative state for three months to awaken was a miracle in itself. What else could be deemed impossible?
“Mrs. Burns is fortunate; nothing will happen to her,” Tobias reassured, sounding almost like an old lady.
But Hamish didn’t absorb any of these words. The pain in his heart stemmed not only from Elisa’s fragile state but also from the unbridgeable chasm between them.
Seeing the terror in Elisa’s eyes upon waking, he knew they could never return to the past. Elisa could never forgive him. When she was suffering from stomach cancer, her husband had pushed her into an abyss of despair, where she languished in torment, utterly despondent.
An hour later, Elisa was finally wheeled out of the emergency room. Her complexion remained pale, her lips a bluish tint. Even in slumber, her brows remained furrowed in anguish, as if struggling within a nightmare.
Elisa’s fragility once again pierced Hamish’s heart. She had only temporarily escaped danger; such situations could arise again.
Then there was her illness. Late-stage stomach cancer was irreparable, and no one knew how long she would live.
The doctor truthfully informed Hamish about Elisa’s condition. Hamish was distraught, his gaze adrift, unable to focus on Elisa.
In the end, it was Tobias who remembered everything. In summary, the injuries Elisa had suffered far exceeded the threshold of an ordinary person.
The doctor’s mention of injuries referred to her stomach cancer and the five injections into her brain. The late-stage stomach cancer had been diagnosed a year ago, and enduring until now was an achievement in itself. The five injections, which destroyed her nerves, further compounded her physical distress.
Moreover, given Elisa’s previous tendencies toward autism and depression, her brain was now extremely weakened by the medication.
“What will be the consequences?” Hamish asked. He was willing to bear any outcome, even if it meant facing a future with a mentally unstable individual, as long as Elisa didn’t die.
But Hamish’s thoughts were too simplistic.
“The dosage of those five injections has left Miss Powell disoriented, with memory disturbances.”
“What does memory disturbance mean?”
“We are currently preliminary determining two scenarios. The good one is complete amnesia, forgetting everything. The bad one is remembering only fearful things, like just now.”
“Fear is an inevitable negative emotion, but someone perpetually trapped in fear, tension, anxiety, and dread, even if Elisa didn’t have stomach cancer, would still perish.”
“How can we make her forget everything?” Hamish drifted into fantasy. If Elisa could forget everything, could they start anew? If she truly lost her memory, this time he would cherish and protect her, never letting her get hurt again.
However, the doctor shook his head. “These are not within our control, Mr. Burns. We suggest you stay away temporarily. I fear that when Miss Powell wakes up and sees you…” The unspoken continuation was evident.
Hamish nodded. He couldn’t be near Elisa when she was conscious, and he didn’t know when she would wake up. He dared not stay in the ward and could only step outside, standing in the hospital corridor, watching her from afar.
The hospital’s psychiatrist came to provide Elisa with psychological counseling, but her condition was far from that of an ordinary psychiatric patient. Both physically and mentally, she had endured severe trauma, and those wounds were etched into her soul, causing excruciating pain at the mere thought of them.
Whenever she saw people, she would scream in fear, and when she saw the doctor preparing a sedative injection, her pleas for mercy intensified.
“Don’t give me a shot, I’m scared of the pain…”
Standing outside the room, Hamish felt a chill run through his body. Elisa’s pleas seemed to transform into sharp blades, relentlessly piercing his heart and soul.
Over the past few days, Elisa had confined herself under the covers. At the slightest noise, she would jolt up from the bed, anxiously scanning her surroundings like a frightened kitten.
She feared everyone in that place, but above all, she feared Hamish. Her memory might have been hazy, but she remembered all the harm he had caused her.
Hamish stood outside, stealing glances through the door’s glass pane.
Elisa’s head hung low, her chin almost touching her chest, her entire body trembling. Witnessing her in this state felt like someone was cutting into his flesh with a sharp knife.
The hospital’s psychiatrist conducted two counseling sessions with Elisa every day-once in the morning and once in the afternoon. After these sessions, Elisa seemed less panicked than before, but the sustained mental strain made her already slender frame appear even more emaciated.
Under the guidance of the psychiatrist, Elisa began to speak. She glanced around and, upon seeing the light on the wall, pointed and said, “That’s a camera. He’s watching me from there.”
“Who is he?” the doctor inquired.
Elisa huddled at the head of the bed, her back against the cabinet, her eyes unconsciously fixed on the floor tiles. Holding her knees, she faintly whispered a single word, “A ghost.”
“What did he do to you?” The doctor’s aim was to help Elisa confront her past, to make her understand that it was over and she didn’t need to be trapped in it anymore.
Elisa stiffened, then lowered her head, gazing at her hands. “He… he stuck steel needles under my fingernails and gave me injections.”
“Your hands are healed now, and you won’t be given any more injections.”
Elisa shook her head, her face contorted in madness. She clutched her neck, feeling something wrong, then pulled down her collar, revealing a very distinct scar on her collarbone.
She pointed to her collarbone. “He pierced me here.”
Seeing this, the doctor too felt a stabbing pain in his heart. When he was asked to provide psychological counseling to Elisa, he was informed of the severe trauma she had endured. He had considered various scenarios, but what the patient had undergone exceeded his imagination. He dared not touch Elisa and could only crouch down, meeting her gaze, and softly say, “The implement in your collarbone has been removed, and the wound has healed.”
Elisa shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “It won’t be okay, it can never be okay.”
The hurt was not just physical; it was the heart that felt the pain. She had forgotten many things, and besides the pain, she felt like she had lost something very important, something she could never find again.
Her heart felt as if it had been half-eaten, becoming hollow, leaving her restless.
“Elisa, don’t cry, I can help you.”
Upon hearing the word “help,” Elisa’s body tensed suddenly. She hugged her knees tightly, her eyelashes trembling as she looked up at the doctor in front of her.
“Can you give me a gun?” Elisa asked carefully.
“What do you need a gun for?” the doctor replied.
Elisa said, “To shoot myself…”
The doctor opened his mouth but found no words to say.
After that, Elisa went mad as usual. She feared needles, and the doctor dared not sedate her; he could only coax her into taking her medicine.
Elisa curled up in bed like an insecure child, feeling the chill beneath the covers, embracing her body, even her pain was silent and unobtrusive.
She looked at the familiar silhouette on the door and windows, then wearily closed her eyes.
Elisa’s consciousness became increasingly unclear, speaking in fragments, often forgetting mid-sentence.
This situation was much better than before; at least her emotions had stabilized.
But only Elisa herself knew that she was like a prisoner on the brink of collapse, and the bed beneath her was a torture rack, no matter how she positioned herself, it was painful.
Sometimes she even felt as though her soul had left her body, floating in mid-air, watching her own self weeping bitterly below. She could hear the extent of her own cries, howling, and sorrowful. She felt so sad and wanted to cry, but her soul had long since dried up.
What is it to be alive, after all? She no longer knew, terrified to the extreme, only death could be her release.
Her soul, floating in mid-air, found peace. Elisa slept a long sleep, murmuring, “Will you carry me home?”
Who would carry her home? She couldn’t remember.
Hamish stared at her intently, a pained expression on his face. He gently caressed her face and kissed her lips.
After learning from previous mistakes and with the doctor’s warning, Hamish didn’t dare enter the ward when Elisa was awake. He would only sneak in when she was asleep, then sit quietly by her bed, always staying the whole night.
Making amends for wrongdoing wasn’t enough; when a heart dies, nothing can make up for it. Hamish had learned to cherish and love her, but it was already too late.
There was a wall between them, dividing their two worlds. He was on the riverbank, and Elisa was submerged in the depths of the sea.
If Elisa died, he wouldn’t want anything else; he would die with her.