I bolted upright in bed, sweat beading on my forehead as I gasped for breath. My heart raced, and my body trembled. I glanced around the dark hospital room, realizing I was alone.
That dream… What did it mean?
Furrowing my brow, I thought about Mom. We were in that car together, and the accident took her life. I was the sole survivor. So, what did that woman mean when she said it was staged?
Should I trust her words?
As my body calmed down, I took a deep breath. First, I needed to find out more about that woman. I recalled seeing her in my past dreams. She and Simmy often appeared, but it was the first time she mentioned Mom.
If those dreams were just figments of my imagination, why did I keep dreaming of being trapped in that white room?
My eyes scanned the white hospital room around me. It wasn’t the exact same as in my dream, but the atmosphere felt eerily similar. It was like being confined in a hospital room meant for someone mentally ill rather than a regular patient.
I held my breath. Mentally ill. Right. Thinking about it, I often dreamt of that woman holding a syringe, and Simmy in a red dress. I would babble nonsense, ask strange questions, and even call Simmy “Mom,” something I would never do in my right mind.
So… had I lost my mind when I was younger?
Suddenly, the lights in my white room flickered on, and the door opened. A man in a coat entered-it was Robert.
My heart raced at the sight of him. I remembered our plan and pushed aside my assumptions.
I watched him approach, holding my breath, feeling on edge and slightly confused by his sudden appearance. I hoped no one would suddenly appear at the open door tomorrow. I knew about Dad’s strange mind and the people he would in to harm.
“Can you stand, Miss?” Robert asked. There was a coldness in his voice.
I nodded and stood up from the bed. My knees suddenly went out under me, and I sat back down. I awkwardly smiled at Robert. “Wait,” I said as I stretched out my legs.
I saw the corner of his mouth twitch out of the corner of his mouth. My lips pressed into a thin line. I knew that scornful face of his.
“Let’s go,” I said, hiding my embarrassment from him.
We walked toward the door, and my mouth gaped when I saw a lot of men lying on the cold, white floor of the hospital.
“Did you kill them?” I looked up at him.
He shook his head. “I just put them to sleep, Miss.”
“Then I shouldn’t go. If Dad saw this scene and I went missing, he would file a missing person report! With his status in this society, he could mobilize the police and I would be found in no time!”
Robert stared at me like I was the dumbest girl he’d ever seen. I rolled my eyes at him.
“I came here for nothing but that if you will not follow me outside,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Geez.” I hissed and went back inside my room.
I heard Robert breathe before he followed me inside. I looked around and I saw the sticky notes in the bedside table. That sticky note was from a nurse and I asked it from her. Just in case I was bored enough to write something and put it on the wall.
I got it and wrote it. Robert stood beside me and leaned over to read the letters I had wrote on the sticky notes.
He snorted and chuckled. “You’ll escape, but you’ll let him know?”
“Shut up.” I pouted. “He must know that it is my plan to escape. To not assume that his child is kidnapped.”
“Do you think there is a line between kidnapping and your escape?”
I looked sideways at him and knotted my brows. “You’re nosy.”
He just grinned at me before he stood straight and walked towards the door. “Hurry up,” he reminded me.
I did not rebute him again and just wrote faster on the sticky note. I told him that I am okay and it is my idea to escape from the hospital. I pasted that note on the wall beside the headboard. My eyes stayed on the paper for awhile.
But Dad might think that the kidnappers forced me to write that note down. I sighed and wrote on another sticky note.
I wrote that I had enough of Simmy and that I had dreamt of my mother and someone who told me that I and mother’s accident was staged. I wanted to know what happened to mother.
After I wrote that one, my lips curved into a thin line. Surely, Dad would not think that it was out of my will. He would certainly know that it was my idea. Then I pasted that beside the first sticky note.
“Are you done?”
I jumped out of fright. I hissed and looked at Robert who was leaning on the door. He had a smirk pasted on his lips. I scorned at him. “You really had the guts to startle me,” I said in an accusing tone.
Robert chuckled but said nothing. He went outside the door and I followed him. The number of men lying on the cold, hard, white floor exceeded my expectations. I looked at Robert who was walking beside me. He kept on looking ahead and had a stoic expression on his face.
I realized that Robert had changed. He was not the same person I had met months ago.