CRIMSON DONOVAN

Completely exhausted after a long day of school, I collapse onto my bed. It's been two months now since I moved here, but with the help of my friends, I'm finally starting to settle in. Summoning all the willpower I can muster, I drag myself to the shower before heading to the kitchen to have lunch with Uncle Josh. Ever since that day when we visited the lake, my friends have been regular visitors, much to Uncle Josh's occasional annoyance.

Even now, he was complaining about how he despised 'those meddlin' meddlers'. "I will say this again, Miss," he starts. "Bringing 'em 'ere is no good! The lake's no tourist attraction!"

"Indeed, it is not," I reply with a nod of my head.

"Ye understand, no? They will destroy the place! That beautiful lake built by Sir's parents; ye grandparents! I remember those days! When I was little; how they built the lake and this 'ouse. I vowed to protect it with my life!"

I often find myself wondering if Uncle Josh was some sort of Head Guard to a medieval king in his past life, fiercely protecting his kingdom from potential invaders.

"Don't worry, they won't destroy the place. They are good people. I'm with them the whole time, Uncle Josh," I reassure him, hoping to ease his concerns.

"But-"

He is luckily cut off when my phone rings. Thank you, my saviour.

"Well, this is an important call, Uncle Josh. Sorry to cut this pleasant conversation short, but I got to take this!" And I rush outside to the porch before he could protest.

As I answer the call, I notice that it's from an unknown number. With a frown, I say, "Hello?"

The voice on the other end sounds gruff and professional. "Hello, am I speaking to Crimson Donovan?"

"Yes, that's me."

"This is Inspector Charlton speaking. I've called to inform you that your father is at the hospital and-"

"Room number? Floor number? Please tell me," I interrupt, my voice filled with urgency.

The inspector seems taken aback by my sudden outburst, but he quickly gives me the information I need before I thank him and end the call. Without wasting a moment, I rush past Uncle Josh who looks concerned, shouting, "I'll be back soon!" I quickly jump into my car and speed off towards the hospital.

With great urgency, I manage to successfully park the car, rush through the white hallways, and press the elevator button vigorously to take me to the fifth floor. Once I arrive at the designated floor, I immediately search for my father's room.

Despite the information I got from Inspector Charlton, I could have easily located my father's room as there were a significant number of policemen guarding the area. I quickly present my identification to a surprised officer, who promptly allowed me access. In a hurry, I swiftly pass through and enter the white room.

As I take in the scene, my wide eyes frantically scan over my father's body and his leg, which was in a cast and elevated on the bed, wrapped in bandages.

"Hey there, Crimson," my father greets me casually, as he pops a grape into his mouth.

I regard him skeptically, "Dad, what's going on? Are you okay? Why are there so many officers outside your room? It's scaring the nurses and causing a commotion," I question, wanting an explanation for the chaotic scene.

My father turns his head to the man standing beside his bed, whom I just noticed along with another person. "Charlton, I believe I asked you to send everyone back to their posts and stations," he states firmly.

"Chief, they're just concerned for your safety. Even though I asked them to leave, they refuse to do so," the man I identify as Inspector Charlton, the one who called me here, responds.

"Deputy Inspector Charlton, I wasn't aware that we had relocated the entire police station into the hospital. This is just a broken leg, nothing more. Now, if you and your colleagues could please leave, my dear daughter is here to take care of me," my father instructs, making it clear that he wants the police officers to leave.

Inspector Charlton and the other policeman turn to face me and stand up straight. "Miss Donovan, we apologize for any inconvenience caused. We will make sure he won't be hurt again," Inspector Charlton says.

"Uhm, just call me Crimson, please. And thank you for reaching out to me and taking care of my father," I respond a little bashfully as the other Inspector comes forward and enthusiastically shakes my hand, "It's our duty to serve and protect, Crimson," he chimes in. "I'm Inspector Joyce, I just joined the force recently. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Oh damn, I'm pretty sure this man was the one who was chasing us that night at The Abandoned Bridge. "I'm pleased to meet you too, officers. I will take over from now on," I say politely. "Thank you so much for worrying about my father."

"It's no problem," Inspector Joyce says. Then they turn towards my father and salute him, to which he reciprocates, and they leave the room quietly.

I walk over to my father with a disapproving look on my face and tap his bandaged leg. "Come on, dad. You're being pampered like a baby here. It's not fair," I say, my scowl a dark shadow, casting a gloom over my Dad.

But my father doesn't seem to register my words. Instead, he looks at me with concern in his eyes. "Crimson, are you okay? I told Charlton not to call you, but he insisted and went against my wishes. If you're feeling overwhelmed, you can go back home," he says, his voice filled with worry.

I tilt my head in confusion, trying to process my father's words. When the realization dawns on me, I feel a wave of emotions wash over me like a river breaking through its banks. I take a shaky seat next to my father's bed, feeling swamped like a boat struggling to stay afloat.

"I'm so sorry..."

"I tried...but I can't anymore...I'm sorry..."

Blood

Blood 

I sat under our tree, alone, for the first time in 10 years. The leaves falling from the tree showered the ground, mourning your loss as I thought about you, what you would've said if you were here, with me, under the tree, as we basked in the Autumn wind. A leaf landed on my hand, and a tear dropped onto it, without my awareness. Wherever you are, are you thinking about me the way I think about you every day? "I'm leaving," I whispered to the tree, because she was not here anymore; because this tree was only what was left by her. "I'll see you next year, grow well."

The flashback suddenly haunts me as I squeeze my eyes, holding my tears back.

The last time my father and I had been in a hospital together, it had been a traumatic experience. Ever since then, I have tried my best to avoid hospitals whenever possible. But upon hearing that my father was injured and in the hospital, my only thought was to get to him as soon as possible, having no time for any other thoughts.

My father opens his arms wide, and without hesitation, I throw myself into his embrace. He hugs me tightly, and I relax in his warm and reassuring hold. We stay like that for a while, finding comfort in the silent embrace. "Gwenchan-sumnida(I'm fine), don't worry about me," I mumble into his chest and sit up. "So, what happened to your leg, Dad?"

My father pulls away slightly and explains, "We were chasing some druggies, and we caught them, but one of them got me in the leg. I was being careless," he says. "Listen, Crimson, you have to be aware and cautious when arresting prisoners. Never let your guard down until they are securely locked up. Don't think all's swell once you have them in your grasp," he advices, and I nod my head determinedly, taking his words to heart. "Yes, sir," I reply.

My father continues to speak, shifting the conversation to his colleagues at the police station. "Well, the policemen in the station are still stiff around me. They are having a new Chief after all. They are jumpy around me as if expecting me to lash out anytime. Maybe that's why they were all fuzzy like mother hens today. I swear, they almost lost their sanity when I was shot today. It was just a graze wound," he complains with a childish pout. "Perhaps their former Chief was too strict. But they are good folks; people at the station. I'm excited to work there."

"I feel bored at home though. I miss having a job, can I apply to one?" I ask him and he nods thoughtfully at my request, "Well, as long as it doesn't take up all your time and interfere with your studies, you can apply for a job. Just make sure you balance your responsibilities well, okay?" he reminds me, his tone serious but gentle.

I listen attentively as my father shares stories about his new friends for the next few minutes. It warms my heart to see him happy and content in his new environment. It seems that moving to this familiar place has been just what he needed.

He winces as he tries to sit up, "Ouch, that guy got me good," he grumbles. "But I suppose it's to be expected. Our family has been involved in law enforcement for generations. I'm glad you've taken a liking to the field as well, Crimson. It seems that it runs in our genes."

I smile at my father as he signals towards one of the drinks nearby. With a sigh, I hand him the drink as he munches on his grapes. "Feed me?" he requests, and I can't help but think that he shouldn't have sent those men away earlier. "Dad, your hands are perfectly fine. You can drink it yourself," I protest. But he smugly shows me his hands, which are covered in grape juice, and I reluctantly hold up the bottle for him to happily chug down the contents.

The door opens abruptly, and a woman with frizzy brown hair rushes in, gasping as she takes in the scene before her. My father jumps in his bed as if he's been struck by lightning. "Mr. Donovan! I specifically told you not to drink anything until we've taken your tests!" she scolds him, her green eyes shining behind her glasses.

"D-Dr. Flores!" My father exclaims, startled by the sudden entrance. He scrambles to find something to clean his hands with, accidentally grabbing onto my top and leaving a grape juice stain. He looks up at the doctor with a sheepish grin, trying to appear innocent and obedient like a student. Meanwhile, I stand there in shock, gaping at the dirty spot on my shirt. Dr. Flores seems to have not noticed my mishap, as she looks down at my father in disappointment.

"I apologize, Dr. Flores. I wasn't aware of that fact. The nurse may have instructed Inspector Charlton to give me that advice. I'm sorry," my father expresses his regret sincerely. "Well, Mr. Donovan, we will have to wait for another hour then," Dr. Flores responds before noticing me and giving me a friendly smile. "Hello, are you planning to stay with him until after his tests are completed?"

"I'll take care of my father, Doctor. You can trust me," I assure her and shoot a warning glance at my dad, whose eyes blink in guilt as he notices the dirty spot on my top.

"Ah, you're his daughter. You can take care of him until his tests are done," she says, smiling kindly at me before turning to my father. "Please make sure not to put any pressure on your leg and rest for now, Mr. Donovan. Your tests will be taken soon."

"Will you be the one to examine me, Dr. Flores?" my father asks and I look at him blankly. "Why yes, would you like someone else to do it?" Dr. Flores responds. My father quickly backtracks, "No, no, I would be happy to be tested by you." My eyebrows shoot upwards and Dr. Flores looks momentarily surprised but then laughs it off and says goodbye as she exits the room.

"Dad, what was that?" I whisper, incredulous.

"It was nothing of course. Good night, honey," he says and covers himself with a blanket.

"Good n-! I'll show you 'good night'!" and I pull off his covers and fix him with a stern glare and demand, "Dad? Tell me what that was all about. Were you flirting with her?"

My father chuckles warmly and settles back into the bed. "You remind me so much of your mother when you fuss over me like this. I don't need another woman in my life when I have you, my dear daughter, always by my side."

Despite his lighthearted tone, I sense a hint of pain beneath the surface. It never occurred to me that my father might consider moving on with someone else, and now I find myself struggling to process the complex emotions swirling within me. Do I want him to be happy again, or do I think it's too soon? I'm not sure what to feel.

"Dad, tell me. Have you taken a liking for her?"

"I just met her today, Crimson! How outrageous would that be! That is too soon to decide, don't you think?" he dismisses the idea, looking at me with sincere disbelief.

"Then, will you tell me?"

"Tell you...?"

"If you like her or I don't know, decide to make a move? On anyone for that matter?"

"Crimson..." my dad looks at me with furrowed brows, as if he is struggling to answer. "I-I will."

I nod thoughtfully and look down at my jean-clad shoes.

"Crimson," I hear my father's low voice.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think that I'm being selfish?"

I rise and look at my father with a disturbed expression. "No, Dad. What do you mean?"

"Do you think that I am deceiving your mother, if- if I were to move on from her?"

My father looked so small and broken in that hospital bed, at that moment, like a helpless newborn baby- so new to the world, so new to the sudden light that deemed upon him in contrast to the former dark confined room he was in.

It dawns on me that I was the one being selfish. I realize that my father was struggling with his own emotions just as much as I was. I could see the pain etched on his face and the uncertainty in his eyes. It wasn't just about moving on from my mother, but also about finding his place in the world without her by his side.

As I look at him, I see a human being, not just my father. It was a stark reminder that we all have our own struggles and that we need to be kinder and more empathetic towards one another. I vow then and there to support my father through this difficult time and to be there for him, no matter what decisions he made.

Before I know it, my thoughts drift to Drexel. Sigh. You can't control who you develop feelings for.

"Dad," I start gently, "It's okay to move on. It's why we moved back here in the first place, isn't it? And it's already showing signs of being successful. Find a reason to be happy, Dad, and I'll support you every step of the way."

I loved my mother, but I'm sure she would be relieved if my Dad found happiness to fill at least one of the voids in his heart.

My father searches my face to find any hints of misconception and he seems to have found his answer, smiling gratefully at me as he hugs me once more. "Thank you, my sweet daughter," he says, teasingly adding, "You said to find a reason to be happy. Have you found a reason, or rather, a boy who could be that reason?"

"Shh, shush!" I interrupt him, eager to avoid the topic.

"Did you just shush me, you impolite child?"

"I'm sorry, but I have the upper hand here! You could be stuck in this hospital bed for weeks, for all I care!"

"Hmph, no need to be defensive. Maybe it's because you've found someone to crush on? No boy can lay their hands on-" My father's enthusiasm almost causes him to fall off the bed, but I manage to keep him in place.

"Enough of your delusional ideas, Dad! Please rest now!" I plead, hoping to steer the conversation away from this embarrassing topic.

"Alright, fine...are you sure you won't be bored?"

"Of course, I will be bored, there's nothing to do here. Maybe I'll just walk around the hospital and find something to eat."

After tucking my father into the bed, I watch as he dozes off with a worn-out smile. Once I'm certain that he's sleeping soundly, I quietly leave the room and make my way to the elevator without any delay. As I press the button to descend to the cafeteria on the first floor, I take a deep breath to calm myself.

Upon exiting the elevator, I notice that the cafeteria is notably vacant, and I'm relieved to see that it doesn't resemble a typical hospital environment. I order an iced coffee and a cheese sandwich with fries, finding a secluded spot in the cafeteria. I sit down to enjoy my meal, taking in the view of the gardens outside where patients and nurses are walking around.

As there is some more time to spare, I take the stairs instead of the elevator. It's been a long time since I last exercised. As I ascend, my cup of coffee cools my hands, and I pause to catch my breath when I reach the fourth floor. I chide myself for being out of shape, imagining my father's disapproval and his insistence that I jog around the lake to get back in shape. As I begin the final climb up the stairs, I suddenly stop in my tracks.

I step back and my eyes fixate on the long, white hallway of the current floor I was at, and my heart begins to thud against my chest. Sitting hunched over on one of the metal chairs, his shoulders slumped, head buried in his hands, radiating the sadness of an estranged soul was a figure exuding an air of despair. Without thinking, my body changes course, and I head towards the forlorn figure.

I gently touch my ice-cold cup of coffee to his neck, and he jumps up with a startled hiss.

"Hello, Drexel."

Tell me your thoughts about the Dad and Crimson here.

Hmm, Drexel? Why is he here I wonder? 

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