Sasha Shadows

30 minutes.

This is the remaining time for me to answer my readers' and followers' questions, especially clecartwrt.

I owe him an answer and I seriously should explain this in a mature way. And then, an idea pops up like a weasel, allowing me to keep my fingers working.

shadowriter_: Because the way you talk is a little similar to a boy I love since high school.

No reads, no reply.

He must be busy then. Yes, when I'm nervous and scared, I always build such excuse to calm myself down. Sometimes, these excuses might even appear as the truth, showing me that not everything is as worse as how I think.

Heaving out a sigh, I click onto the other unanswered messages and reply all of them as quick as possible. As time flies faster than an eagle, I only have 5 minutes left now.

Almost all of the conversations are closed, except that very person who keeps me hanging online right now. I look at the clock and two minutes have passed, so I decide to make a quick announcement saying that I would vanish again for months because of huge family issues.

Before I am about to leave the platform, my sharp eyes finally notes the lonely number 2 pasted on the pm icon. Without hesitation, I click into it and much to my satisfaction, it is the person I'm waiting for.

clecartwrt: wow, that boy is very lucky to be loved by you, senpai XD

clecartwrt: I wish I'm that person though /////

Of course that person is you, my dearest reader and follower. My dearest boy. I smile. But the ended session doesn't allow me to type anymore.

Soon, I can't feel my hands touching the laptop as they penetrate through the keyboard. "Too bad, time is up." I know... "At least you'd tried your best, Shadows." Isabelle soothes, sending light pats on my back.

I can do nothing but to nod with a sad smile. However, my vision begins to turn blurry. The only thing I can see now is mixture of colours, the type which a person with long-sightedness can see after taking off his or her specs. There I blink once, and then twice, but my eyes are getting watery and painful.

Am I crying?

But my head is aching. I cannot hear, nor can I reply any questions now. With my eyes shut tightly, I press my index fingers on my temples and couldn't stop rubbing them, hoping to fix the pain. However, it turns out to be worse.

The sudden invasion of the pain makes me scream in agony. I can't stop asking what is going on with me when the girl in front looks at me with her shocked expression. Her face flushes when tears of fear rushes out of her eyes. She seems not to have encounter such situation before.

My consciousness is fading while my head is heavy as lead and so does my eyelids. Dizziness make me see stars circling above my head. I'd never felt so bad in my entire life - is my last thought before the surrounding changes.

The sunlight no longer presses through the window. And neither does the noises from the neighbourhood sneaking through the wall gaps. Everything turns dark and utterly silent. But-

"Sasha," Isabelle's whisper is clear as water to my ears, telling me that my consciousness has regained. "The pills."

"What?"

"Eat it." Obeying the little girl's advice, my hand snakes into the pocket of my hoodie jacket, which I managed to touch and eventually scoops up the cylindrical container.

The label of the pills become visible. "Memory capsules?" I whisper to myself.

"Faster, before the keepers' arrival," urges Isabelle, stopping me from hesitation. With my hands shaking uncontrollably, I quickly take out a capsule and swallow it down.

Soon, black smoke begins to creep through the door gaps when the sound of the chain swiping the ground can be heard. The greyish gas accumulates in front of us until two tall human figures are revealed.

"Sasha Danielle Shadows," one of them pronounces with sonorous voice. "It is time for you to hand over your memory as the price for your 5 granted wishes."

***

Hansel Duncan

My chest hurts when I can only feel how upset my buddy is without knowing what to do right now. Here in the cab, the driver is speeding with all four of us seated in the vehicle. Clerence is losing his rational thinking and patience because of one call from his employer.

Nope, he is not being fired but yes, it is because of the girl. All I roughly know is the manager received a call about this Sasha girl from the hospital coincidentally during Cartwright's working hour. The call sounded urgent and they were required to show up as soon as possible.

As the she-boss had issues to run, she assigned my buddy instead to accomplish the mission on behalf of her. So here we are, being dragged to the bookstore in less than 15 minutes by Doc and eventually gotten into the same cab with the protagonist himself.

The extreme solemnness begins to squeeze the air out of my lungs and covers the whole vehicle in dead awkward silence. However, this doesn't stop my heart stamping rapidly on my chest. The cab driver soon makes a sharp turn, urging us to hold on tight. Right there, under the shield of golden sunlight, the hospital shines like a ginormous diamond.

Due to how emergence this case is, Clerence manages to stuff a handful of 5 bucks into that driver's hand and hops down the vehicle without even closing the door. "I'm sorry," I apologise for him while the driver hands me the change.

Greg, with his extremely empathetic look, closes the door which Clerence has left ajar, whilst Doc tails behind the sprinting boy into the hospital. As soon as everything here in the cab is settled, Greg and I then stride towards the main entrance and into the reception counter. The same counter girl as last time sits behind the divider.

"Your friends have gone to the emergency room, third floor," she tells, knowing what we are going to ask next.

"Thank you, lady," thanks Greg while he shakes the girl's hand. "Let's go, Hans." Nodding silently, I follow until both of us reach the elevator.

***

Dominic Williams

The red emergency light has not extinguished yet, as if it's telling us this is not a joke or a prank. This is indeed real. With his hands covering his face, Clerence sobs silently beside me as we are seated on the cold plastic chairs to wait for the news. I wish those are good news.

His sniffle pulls me back to this dimension and eventually not stopping me from patting his back to give him comfort. "She'll be alright." I whisper to him, but he shakes his head and denies my reassuring statement.

"No..." Clerence's voice is so broken that I can almost foresee his vulnerable side. "Doctors never lie."

The doctor told us about Sasha suffering from cerebral hypoxia starting from when Clerence's boss received the call. The situation is not tolerating and even if the surgeons manage to save her, she might end up losing all her past memories as this is where her brain is damaged. "Doc." Hans' call turns my head to the left.

I smile at them as they nod. After taking the seats beside me, they all look over towards Clerence who have yet to take his hands away from his face. "I prayed for her every night," mutters Clerence through his hands. "I wished she'll be good..." His voice becomes clear after he removes his hands, revealing his tear-smeared face and bloodshot eyes. "If she dies, how am I supposed to live? My life will be shielded with regret and misery, guys... I am the one who caused this... I am the murderer..."

"Stop it," Greg interrupts sternly as he stares straight into Clerence's eyes. "You tried your best, bud. She will be okay." His voice desperate. "God will hear you." It is surprising for me to find Greg's voice shakes, but yes, it does.

After who knows how long we've been waiting outside the emergency room, the red light finally turns green. The surgeons, all suited in their required attires – medical masks and white caps, large, white uniforms each laced with a plastic apron, whatever terms you call, come out from the room with their gloves all taken away. "How is she?" asks Clerence worriedly.

To be honest, that is fast of him to reach the doctor in such a short time.

The leader among doctors take a look at Clerence, and then at the three of us who follow from behind. As his black eyes fixates on Clerence again, he clears his throat and answers, "We managed to remove the clotted blood from her injured brain area, but due to the severity, she might suffer from selective amnesia once she wakes up. She-"

"Wait doctor," interrupts Clerence with hope hidden in his voice. "Did you say that the girl will wake up?"

"Maybe, but we are more than 50% sure about this," says the doctor with his firm tone, meaning that he has discussed this issue with his colleagues about Sasha's condition.

"I am glad to hear that."

And that is how we see Clerence's genuine smile again.

ᴴᴱᵞᴼ, ᴵᴹᴾᴼˢˢᴵᴮᴸᵞˢ. ᴵ'ᴹ ᶠᴵᴺᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᴮᴬᶜᴷ. ᴵᵀ'ˢ ᴮᴱᴱᴺ ᴱˣᵀᴿᴱᴹᴱᴸᵞ ᴮᵁˢᵞ ᶠᴼᴿ ᴹᴱ ᵀᴼ ᴹᴬᴺᴬᴳᴱ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴾᴬˢᵀ ᶠᴱᵂ ᵂᴱᴱᴷˢ. ᴬᴺᴰ ᴬˢ ᴹᵞ ᴺᴱˣᵀ ᵀᴱᴿᴹ ᴵˢ ᴳᴼᴵᴺᴳ ᵀᴼ ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴱᴺᶜᴱ ˢᴼᴼᴺ, ᴵ ᴴᴱᴿᴱᴮᵞ ᴿᴱᴳᴬᴵᴺ ᴹᵞ ᵂᴿᴵᵀᴵᴺᴳ ᴵᴺˢᴾᴵᴿᴬᵀᴵᴼᴺ ᴬᴺᴰ ᶜᴼᴺᵀᴵᴺᵁᴱ ᵂᴵᵀᴴ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᶜᴴᴬᴾᵀᴱᴿ ᶠᴼᴿ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴬᴸᴸ.

ᵀᴴᴬᴺᴷ ᵞᴼᵁ ᶠᴼᴿ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴾᴬᵀᴵᴱᴺᶜᴱ ᴬᴺᴰ ᴴᴼᴾᴱ ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴸᴸ ᴱᴺᴶᴼᵞ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᶜᴴᴬᴾᵀᴱᴿ. ᴰᴼ ᵀᴱᴸᴸ ᴹᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᴰᴼ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᴴᴵᴺᴷ ᴬᴮᴼᵁᵀ ᴵᵀ ᴮᵞ ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴱᴺᵀᴵᴺᴳ.

ᴮᴱ ᴴᴬᴾᴾᵞ ᴱᵛᴱᴿᵞ ᴰᴬᵞ ❤