XL | Something Missing

❦

I remain
wrapped in white
for a long time

before the siren
stops

and Moonlight Sonata
plays instead.

The white warmth

lingers
even as I feel

cool air

brush my face
where my own breath
has collected.

I blink the sudden brightness,

disoriented.

 

 

 

❦

I’m in the main hall.

Sitting down.

In my armchair.

As always.

The other patients
are in their armchairs too—

it’s medicine time.

There’s no light
outside the window—

evening medicine time then.

I don’t remember
time ever passing

this fast.

Why is there
something strange

about this sudden

calm?

Instinctively,
I look for Tammie in her armchair.

She’s knocking her heels gently
against the footrest,

smiling apologetically

in my direction.

My gaze
lands on Krishna near her

and she’s also

looking at me
with a knowing smirk,
as if she’s saying

You won’t tell anyone.

The truth is
I won’t.

How can I?

When Tammie
already told me

to keep quiet about it.

 

Since when
do you listen

to what other people tell you to do?

 

I don’t,
but Tammie isn’t

other people.

 

Do you remember already?

 

Good question.

Uneasiness
blooms like a flower
in my chest.

 

 

 

❦

The male nurse
with the baton
watching by the door

turns to open it

though
no one’s been called yet.

A girl enters the room,
flanked by two nurses.

A sense of deja vu.

Her hair is
black,

longer than mine,
to her waist;

it covers her face as she walks.

She doesn’t
look up

even though the linoleum floor

has given way
to carpet.

The pretty nurse
behind her on her phone,

waits for her to move
on her own.

She doesn’t.

Not even after Krishna’s name is called
and the angmoh nurse leads her to the door.

The plain nurse
guides the girl

          out of the way

but

Krishna
stops,

leans over
to whisper

into her ear.

The nurse puts one hand on her back
and leads her away.

The door clicks shut
behind her as though

erasing her existence.

Whatever she said to the new patient
remained though.

It must have
shocked her

though

because now she’s
          not moving
even though the plain nurse

does her best

to coax her
into the last armchair.

She stands

like a pillar of salt
wearing a black veil,

fingers

curling into fists.

 

I’m led to the medicine room,
given my pills,

still thinking of her.

No,
not the new patient.

I’m thinking of

Krishna.

What she could have said

to a new patient
to scare her so bad.

No,
not Krishna.

There’s nothing

odd

about her.

The pills in front of me
seem to multiply

as I think.

I swallow them
quickly

with the paper cup of water

so I can return
to my armchair.

 

She’s still
standing there—

the new patient.

I didn’t have to hurry.
(She hasn’t disappeared.)

Head down,
facing the empty armchair.

Krishna’s

smiling

at me again.

I turn,
in case she’s watching

someone behind me,

but it’s just
the boy with the plastic ear
who’s taken my seat

nearest the kitchen.

He’s pretending to sleeping.

Her mouth is forming words
when I turn back

to face her.

She repeats the series of shapes
with her mouth

over and over

as I glare at her,
uncomprehending.

Until,
I realise

it appears

similiar

to what Tammie
once asked me.

Did you count?

 

Hey Fifi,
did you count?

 

The sense of disconcertment

from the start
of medicine time

returns.

The new patient.

Why
is there

a new patient?

I count.

Urei.
Raymond.
Li Wen.
Tammie.
Krishna.
Gavin.
The boy with the plastic ear.
Me.

 

Why
is there

a ninth patient?

Krishna
continues mouthing at me:

 

Hey Fifi,
did you count?

 

 

 

❦