"Hi miss Johnson" said ms. Mccarel.

" oh, hi there you are" she said softly.

Ms. Mccarel stood to give a handshake to the nurse

" Good morning " said ms. Mccarel

" Good morning too," the nurse replied. "So what I can do for you"

"My student" she said as her eyes came upon me, with concern,

"Has a contusion right over her shoulder and I think you're the best person I knew who knows to do and needed.

" of course, ms. Mccarel" the nurse said in a tone of someone reassuring, and with her nursery impression; from her attire, to her friendly face, down to the hands firmly tucked into two slanted pockets in her shirt. You would believe that you're in a good hand.

" I have an ongoing class right now, I should have left now. Pls take care well of ms. Ellena"

"Yes I will" the nurse said.

And with that they exchanged goodbyes. The nurse went behind her, looking for something in one of her drawers, while ms. Mccarel, before leaving telling me that I'm going to be okay and it'll only take a few minutes long. And then she said goodbye on me and then left.

I always had a bad feeling for hospitals. The large scissors, needles, and other deadly tools. And I'd remember my mother's story on her surgery, and how those large needles & stuff was put inside of her. I felt like I couldn't take them.I just can't imagine they trusting deep inside of my skin. And for a few odd moments, I'd imagine that the nurse would turned around holding a large needle and casting a demonic smile but as she spun around, came toward only with a cold ice pack, tablet, and a huge band aid in a small container. I knew my initial thoughts are naive & impossible, it wasn't some serious injury, though,

"Would you mind taking off your cloak first, please"

She said calmly as she came sitting beside me.

I untie the red lace on my neck and then set it aside, revealing a small violet mass of lump on my lower shoulder, ms. Johnson placed above the container on the two connected arm handles.

"Are your parents know about these?" She asked.

"Where did you get this?"

"At home" I quietly said.

She gave me a quick look of surprise, and I quickly avoided it by staring down on my lap

" why? aren't your parents at home? And given that look, I'd thought she instead of would actually ask if I got these because -I went home late, one morning, from visiting my grandma, and Dad in his rage, the fact that he's drunk, and who could have thought that he could beat her own child by accidentally pushing her downstairs, which caused this terribly bruise, which is true by the way. But I knew she was referring to someone who couldn't have taken care of this injury early ago.

"Uhmm… they're busy" I said.

Then she gently lift up my injured arm, outstretched upward.

"Never forget this, When you come home, you should every so often raise your arm like this, it might help the blood around the injured area to easily flow out, it's because the vessels here are kind of like crushed, that's why the flowing is hardly let, okay?"

Keeping my arms caught in the air, ms Johnson get the cold pack of ice and pressed it down gently to the bruise, making me twitch a little in the first few laps.

"Does it hurt" she said as she continuously damping the wet cold cloth on my arm.

"Yeah a little bit" I answered.

After a few minutes in that position, she gently pulled back my raised hand down to my lap, then she stood forward a small water dispenser and get a cup of water. My eyes quickly goes to the little tablet on the container, enclosed in a silver foil, written in small letters on the foil, something I couldn't understand.

Just after a few seconds she just went back again holding the cup of water in chest-level, gingerly.

" take that tablet & drink this" she commanded.

I tore off the upperpart of the foil and shove up the deep seated tablet out and take it inside my mouth, and then drink on the water cup.

"Do not forget the cold ice pack, too." She lifted the pack up as she instructed, and then the empty sachet.

She was then seemed to about onto doing something but delayed in few seconds only after some thoughtful thinking, trying to remember something, then as she stuck up her right arm index finger. She went after to her desk.

My eyes drifted along on the few things that I did not recognize early before. Hang pinned the wall was, probably, I thought her medical certificate recognition, her name was capitalized, it read as: RoseMary Johansson L.. Then my eyes went to ms. Johanson, whom busy writing something on the paper, then to the single picture frame just on her right side.

A closed- up of a young boy, face- a little tilt upward, eyes shut close, wide smiling, but then one thing caught my attention ; was his left white, eyes patch. Few thoughts began to form in my mind. Had sparked a few questions too. Then the nurse caught a quick glimpse on me as I was curiously staring at the picture.

"Uhmmm is that your…"

"My son," she said.

" My adopted son" she added.

I was caught in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah he's only 8, when we adopted him. And now his 9" she said smilingly, get to her feet and then strode toward to my side.

"We adopted him because I & my husband, we'd actually had our own first child, but he passed away" she said resisting her building up tears in sparkly eyes, and while she still keeping up her positive smile.

" oh, I'm sorry to hear that" I said lowering my voice

She sigh. " his name is Charles" pointing her eye to the picture,

" the same name of our first son" she said reminiscing, it was palpable

In her eyes and that sweet smile, lost briefly in good times.

"I felt like, when Charles, our first child had gone. The heaven Gave us another. And I think that's no coincidence, when we found him" she said

And the next thing I knew, I was in awe, when she began telling more about the white patch: " our first, Charles just died before we met Charles—our adopted. We'd decided that if there's anyone in need, we will be gladly to help in terms of giving some of his organs. Charles himself told about that, and let us promised. that's the time when an orphanage find about us, they tell US about this young kid whose one less older than Charles. When they introduce him to us, he was one eye blind. I was shocked" she began getting emotionally again, " so that's why, we thought, Charles never left us at all, he was always along with us" she finally broke out, a lone tear trail down her cheeks. She swiped it it with her handkerchief.

"Wow, that's beautiful" I said, not taking away the glow and smile on my face the whole time she was telling me all of this. I thought for a brief second that miracles might be true, yes, and might just happen to only certain persons. And I thought I wasn't included in that. When mom struggling in life in that hospital, we were not lucky enough to have her back at all. And I don't want to lose any of my family anymore.

And then I thought back again to the carcass of Mr & ms. Celestio's son. And I'd just realized right now that we all have similarities, I, this woman in front of me, & the grieving couple who'd just lost son earlier this morning, we all had the pain in our hearts, grieving for our loses, and it'll take a long time to close the wounds.

After a few more talk, I thanked her and she apologized for bringing up her story which i'd think isn't wrong at all, it's actually great, I tell her. And then we would exchanged goodbyes. But before we finally leave each other, she actually offered me to call my dad, to take me home, which I insisted that I could go home by myself, in which she rejected because of my bruise arm, it isn't a good idea, too, for a girl to walk alone in an almost empty roads. I was surprised that the news about the murdered young man plague the whole town just as easily as that. So I had no choice but to give our home landline. Mrs. Johanson called dad and had asked to pick me up, and later, I would hear a jeepney outside, which my dad drives.

***********

We drove past the pathway, past the towering houses and their backyards. I handed him the nurse's prescription. He took a quick look on the paper while driving.

"Did you tell her, that…."

"No, I didn't" I said.

He lowered the volume in the radio

" you know that, I didn't mean to do that," he said.

" that's alright"

"I-im so sorry, I'm just drunken …"

"Why don't you stop your drinking?" I said

"You know… I can't do that," said Dad.

" why? Is it so hard for you? "

" what iam saying is, ever since mom, I mean Melinda, left you- you never stop from drinking! " I said with conviction. And he was just shaking his head as if hearing this to his daughter, something he won't expect. His driving speed become speeder.

" I mean Dad, please just stop it…" my voice in the furious noise barreling jeepney down the street, was belittling.

"Dad, " I pursued, and then from not a far away lane the path abruptly turn at left, which at dad's track speed, would be difficult to maneuver without completely destroying the side fence. My heart pound faster as we come nearer,

"Dad!" I suppose of telling him to watch out his front and slow down, but he somehow manage to pass it swiftly, But not, when a young boy sprouted, crossing the path, from our front.

"Dad! Watch out!" I scream in my terror.

Panic broke out in him, too, as soon as he saw the kid. The next thing I knew was he quickly thrust deep her foot on the brake, the car swept half around, crashing the side fence, skidded to a stop, and if it hadn't been that one rear wheels stuck to the remaining jagged of the fence, that somehow, narrowly avoided, we would have crashed the nearest tree. After the nearly life-taking incident, I found myself- gripping tight at the solid iron side of the jeepney's open window, lips trembling— gaping for breath, my hair tangled at my face in every direction, I was beyond speaking, then I turn to my right as I lose my grip to see dad in a crouch position- head pressing down the center of the wheel, I'd expected some blood to run down from his head but they weren't, I rejoiced. Seconds later he leaned back, dizzy and out of control.

" dad are you okay?" I said, as panic broke out again, on me.

Soon, he started to gain back his consciousness. The moment he finally woke up, he leaned straight and an agitating emotion starting to stir on his look, He, then, took the bag quickly, at the back of the jeepney, and pulled out one of his guns, angrily kicked swung-open the side door and shouted: " what the hell! Get out there!"

On my recollection of thoughts, I forced myself to get out of the car, even though I'm still dizzy and in my concerned.

" Dad, what are you doing?" I said as I came after him, but it seems like he didn't hear me. He was in a constant searching the whole place, pointing his gun and peeking in every possible corner.

" dad stop it!" I yell, "don't you think we might rundown on him, How could you…"

I went to study the road, but there's no one, no blood, and no body, it was empty, clean as it was, but still my eyes keep looking- beyond fences and behind some trees, but all I could see was grass.

Then, Dad, when I saw him, trying to calm himself by taking a deep breath, then releasing it, pointing down his gun now. "Yep, you're right, he might be"

I'm starting to suspect that, maybe when we nearly crashed him down —he thought that he's some sort of lost- wild animal. But it was clearly, when I thought him back again, we'd nearly the same height, A boy in a white long sleeve shirt and— and; I have thought this many times and I was sure, he's wearing some sort of a head mask like what those mascot wore. Is it a lion or a wolf?, something I couldn't remember anymore.

Dad limply walked through the broken fence out to the road, confused.

"Where is…"

"He's gone?"

Both our eyes wonder again around the area, double-checking the nearest trees, behind it, and on some grass, but still there's no injured body of a young boy.

Is that a ghost? I thought again, but in a day?

Then Dad, being upset and worried walked back on where I'd stood,

still baffling in everything.

"Are you okay?" He said as he scanned my wholeness– my arm to my neck and face, and then at my foot, " I'm so sorry, let's go home"

He pushed hard against the front of the half-sunken car from the low grass land to the adjacent land, second later the jeep was back on the pavement road, he took minutes of checking for any damage on the car, but there hasn't, except for the scrape at the lower front that came from crashing the fence, we then left the road, riding again the jeepney. Still anxious & worried, leaving all splintered jarred woods and broken gap it'd left on the fence.