LUCILLE’S POV

The first thing I remember was hearing a faint whisper that was calling my name. I couldn’t recognize from whom it was coming from, but I strangely felt drawn to it. I remember sensing how frustrated the whispers were by the heavy breaths that accompanied the messages that were trying to get to me.

“Lucille… Lucille… Lord, please let her wake up already.”

His words started to become clearer the longer I tried to capture what he was saying. For some reason, I could only listen but not see what was happening. I realized that his words were repeatedly within those lines which were his desperate prayer to a deity.

CLICK.

That was when I realized that the reason why I was only hearing him was that I may have been in a certain condition where I had been unconscious for a time now. Slowly but surely, I tried to sense if I could feel and move any part of my body. I could suddenly feel my eyes twitching open as I attempted to look beyond the darkness I had silently stayed and listened to for a while now.

Upon opening my eyes, I saw the man who was whispering. By this time, his whispers had turned to whimpers. He kept saying the same things while his hands were held together. His eyes were closed, and his head was bowed down. I thought he had not noticed me right away as he was so caught up in his own petitions. He was the only one with me in the room which should feel weird, but I rather felt undisturbed about it.

I looked around the room and saw that I was lying in a hospital bed. I was so confused because I couldn’t remember any event that could have led me to be brought here. The hospital bed where I was staying seemed to be a private and exclusive room since the ambiance of the room was not the typical all-white walls with the mixed smell of alcohol and the breeze of an air-conditioned room. This room felt more like a luxurious hotel room with dim yellow lights at the side so that their shade didn’t hit directly at the center of the room. The place smelled like it was sanitized well with slight touches of natural air fresheners which I was used to because it was how our place back home smelled like.

Unable to coordinate the rest of my body to move yet as I tried to command them, the only thing I was successful in accomplishing was letting out a sound that was loud enough for me to catch the attention of the man. He was initially startled to be interrupted but he was fast to recover from it. He moved closer to me and immediately held my hand. I couldn’t understand if the expression on his face was one of relief, bitterness, sadness, or maybe all of the above. The way he held my hand felt a little hurtful as he squeezed it a little too tightly. I was surprised to realize that I could feel his touch, but I couldn’t pull my hand away from him as his grip had more energy and firmness.

“Lucille! Oh my God! Oh my God! You are finally awake!”

I was sure there were tears rolling at the corners of his eyes, but he kept talking as if he was not aware how much of them were falling from his face towards his clothes and the bedside.

“Lucille! Love, can you hear me?”

His facial expression started to look more worried as he stared at me who had nothing to say. I think I gave off a very confused look because, in all honesty, I was glad to be celebrated for finally becoming conscious, but it was not as thrilling if the man who was doing it was a stranger.

“I… I can… I can hear you.” I replied with some struggle at first as I could feel my throat dry from possibly not having drunk any water for a while now. How long had I been unconscious? Why did it feel like I was moving my body for the first time in such a long time? Who was this man with me and why did it feel like he was familiar, but my mind couldn’t just register who he may be to me?

“Lucille, listen. I had been waiting for you to wake up so that we could talk about what happened. You know I love you and that I would try my best to be open with what you have to say. I just need to really clear something up first and foremost: What were you doing in that car with Kent?”

He anxiously blurted out all these statements and questions as if he had been holding out to tell them to me. I wanted so badly to have a proper and fair response to him because I felt like I had him waiting for me for some time. However, no matter how much I tried to recall, there was really nothing. I didn’t have any words to tell him. I paused for a long time before replying because I was pushing myself to say anything that could satisfy his question.

“I… I… I don’t… know.” I said with the loudest voice I can pull off which still sounded cracked and airy.

He started to get flustered even more as I was slowly able to pull my hand away from him. I knew he could feel my resistance from him as I felt him invading so much of my personal space that I felt dizzy and suffocated. Maybe I got so overwhelmed that was why I felt my eyelids get heavy.

“I… I’m sorry… but who are you?”

These were the last words I remembered saying before I finally dozed off to sleep. My eyes were already shut when I let out that question, so I was not able to see anymore what the man’s reaction was and if he had anything more to say. I wasn’t even able to hear his reply.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the face of my father leaning close to me while he was patiently standing at my bedside. It seemed like he was waiting for me to wake up, but it also seemed like he was walking back and forth when he suddenly recognized me waking up and got close to me at the first hint of it.

“Lucille, my dear, how are you?”

My dad said those words as if he knew I had not been feeling well from earlier. He immediately raised a glass filled with water to my mouth. I was comforted by his presence so much because I knew that wherever my dad was, I’d always be protected and kept safe.

“Dad… I’m okay. What… what happened? I mean, … why am I here?” I managed to finally say more words this time as I felt more energized this time around. While waiting for his reply, I quickly glanced behind and around him to search the room for the man that was with me earlier.

“My dear, we have been waiting for you to wake up for 3 months now. I for one did not know whether you would still wake up at all.”

I was dumbfounded to realize how long it had been and all the things I may have missed out on because I was here for such a time.

“I was already losing hope that I’ll be able to talk to you again as I do now because the doctors couldn’t guarantee your complete recovery. They said your head hit so bad that whatever’s done for you medically was the most care they could provide. They even said it would take a miracle for you to wake up.”

At this point, I felt in my heart some guilt for having caused my dad so much pain. I knew he was not the most patient man so it might have taken so much of his resolve to uncertainty linger for a hope that could not be realized.

“You were in a car crash with Kent and Marie. Marie was miraculously cushioned by the pillows that were at the backseat. But Kent… he did not make it.”

I was trying to absorb all this new information and reintegrate them into any event I may remember before I got here but I didn’t have anything, so it didn’t feel like there was any truth to what was being said to me, especially the part about Kent. I mean, the last thing I remember was that we were having dinner together at his house with his one-year old daughter Marie. Kent in most days was not easy to get along with due to his alcoholism and gambling, but I swear there were rare days like those when we could sit together for a meal and just laugh about Marie’s weird sounds and actions of the day which were not typical for a baby her age. I personally adored Marie so much that taking care of her didn’t feel like only being a nanny to her but more like a mom to her. She might have grown on me because I felt attached to her right away upon knowing her mom died after giving birth to her. I felt for her because I experienced the same thing, of not ever knowing how it must have felt like having a mom.

“I don’t understand. I mean, how can that be?! Kent and I had just been together over a meal that felt like only a week ago!”

“Lucille… Are you sure you do not remember any of this? You see, your husband had already taken care of everything so that we could send him off as peacefully and respectively as possible. I understand if by this time you still couldn’t remember any of this. Please go easy on this.”

“But wait, dad. Did you just say I have a… husband?”

“Yes, your husband. Albert, remember? The man who was here earlier. He was the one who told me that you already woke up but he seemed to be rather frustrated about it. What happened with you two?”

I stared at him strangely as I really couldn’t grasp what he was saying.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked with a concerned look.

“Dad, are you sure? How can I have a husband? I can’t… I can’t remember having one.”

I couldn’t connect anything he was saying, especially the part about me having a husband. I mean, how in the world couldn’t I remember a piece of information as important as that?!