When I slowly opened my eyes, the blinding light forced me to blink again and again until my vision adjusted. The ceiling above me was white — too bright — like it was swallowing me whole. I tried to move, but my body refused to listen. My fingers felt heavy, my legs nonexistent. Even my tongue felt like stone in my mouth. Panic pricked at my chest.
Beside me, my mom was asleep, her head resting near my arm. Strands of her hair were scattered over her face, and her breathing was soft, uneven — like she'd been crying. I wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, but I couldn't even lift a finger.
The door creaked open, breaking the silence. The doctor walked in, his white coat flaring slightly as he turned toward me.
"Oh! You're awake!" he shouted, too loud for the small room, his voice cutting through the quiet like shattered glass.
I flinched inside, though my body couldn't show it. His voice felt out of place — too loudl, too careless — and it crawled under my skin.
Mom's head snapped up at his words. Her eyes widened, glassy with worry, as she leaned closer to me.
"Hey, Leil? Are you okay? How do you feel?" she whispered, her voice trembling. Those eyes — full of love and fear — made something ache deep in my chest.
"Calm down, Ma," I muttered, forcing the words out slowly, my voice rough like sandpaper. "I just… can't move my body."
Then I turned my eyes toward the doctor, and even without motion, he must've felt the weight of my glare. His face turn down — guilt flickering across his expression like a shadow.
"Why she can't move?" My mom asked
The doctor froze for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words. The sound of the heart monitor filled the silence — steady, too steady — mocking the chaos building inside me.
He cleared his throat, eyes darting between me and my mom. "It's… it's normal after what happened," he said, voice uncertain. "Her body went through a lot of stress. The paralysis might be temporary."
Temporary. The word echoed in my head like a cruel whisper.
Mom's hand found mine, trembling as she tried to hold it even though I couldn't hold back. "What do you mean temporary? How long will it take?" Her voice cracked midway, sharp and desperate.
The doctor hesitated. "It depends. Could be hours… or days. Maybe longer."
My mom looked like she was trying not to fall apart. Her fingers brushed my hair away from my face, her touch gentle but shaky. "You'll be okay, anak," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You always are."
I wanted to believe her — wanted to nod, to smile, something. But my body betrayed me again. I could only stare at her, the weight of my own stillness pressing down like a heavy blanket.
The light above flickered, casting fleeting shadows across the room. The doctor muttered something about tests and left quietly, his footsteps fading down the hall.
Only then did I realize how loud the silence had become — the soft hum of machines, my mother's uneven breathing, and the faint ringing in my ears.
I stared at the ceiling again, at that endless white space, and for the first time… it felt like a cage.
"I'll be back in a moment, hon," my mom said as she walked out.
The silence of the room felt too loud for me. I couldn't help but think about what happened — and where the bouquet was.
"I wish I could look around," I said softly.
That's when the door creaked open. I froze, terrified — too scared to move, though I couldn't really move anyway.
"Leil..." a woman's voice called. It sounded familiar.
"Come in," I said faintly.
I was shocked to see Nickzia.
"Oh, Zia... what are you doing here?"I asked, looking at her.
"I heard you were in the hospital. That's why I came," she said, her voice trembling as if she were about to cry. Seeing her that way made my chest tighten — I never could stand seeing anyone cry.
"Oh, yeah... but I'm alright. I just can't move my whole body — except my mouth," I said, trying to assure her that I was fine.
"I'm sorry to what happened to you Leil" She said looking down the floor
I don't know why she's saying sorry for no reason, I can't help but ask.
"Why are you apologizing for it? it's not your fault" I said looking at her with a confusing face.
She stood there for a while and I can't help but to think of something—Is she the one who turned off the light?
"I came to school... Just so you know, go to you" her voice was trembling and her eyes are started to has the light—looks like she was about to cry.
I was about to speak but there was a loud knock on the door.....