Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Romance

Chapter 21 
          Chris waited until Oliver and the man had finished talking and Oliver left before walking out of the corner. Chris tightened the grip he had on his sling bag to calm his nerves and walked right in the direction of the man. He had hoped that the man standing in front of his mother's room was nothing more than a mere coincidence but the man clearly had no plans of leaving soon as his hand was literally an inch away from the door handle. It wasn't a second later before the man noticed him. Chris made sure to keep his pace and stare down at his feet as he walked to not make eye contact with Greg.
          Greg put his hand that was reaching for the door handle down and stared interestingly at the boy in a uniform that was walking towards him. 
          When he was just a few feet away from the man, Chris suddenly picked up speed, startling Greg, causing him to stumble a few feet backwards, caught off guard by Chris's sudden movements. Chris then took the opportunity he had created to hurridly open the door of his mother’s room and enter. The moment he set foot in the room, he slammed the door shut. 
          “H-Hey! Wait!” Chris heard Greg shout from the outside but Chris didn't bother to answer him, instead he proceeded to lock the door. 
          “Who is in there?! Open up!” Chris heard Greg shout as he knocked and tried to open the door. 
          Chris turned to take a look at his mother, finally putting his worried mind at ease when he saw her sleeping peacefully. He was worried something might have happened to her. 
          The knocking on the door evolved into banging at one point and the noise prompted a very agitated Chris to shout, “Go away! Otherwise, I’ll call the cops!” 
           There was a brief moment of silence, the banging ceased and Chris thought he had succeeded in driving the man away, but then he heard the man on the other side ask, “...... Chris?” His voice laced with uncertainty. 
          Chris's heart dropped and he broke a cold sweat. He panicked at the mentioned of his name. 
          Pin drop silence. 
          “That’s you in there, right? Chris?” As he received no reply from Chris, Greg tried again, this time there was more certainly in his voice. He pulled on the handle multiple times so suddenly, startling Chris, he backed away from the door, fear like a snake creeping up his body.
           “Chris! Please open the door! It’s your father.” The man on the other end shouted. 
           At that, Chris snapped, “You’re not my father! I don’t have a father!” Chris could feel his hands trembling. The guts of that person to even address himself as his father! 
           A series of furious knocks landed on the door and this time, Chris heard Oliver shouting, demanding, “Chris! This is Doctor Oliver. Open the door!” 
           Chris was fully prepared to escape from the window, when he heard Greg negotiate with Oliver, “It’s okay, Doctor. I’ll come back another day.” 
          “Chris, this is my current residence address and number, do call me.” Chris saw a slip of paper, being pushed through the gap from underneath the door, at a much closer look, it was a receipt with something scribbled on the back of it. 
          “Goodbye Chris, I’ll be taking my leave now.” The man's voice cracked at his name and Chris cringed for the 100th time. 
          Chris listened hard for footsteps trailing away. And only after making sure Greg had left, only did Chris unlock the door. 
          “Look here, Chris, you shouldn’t…...” Oliver walked into the room and started lecturing but before Oliver could even finish his sentence, Chris pushed passed him and exited the room. 
          Chris kept walking and walking, not sparing one look back. The initial shock of his father's sudden appearance has long worn off and there was nothing but rage left in him. He felt so angry. 
          Why did his father suddenly turn up? Especially after all these years. The worst of all, is that while there is no doubt that the voice and face clearly belonged to his father but every thing, absolutely every thing else about him has changed. The man that turned up today wasn’t the man Chris recognised in the past. He was wearing a suit, his hair was neat and tidy, the leather shoe he had on was freshly polished, he was composed, not crazy and looking very healthy. 
          Chris felt a shiver run down his spine. His father has changed too much. This is not right! Chris thought to himself as he ran into the streets, hoping that the crowd would swallow him up. Nothing seemed to make any sense. Confusion was an understatement. 
                      XXXXXXXXXX
          “Are you okay, Doctor?” A nurse asked as Oliver adjusted his cloak, that was slightly ruffled when Chris ran passed.
          Oliver raised a hand to indicate that he was fine. 
          “Should we chase after him?” The nurse asked this time. 
          “Let him be.” Oliver said as he walked up to Chris's mother.
          As he passed the bin, something in the empty bin caught his eye. He noticed the slip of paper that Grey had written his information on laying in the bin, crumpled. 
                        XXXXXXXXXX
          Chris blinked hard against the harsh light. He gasped in horror when he found that he was once again in the apartment of horror. This time it was clearly midday, evident by the harsh sunlight coming in from the open windows. 
          He heard laughter and his eyes shifted to where he saw two figures siting on the ground backfacing him. A woman and a boy which Chris immediately recognised to be the same recurring boy that has appeared in his dream for the umpteen time. This was the first time Chris saw the boy interacting with someone else and the first time where he wasn't sad, afraid or nervous, in fact, the emotion on the boy's face was one of pure bliss, free of any form of stress. Chris couldn't help but smile at the warm scene. 
          Chris's gaze landed on the woman when she suddenly landed a loving kiss on the boy's forehead, the boy giggling at the affection. Chris wasn't at all prepared when the woman suddenly stood up and the moment she turned around, Chris frozed. 
          The chillest of chills ran down his spine at what he saw. Chris felt a lump form in his throat, constricting his ability to breath, let alone speak. He was pretty sure his mouth was gaping open like an idiot.  
          The woman looked so much like his mother. In fact, she looked the spitting image of his mother. Maybe what his mother would look like a few years younger but that was definitely his mother. How is she here, when she should be at the hospital. Tears unknowingly started welling up in his eyes. His mother was walking, alive and breathing like a perfectly normal person. 
          “M-Mom.” he uttered nervously. No amount of words could effectively describe what Chris was going through right now. It was equivalent to a mental breakdown. He was stunned beyond belief, he stood rooted. 
          After remembering to breath and calming down, Chris watched the woman wave goodbye to the boy, which the boy reciprocated with a wide smile before leaving the house. Left all alone with the boy once again, it took everything in Chris to tell himself that this was just a dream and that none of this were real. But gosh, it feels so so real. 
          Chris shakily walked over to see what the boy was doing. He squatted a few feet away from the boy. The boy was fiddling around with a bottle of glue in his hands, his big round eyes watching interestingly, totally captivated with the opaque substance flowing around in the transparent plastic bottle whenever he shook it. Chris watched the boy amusement. The smile on the boy's face etched into Chris's mind. 
          Chris watched as the super glue escaped the open lid of the bottle and some of it got onto the boy’s hand. The smile on the boy's face instantly dropped and staring at the patches of glue that got onto his hands, he started to tear up. The boy dropped the glue on the floor like it was lava and got up and ran in the direction of the kitchen. The boy's reaction to glue shocked Chris, he got up and followed the boy into the kitchen. The boy stood atop the stool and begun running water over his left hand that was stained with glue. The boy furiously tried to wash off the glue, scrubbing until his hand redden, yet the glue refused to come off. 
          Looking at how upset the boy was over a little glue on his hand, Chris couldn't contain his laughter and started laughing. 
          “Don’t worry, it’ll come out after a few washes.” Chris said.
          Suddenly, there were noises coming from the front and a few harsh knocks landed on the door. Chris was the first to notice, he turned to the direction of the noise while the boy was still too caught up with the task at hand. Chris frowned. Whoever was at the door didn't seem like good news, his six sense screaming danger. 
          A few more knocks came and Chris watched wide eyed as the boy switched off the tap, alerted by the second batch of knocks, jumped off the stool and ran back into the living room. 
          “No! Don’t go!” Chris shouted but he was too late, the boy was already running towards the door. 
          Chris chased after the boy. “Wait!” He shouted. He has never hated not being able to be heard so badly than at that moment. The boy was already at the door, a hand going up to the door handle. The moment the boy unlocked the door, masked men barged in. The boy was mercilessly pushed aside. 
          “Where is that bastard?!” Someone shouted. The people started ransacking the already very messy apartment. Amongst the pandemonium, Chris's eyes searched for the boy, he found him huddled up in the corner of the room, shaking in fear. Regret overshadowing fear in his eyes. 
          “Get away from my son!” Chris heard a shout from a distance. The woman has returned, standing at the door, a paper bag of grocery on the ground besides her feet, several of its contents fallen out of the bag, probably dropped by her the moment she realised what was happening. 
         She scrambled towards her son, dropping to her knees and pulling the very distraught boy into her arms, a hand combing through his jet black hair in an attempt to calm her son, “What do you want?!” She shouted at the men. 
          “We are looking for a man by the name of Greg. We were told that this was his residence.” One answered coldly. 
          “We know of no such a man!” The woman spat back at the man. 
          “You don’t really think that we will believe you right?” One of the masked man asked, snickering. 
          "You had better tell us his whereabouts! That bastard stole from us and we ain't letting him go easily!" 
          The woman's eyes widened at the proclamation of the men. An unreadable expression plastered on her face which Chris could only presume was sadness. Her face darkened and she pulled the boy in her arms closer, no longer fighting back. 
          "Search everywhere, take anything of value!" The same man ordered, his tone wicked. Chris could tell that the man smirked behind the mask he wore as a disguise. 
           Chris could not believe what he was witnessing. Everthing was happening way too fast. One moment, the men were ransanking everything and when they couldn’t find what they wanted or anything that could be deemed valuable, they destroyed the place, smashing and throwing everything. 
          Chris shouted and screamed until his throat become sore but no matter what he did to try to stop the masked men, his actions were completely in vain. Nobody was listening and nothing was working. The hard reality that he didn’t exist in this world hitting him hard over his head. Chris looked over to the mother hugging the son, both looking absolutely wreaked and broken, the boy already a sobbing mess in the arms of the woman who was trying hard to stay strong, biting on her lower lip, fighting back tears threatening to fall from her eyes. And here he was completely and utterly helpless, watching in absolute horror. 
          Chris's eyes shot open the moment he felt the sharp pain that coursed through the right side of his torso. Wincing in pain, he groaned as he rolled his body to the side to wrap his right arm, realising that he had fallen off the bed. Chris cursed as he pulled himself off the cold hard floor and dropped his aching body back on the bed, falling like a rock. 
          His hands fumbled around the empty bed, looking for the blanket and pillow, when he couldn't find them, he just laid there wide awake, staring up at the ceiling, too drained of any energy to pick them up from the other side of the floor they most probably fell at. 
          It was going to be another long night....... 

All Rights Reserved @ 2018 by Anne Teng

Authors note:
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

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