💞Chapter Eight💞

“Ella, whenever you want somebody to talk to—I’m here, okay?” I nodded. Bell was here at the funeral of my father and the ceremony just ended. With his wife’s consent—my father was buried at my mother’s side.

I held back my tears. Still, I promised not to cry. I vowed to be braver than before. But God knew, how heavy this was in me.. Bell tapped me as we walked through the parking lot.

“Doctor Bryx is here, too. Look,” She pointed out the man who was standing outside his car but seemingly waiting for..well, he always sent letters to me—some flowers too but everything went in trash bins!

I should at least thanked him for dropping by. Right? I cleared my throat when he approached me and glanced at Bell’s teasing eyes. I knew that—Bell wished me to give Bryx a chance.

No.

“Doctor Bryx, thanks for coming.” Casual as I should be, I told him that. I could only count those times that I talked to him.

“No problem, Ella. Like what I said—anytime for you.” Urg. My ears stung and those words from a man promising to stay—like, forever was always something that I couldn’t buy. Forever was only a word to flatter somebody.

“Uhm, I gotta go ahead—“ Bell here had a plan but I held unto her arms and pulled her back. No and no.

“Yeah, we’re going now.” I waved goodbye to Bryx and he smiled at me even he was obviously gloomy. I only had a space—for my father and not yet ready for someone like Bryx. Although, I had heard he got only one long-term ex-fiancée but turned the other way around. He was the one being cheated.

***

“Hey,” I had to say something to this man with an oxygen tube and still fighting for his life. Nixon Brooks. I hated to admit but—he was the one whom opened my eyes to forgive dad. Now, after at the funeral I had to visit and check him here—he asked my helped, right?

“Why aren’t you still awake?” I mean, I knew I wished him to be dead but—hell, it was just he did a great relief of something I thought I had not and been long elapsed.

He was still not fine.

Well, his angel told him something about me. It’s crazy but—Nixon’s ghost was communicating to me, right? I should, at least believed that there were angles, too!

“You supposed to be well—I wished you well, Nixon Brooks.” Finally, I said before leaving his room. I got an exhausted day after the funeral—I still went to Monika’s house and stayed there for two hours with Bell.

I promised a tea-visit this weekend.

I think, I’m gonna like the old lady. Such a shame that we only knew each other a little too late. The way she managed to tell jokes even when she’s sad? That was..tough. I admired her that way.

***

I saw her soft spot. I felt good when she finally gave away to forgive his dying father. And yet, I didn’t understand—I was still not waking up or anything. Even showing some good progress at the hospital.

Why? I already helped Ella—such a great help that I less anticipated she’d thought about.

Eight days left. Still. My body’s not showing anything. Not moving even a toe or a finger.

I waited for Ella to arrive her apartment while writing a note on her diary’s last page.

Ella,

I am glad you finally gave your heart to your father before he passed away.

And I think, I should set my own self and accept the fact that I’m dying, too. Like how your father established himself when he found you.

I want to ask one last help from you.

I’ll write letters to those women I had pained presently and in the past. Will you help me hand it to them personally?

I would really appreciate it until my very last day.

Signed,

Nixon’s ghost

Then, I started writing out letters and used her stationary papers she must had left unused. I grabbed it and composed my messages to them—starting when I was twelve years old.

This is crazy—I need to remember all of them!

Okay, focus, Nixon it should come from the bottom of your playboy’s heart—kidding, I am sincere!

Finally, just after two hours of writing these letters her door knob opened and she was still wearing this same clothes at the funeral—well, I went there too. But I had to give her privacy after that especially when she stayed at Monika’s house.

I was too elated going back to the hospital and checked myself but—I was disappointed. Nothing’s changed—I was still laying on the hospital bed. What did I expect?

Well, as the angel told me. I needed to save Ella from her anger—which technical, I did. How come I was still sleeping there? Urg!

I was losing hope, yes, eight days to live seemed a bomb clock ticking in seconds away!

“A-Are you here, Nixon?” Oh. Her voice and tone was even more softer that I thought. I couldn’t help myself not to grin—I much liked it. I mean, like the way she became calmer!

“Yes, I am here, Ella. You see these letters?” I held her diary and handed it to her. She immediately closed that door and locked it—afraid that anybody might caught her playing magics, huh?

“Okay. I’ll read it.” She put her bag down and sat down at the edge of her bed. I also stayed beside her and hoping to let her agreed to it.. I had no other idea—maybe if I did that, God would gave me another chance to live anew?

Well, hoping!

She read it quick then looked at those letters neatly placed and folded below her lampshade. She pointed it.

“I believed those are your letters, huh? How sure are you that I’ll help you, Nixon Brooks?” She raised her brows. What? Was she declining! Urg! No.. I grabbed her pen and started writing on her diary again while it was still on her hand.

Please…? I can’t hold objects without you, Ella! That was true! I really couldn’t! I tried it when I was about to smashed things to Titus, right? But without Ella—I got no superpower! Yeah, damn it. I called my ultimate superpower but she acted like my battery though.

“Oh really?” She really didn’t believe me at all.

I only have eight days to live. I need to say sorry to them—just like that your father did to you. Well, I must accept that sooner or later—I’d be gone. I will never bother you again, Ella. Just help me for this one. Okay? Please?

She was exactly looking at the right direction where I was now—a foot apart. She couldn’t see me at all but it seemed she knew where to look me in the eye, huh.

“I’ll help you, Nixon Brooks.” Yas! Finally! Whooa! I was jumping literarlly—wished she could see me jumping off her bed!

Thank you so much, Ella Moray… I lastly wrote on her diary.