The Obsession of Revenge
*CONSCIOUS
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***
Typical and pungent disinfectant odor. Some people are touching his body. Touching the chest and wrist. There was the sound of someone explaining in a voice that sounded familiar.
Yada opened both of her eyes and blurred. Blinked a few times to neutralize his sight. He looked at the ceiling, then shortly looked at Yoland who was standing beside his bed.
“You're up?”
His eyes circulated to the corner of the room, then turned towards the nurse who was injecting the medicine into an infusion bottle. He knew he was in the hospital. Yada ignored Yoland's question. All she thought about at this moment was, she desperately wanted to hold the sister's arm and ask for help. Saying he needed help, the men kidnapped and tortured him. But what power, his weak body was powerless even he did not have the power to make a sound.
Not long after that the nurse left. Yada deeply regretted the opportunity he threw away. His face displayed a regretful expression.
Yoland kept looking at his face. He knew what Yada was thinking. Yolanda took a deep breath. He did not want to tell Yada if this hospital was his, and asking someone for help to escape was impossible. Yoland did not want to make the woman lose hope of continuing to live. If it was the escape he had thought of, at least he still thought of his own life.
“How are you doing? What still hurts?”
Why are you asking? You're a doctor and you know better what hurts my body, don't you? The great doctor. Inner Yada.
“It turns out you're still very weak. You need hospitalization in a few more days here.”
Yes, then I will escape.
“I'll give you vitamins to keep your body healthy again.”
Healthy? Only the pain you give.
“Good. Press this button if you need anything.”
Yoland kept a small button right on Yada's grip and thumb. No matter how weak her condition was, Yada could still push that button, and that was what she was doing now. Just as Yoland turned around to leave, a loud noise from the room startled him.
TEEEETTT!!!
Yoland closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath, then reopened it. Not long after that several mixed sisters entered the room. They looked at Yoland together.
“No problem, she was just trying to push the button,” Yoland told the sisters.
They nodded in understanding. Afterwards, the sisters and Yoland went out of the room, leaving Yada alone lying weakly on the bed.
Yada tried to raise one of his hands, which was fitted with an infusion hose, and then put it back on the bed. He also tried to move his legs slowly. But at once his stomach felt very painful and stiff. He remembered, maybe this was the pain that caused him to vomit blood before he regained consciousness today.
Suddenly his mind spun, recalling a piece of the dream he had just experienced. Bizarrely. The face she could clearly remember the plot of the dream but not the face of the woman who looked blurry in her dream. Who's the lady? Yada did not know her at all, but her body shape and voice were very familiar to Yada.
Yada had to move some parts of his body back. He did not want to be someone who was paralyzed in bed. At least he had to search for the truth of his time, and solve the dreams he had experienced these few days.
Not long after that a nun brought food for Yada. The sister raises the side of Yada's bed to the top, making Yada sit up and wake up. Then, the nurse kept the food on the table that was right in front of Yada. He started stirring the porridge in the bowl and adding warm soup to it, then thrusting the spoon filled with the porridge on Yada.
“Good.”
The nurse put the bowl back on the table.
“I'll be back again thirty minutes later,” he said who then stepped away to the outdoors.
Yada stared at the top end of her ward. He saw a red light from there. Realizing if the room has CCTV, Yada was reluctant to ask for help from the nurse in the room. Since he may not have time to leave yet, Yoland and his gang of madmen will come to lock Yada back in. I have to think of another way to go.
Her clasped fingers picked up the cutlery on the table. Scooping some porridge into his mouth. Tasteless. That's what he felt, four for a very bad hospital meal.
Yada recalls the incident a few years ago when she was treated for a fall from a ladder. Yeah, some accidents happened to him when he was at the Aurora residence. Accidents that may have occurred on purpose.
When he was hospitalized, David would always accompany him. No matter how busy the man's job was, David always stayed with him. Sleeping on the sofa provided in his ward, feeding Yada, even taking Yada for a walk to the hospital garden so that he does not get bored.
Unconsciously her tears had reminisced filled the eye peluk, dripping wet her beautiful face. His fingers just stirred the porridge in the bowl and stopped eating it. All his life, only David was the most considerate and doting on him as sincerely as possible. She misses.
I miss you, David. I miss you.
***
Allard ignites his nicotine stick, sucking and exhaling the smoke out. He had just finished with the flight, and returned to his home country. Currently Allard was in the mansion's reading room, with some papers strewn across his desk.
A man dressed in all black stood before him, giving detailed information of the events that befell the Yora clan several decades ago. The rebellion had become an open secret among the mafia, but Allard wanted more details, and wanted some solid evidence for it.
“You may go,” said Allard, and the man went out of his room.
His fingers took some photos of the Yora family while it was still complete. A couple and their two daughters smile happily in the photo. Some pictures of little girls lying there. Complete with a tattoo on his back.
It was unexpected that the woman was a missing part of the family, which had been highly sought after by my own Business colleagues. And damn again ....
Allard threw the photo roughly onto the table. Turn off his cigarette embroidery on a specially available flat roundabout. He got out of his chair, picked up a suit and put it on. Allard planned to go to the hospital, seeing the woman's condition.
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