145 JOYFUL NOTES
ANDRE’S POV
I stood still, eyes fixed on my mother as she walked up to me. I was supposed to go pay Ariel a visit at the hospital, cause I had a feeling she would be there. Now I was being delayed by my parents. Just great, I was the one who brought this upon myself. I woke up, got ready for work, forgetting that about Ariel.
“You’re going to work?” My mother asked, she had gotten a little bit closer to me.
“Yes. But I’ll be going to the hospital first to see how Ariel and Luke are doing.”
“Oh right. We should go and see them, don’t you think?”
“You want to come along?”
“Yes, of course. Ariel is like a daughter to me, so I really need to check up on her.”
“Okay then, we can start leaving now.”
“Woah woah woah, young man. Not so fast” my mother spoke, and I gave her a curious look.
“Anything?”
“Yes, I thought you were wounded last night.” She crossed her arms.
“Yes. Yes I was,” I responded.
“And you’re feeling better now?”
“Yes,” I answered and let out a sigh. “I am feeling better now,” I added. Honestly, when I woke up this morning, took my bath, and put on my clothes, I totally forgot I got some scars on my body. Like, it wasn’t even painful. It was like nothing happened last night.
“Are you sure about that?” My mother gave me a skeptical look.
course Elizabeth,” my father chimed in. “Can’t you see how he’s standing
can see
a strong man, and he
mom burst into laughter
are you laughing?” My dad asked, giving her a puzzled face.
laugh got harder. And seeing
just so funny?” She fixed
gaped
one time when we went camping and you got chased by bees,” my mother
no ordinary bees.” He
with her elfish tone, taunting
out of
eyes, not giving her the playful
to her laughter. “We should get going then. But
out of the house
she raised an
walked out of the house.
could hear her screaming from
****
ARIEL’S POV
of nurses outside the door created a dull backdrop to my
condition.
it happened. He was rushed to a room by the nurses, and doctors. Now I just hoped nothing bad would happen to him. The silence was suffocating, and I longed for a moment of respite from the anxiety
at me.
passing moment. I furrowed my brow in confusion, wondering where the festive sounds could be coming from in such a somber place. Then, as if materializing out of thin air, a group of Mexican musicians burst into the room, their vibrant
hats, embroidered shirts, and polished leather boots. They carried guitars, trumpets, and maracas, their fingers flying expertly over the strings and keys,
surprise as the musicians
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