Chapter 24: A long story

Owen wandered slowly into the lit hospital room. The curtains that draped over the beds that he passed were a light blue color. He could hear a heart monitor beeping at the very end of the room, where he assumed his mother lay.

Something in his mind told him to turn back. A voice that didn't want to see what his mother had become. With every step he took, closer and closer to the bed, it seemed like it was getting farther and farther away. There was a giant pit in his stomach as he reached for the curtains. He gripped the curtains and hesitated. He couldn't do it. He started to cry. Tears hit the floor of the hospital room as he tried bringing himself to pull back the curtains.

"...hard isn't it?," a voice said to the right of him. Owen turned to see a man laying in the bed next to Martha's. He had gray hair and a ice pack on his head.

"E-excuse me...?," Owen asked.

"It's hard, isn't it? Can't bring yourself to pull it back can't ya? I have been there more times than I can count...but you need to be brave...," the man said.

"W-who are you?," Owen asked the man.

"I'm just a delivery man, kid," the man said.

"D-delivery man?," Owen said in a confused tone.

The man nodded and beckoned Owen over to him. Owen then walked up to the strange man.

"Lay out your hand, son," the man said.

Owen then gave the man his right hand. The man then put his hand over Owen's forearm. Owen's arm started to glow. As the man then took his hand off of his arm he smiled.

"Now you will be strong...remember, someone up there is watching you...," the man said. Owen then gazed at his arm. It was completely fine. It didn't hurt or anything. He looked up and the man seemed to have vanished into thin air. He looked around and scanned the room for any evidence as to what happened to the man, but there was nothing. Confused, he slowly backed up then turned to face the curtains to his mother's bed. He slowly walked up to it. Now, he still felt a deep sadness, but now he felt that he just had to. He had to be there for her, now more than ever. He pulled back the curtains to find his mother laying in her bed. When her eyes met Owen, she weakly smiled.

"O-owen...honey," she said.

"Mom!," Owen shouted as he walked over toward her and took her hand. It seemed cold to the touch, almost as if it was lifeless. It was as though her fingers were going to freeze off. She, herself, couldn't clench her fist, so she weakly held Owen's hand.

"I am so sorry this happened, honey...I didn't want any of this," Martha said.

"No...I'm sorry I got myself into this mess... if I would have ran... none of this would have...," He said.

"No!... Don't blame yourself... you did the right thing, honey... you are just like your father...," she said.

"M- my...father?," Owen said. This was the first time since Owen has lived with her that he has heard her mention anything about his father in conversation. He always asked how his father was and who he was but she would always avoid answering. 

"Mike...I haven't told you for a long time, Owen...It's only right for you to know what happened...

...that night," Martha said.