The smoke from his cigarette swirled around us, a fragrant cloud in the twilight. I watched it dissipate, a symbol of change and transition. My father had found his path, his purpose. Now, it was my turn to discover mine.
With a final drag, my father extinguished the cigarette, grinding it into the pavement with a twist of his shoe.
A small wisp of smoke curled upwards, then vanished into the gathering dusk.
"Let's go home."
I nodded.
I walked around to the passenger side, the weight of the medication in my pocket.
The drive home was quiet, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of the plastic bag from the pharmacy.
"Do you have school tomorrow?" my father asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, just like usual," I replied, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window.
"Your friends don't know about your illness, do they?"
"No," I said quietly, a pang of guilt mixing with the familiar loneliness. "They don't even suspect it."
Silence filled the car, thick and heavy. The unspoken question lingered in the air between us.
"Dad," I finally asked, my voice barely a whisper, "how did you suspect my... schizophrenia, at first?"
He didn't answer immediately, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
"I don't believe in those things," he said at last, his voice firm. "Ghosts, spirits... I'm not like your grandfather, with all his talk of chosen ones and destiny. My friend, a psychologist, offered a logical explanation. He said there's no such thing as humans seeing ghosts. If they claim to, it's a malfunction in their brain, a symptom of schizophrenia."
So, he didn't believe me.
The realization stung, a cold shard of ice in my chest. I nodded, swallowing the bitter taste of disappointment.
"But after you started taking those meds, you haven't seen any more ghosts, right?"
"Well, yeah, kinda..." I trailed off, unsure how to explain the lingering unease that still clung to me.
"Good, That means the medication is working. It confirms the schizophrenia diagnosis." He paused, then added, "I'm going to stop at the minimarket up ahead. Your mother asked me to pick up a few things."
I nodded, my thoughts drifting back to that fateful day after the hospital visit. My mother, unbeknownst to my father, had taken me to a "genius"—a local healer. I remembered the strange ritual, the chanting, the flower-infused water poured over my head. After that, the ghostly visions had indeed diminished, but I couldn't be sure if it was the ritual or the pills that had done the trick.
The car slowed to a stop in front of the brightly lit minimarket.
"Wait here," my father instructed, opening the car door. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
I watched him disappear into the store, the fluorescent lights casting his shadow long and distorted on the pavement.
The silence of the car felt oppressive, the unanswered questions swirling in my mind like restless spirits.
Whoosh!
The sound, a low, rushing whisper, jolted me from my thoughts. I turned towards the window, my eyes widening as I saw a dark silhouette flit across the alley behind the minimarket.
What the... am I hallucinating?
I rubbed my eyes, blinking rapidly, but the figure remained. It moved slowly, deliberately, towards the back of the store.
"Maybe I should take my meds after dinner..." I muttered, reaching for the bottle in my pocket.
Whoosh!
The sound came again, closer this time. I peered into the darkness, and this time, I could make out its face. Its hand beckoned me, a silent invitation to follow.
...Was it telling me to come closer?
Hesitation warred with curiosity. I trembled, unsure if this was a trick of my mind or something more. But the urge to know, to understand, was overwhelming.
I opened the car door, my heart pounding in my chest, and stepped onto the pavement.
"Hello...?" My voice was barely a whisper, lost in the night air.
As I moved closer, the figure retreated, its movements fluid and ethereal. I followed, drawn into the shadows, until I reached the back of the minimarket. The silhouette, now towering and imposing, continued towards a large warehouse.
I continued to follow, my footsteps echoing in the silence of the alley. The silhouette moved with an eerie grace, its form shifting and blurring in the dim light.
As it reached the warehouse door, it paused, then simply vanished. One moment it was there, a towering shadow against the metal door, and the next, it was gone.
Did it want to tell me something?
I stood in front of the warehouse door, heart pounding, indecision washing over me.
"What should I do?" I whispered to the empty alley, the only answer the rustling of leaves in the wind.
"Get inside." The voice, deep and chilling, seemed to emanate from the warehouse itself.
It sliced through the night air, jolting me to the core.
"W-What... who...?" I stammered, panic rising in my throat. "No... I'm going back to the car. I need my meds."
I turned and ran, my legs pumping, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I scrambled into the car, slamming the door shut behind me, my entire body trembling.
Moments later, my father emerged from the minimarket, a plastic bag in hand.
"Huh... I saw you running earlier. What was that about?" he asked, placing the bag on the backseat and shifting into reverse.
"N-Nothing..." I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
I avoided his gaze, my heart still pounding. I fumbled for the medication bottle in my pocket, desperate for the familiar comfort of the pills.
The car pulled away from the curb, the unsettling encounter receding into the background hum of the engine. I swallowed the pills dry, hoping they would quell the unease that lingered within me.
Arriving home, I stepped into the familiar warmth of the living room. My mother was reclining on the couch, a book resting on her chest.
< Chapter 002 > Fin.