I was hardly conscious.
Between reality and dream, my consciousness was wavering, thoughts intermittently gleaming.
Then came a stuttering voice, jolting me from half-assed hypnagogia, causing my eyes to widen.
"Y-Yo?"
Looking at the incoming voice, my eyes twitched seeing the man.
'This fucker…'
"Where are the pomegranates that I asked you to bring?" I asked the man in front of me, who was supposed to be my caretaker.
"A-Avocados taste better, you know?"
"…"
'Fuck Avocado.'
Don't get me wrong, I don't hate it, and I don't complain if it is part of a meal. But…
Every day seems to be torture.
"Fine, I am starving." With a reluctant voice, I uttered it out. It was nine in the morning, and I hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon.
"I'll have your meal ready in just a moment..."
He continued, "…Check out what I bought! A street vendor offered this for a low price, and I was tempted to purchase it. Do you know why? This shines brightly and is visually stunning." He brought out a bowl like hardened clay from the basket of fruits with a proud grin on his face.
The hardened clay was shaped like a small, shallow bowl with a pointed end to hold a wick. The clay body was unglazed and earthy brown, giving it a rustic, handcrafted feel.
When filled with oil and lit, the wick casts a warm, steady glow. The flame itself was gentle and golden.
I let out a sigh.
Sigh…. I am 24 years old and still haven't had a girlfriend. Such looks are wasted on the bed all alone.
"Doctor thinks you're a tidbit from beating cancer, Wixx! Do not give up the hope yet." Worry was crystal clear on his face.
"I sure will beat the cancer…" Internally, I said, 'and get myself a girlfriend'.
After having quite a heavy meal, I usually take a nap. But today, I went to walk over to the garden.
…
The garden was designed as a serene and therapeutic escape, inviting both patients and visitors to take a peaceful moment away from the clinical environment.
There is a small fountain in the middle adding a soothing rhythmic sound from where the water cascades gently making ripples in the surrounding pond.
Careful landscaping is accompanied by a selection of plants, evoking the garden to be a pleasant and uplifting place, for those seeking comfort and solace in nature.
A young girl named Ana, around six years old with a bright smile and pigtails, walked over to Wixx who was sitting on a bench.
Wixx was on his phone, he looked up and smiled at her as she approached.
"Hey, Mr. Wixx! Still here watching flowers grow?", Ana swings her arm happily.
Wixx chuckled, "Hello, Ana! Of course, someone has to keep an eye on them. What would they do without me?"
"They'd probably be so bored without you!" She replied seriously. "My mommy says you have the best stories to tell."
"Well, your mum's a smart lady!" Wixx smiled, then said, "I am sure she can tell who brings sunshine to this garden." And tapped her nose.
"That's me," giggles Ana, enthusiastically. "And I know all the prettiest flowers here, too. Want me to remind you?"
Wixx pretended to look surprised, "Remind me? Oh, I could never forget! But I'd love a refresher from the expert herself."
Ana took his hand with a big grin and led him toward a bed of bright orange marigolds.
"Look, these are still my favorite. They're like little suns that never get tired."
Wixx nodded, "And they're brighter every time you show them to me, you know."
"That's because I tell them secrets!" Ana leaned in conspiratorially, "Happy secrets, so they grow extra bright."
"Well, thank you, Ana. You've got the magic touch, I think. Makes me feel better already." Wixx smiled warmly.
As Ana chatted happily with Wixx, a nurse walked over with a gentle smile, ready to take her back inside.
"Alright Ana, it's time to let Mr. Wixx rest now," she softly touched Ana's shoulder. "Your mom's waiting for you."
Ana nodded reluctantly "Okay…" She turned back to Mr. Wixx with a small smile, "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Wixx. Don't let the flowers get lonely!"
Wixx smiling warmly, "I won't, Ana. You make sure to tell them more happy secrets tomorrow, alright?"
"Promise! Bye!" Ana grinned.
The nurse gently took Ana's hand, leading her away as she waved over her shoulder. Wixx waved back, watching her go, a smile lingering on his face as the nurse and Ana disappeared down the garden path.
Wixx, after with his phone scrolling mindlessly, walked up to feel and touch the marigold of the garden with a smile on his face.
BOOM!
Wixx looked up just as it happened.
…
The monotonous sound of electrical machines chiming in the melody to one's ear, if not, a buzzing noise.
Machines were constantly making a melodic sound that was scarcely audible if one did not concentrate.
BOOM!
Wixx looked up just as it happened.
The building where he supposedly had his cabinet – erupted in a catastrophic display of orange and red. The blast wave rolled across the building from his cabinet like a visible wall of force.
Chaos erupted as the ground-shaking explosion reverberated throughout the area.
The suddenness and intensity of the explosion caused immediate fear and confusion within people near the area.
Time slowed to a cruel crawl.
Wixx saw every detail with brutal clarity; the expanding fireball, the debris riding the shockwave, and the terrified expressions of nurses, patients, and visitors running away in slow motion. His mind registered each fragment of the scene in perfect, pristine detail.
The sound came last. Not the explosion itself, but something deeper, more primal. A pressure wave of such magnitude that it transcended mere noise. It was as if the air itself had become a solid thing, hammering into his chest with physical force.
His heart, already racing from the visual stimulus, couldn't handle the dual assault.
The surge of adrenaline, the overwhelming sensory overload, the sheer impossible intensity of it all – it was too much for his system to process.
Wixx didn't feel pain.
There was only a sudden, crystal-clear moment of understanding.
His last thought wasn't of family or unfulfilled dreams. It was-
"Marig–"
He was dead before his phone hit the ground, the screen still glowing with an unread message that would never matter.
The official report would later state 'cardiac arrest induced by acute stress response.' In Layman's terms: Wixx hadn't just died from the shock – he had died from the storm of sensory overload, a moment where reality became too real, too fast, and too loud.
His body was found still standing, eyes wide open, as if frozen in that final moment of absolute comprehension. In the end, it wasn't the explosion that killed him –
It was the sheer impossibility of processing its existence.
***