A cool breeze starts to blow from the East. The darkness around me slowly turns from grey to  green as the morning sunlight starts rolling on the trees all around the courtyard. I drink in the heady smell of grapefruit blossoms which have started to drop to the ground one by one. I would have been busy by now, running around the courtyard, gathering those fallen blossoms. But this morning has changed everything for me.

As I stood there, gazing at the play of light and shadow on the swept courtyard, I can only hear the roar of floodwaters smashing through the lockgates of an old rusty dam. The river roars inside my soul, raising its head in millions of snake hoods, ready to engulf me in its venomous darkness. How could I see those spirits from Hell! How did I even know what they had been? They had flown away without taking Nana's soul, as if they were afraid of me! How was it even possible?

Mechanically, I prepare myself for going out. I grab a few biscuits and an apple lying around the kitchen and  leave the house. In absence of that one person the whole household is in a chaos this morning. No one cares to notice where I'm going, so I can go out peacefully.

I arrive at the hospital, worrying all the way how I should find Nana there. Luckily, I find one of my uncles standing below a tree by the side of the hospital gate and smoking a cigarette. He is surprised to see me alone there.

"Mimo?" He asks. "Why have you come here alone? Does anyone at home know that you are coming here?"

'There you go again! Ranting and lecturing!' I think bitterly. 'What do these people think? That I'll be lost like a silly two-year old?'

Still, I keep my face indifferent and ask about Nana. "Don't worry there! The doctor says that she'll be fine. She's sleeping now," he tries to assure me. But I can easily tell when someone is lying to me.

"Can I go see her, just for five minutes?" I beg to him. He hesitates for a moment, then gives in. 

"Alright! Go and see her. You are her pet, after all!" As he says this, a corner of his mouth goes slightly upward in disdain. He thrusts a small rectangular piece of stiff yellow paper in my hand. "Here's the gatepass. Keep it safe and return it to me when you come back. I'll be waiting here," he says. 

As I nod and start walking towards the front door of the hospital, I turn the yellow piece of paper in my hand. A number is written on it. It must be the number of the room she is in. I show it at the reception counter and they tell me how I should find the room. Following it, I arrive in front of a white door on which a wooden number plate is stuck. Yes, this the room I have been looking for.

I try to push the door open as stealthily as I can, but the old wooden door doesn't relent and makes a tiny screeching sound. Still, it isn't enough to rouse Nana from her comatose sleep.

I go in and stand by the side of her bed. Covered up to her chin in a white sheet and lying on a white bed sheet, she looks like an unreal presence merged in the surrounding whiteness. For the first time since last night, I feel scared.

Holding her cold right hand in my warm palm, I gaze into her face. It lookes grey, shrivelled. 

My heart tightens. I know deep inside that she is sinking, bit by bit. What can I do to hold her back?

My grip on her palm tightens as I try to focus and lay my fingers upon her consciousness. At first I don't feel anything. Then slowly a warm feeling starts to emerge from within her. It's the light of her soul still flickering and radiating warmth!

As I hold her hand, I begin to merge my warmth into her. Slowly, the light within her flickers brighter. Her breath becomes slow and even. A look of peaceful sleep comes over her face.

I stand up, my legs weak and my head dizzy. I have given away too much of my life force to her. But what else could I do? I'm not yet ready to let her go.

Leaving her sleeping there I leave the room and go down the stairs into the reception hall. All around me there are people moving along, the sick and wounded and the healthy ones accompanying them. But mixed in that crowd, also move some who seem like vague and uncanny shadows, falling on the murky water of a pool, tucked inside some hidden wood. As I pass them, they seem to give me a sidelong glance, as if they know me, but are afraid of recognizing me in the open! 

I avoid them and hurry across the hall. My uncle is still there under the tree, talking with a person whom I have never seen before. I go and hand over the gatepass. 'How did she look?' He asks me.

"She's sleeping." I reply curtly. "Now go home straight, Mimo!" He says, his voice sounding annoyed. 

I curse in my mind. How can he be so rude to the orphaned child of his dead sister? But I guess I'm not a very likable person either. I can't cuddle up to anyone and be puppy-eyed! I'm silent and sulking, hidden mist of the time in some secluded corner of the huge ancient building where we live. So I can't really blame him for not being too fond of me.

I return home. I'm already too late for school. But I can't even think of hanging around the house in that chaotic state. I go to the kitchen and find the cook and my eldermost aunt scurrying about there. Everything there seems to be in a mess. Without Nana it's not possible for them to manage the household chores efficiently.

"Can I have something to eat?" I ask, knowing perfectly well that the answer will be in negative. My aunt doesn't even bother to look my way. But the old cook seems to take pity in me. Without looking at me she says, "There's a bowl of rice in the refrigerator. Heat it in the microwave oven and put some butter in it. I can't give you anything more right now."

'That's more than enough!' I think and thanking her I come away from there to the dinning room. Heating a handful of rice,  I mush a lump of frozen butter into it and gobble it up. It doesn't taste bad as I never really care about savouring foodstuff. For me, food is just a bare necessity.

Finishing my meagre meal, I steal out of the house once again, prepared to spend the day lurking in some old ruin along the wild bank of the river.