Chapter 3 The birthmark

Wilton sneezed and woke back up, sitting on the ground. The whole crowd present was surprised too. "Are you okay?" he asked me, his eyes filled with concern. I was taken aback by his question. Something I noticed was the worried look he was wearing, and we locked eyes for some moment. Then, a bodyguard ran over to us. "Are you okay, boss?" the man said.

I swallowed my saliva as I stood up from the floor. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Wilton asked me again. "Or would you like to visit the hospital?" He said, his tone soft and caring.

"But why are you not using honorifics with me?" I said out loud, noticing how he was talking to me as if we were age mates. "Why are you dropping the formal language?"

Wilton chuckled. "But does that really matter now? If you're sick, you can just take a leave and rest at home. Why wear yourself out?" He said loudly, his voice firm but gentle, as he picked up his bag from the ground and walked away. The bodyguard followed him, leaving me standing there, still trying to process what just happened.

As I watched them disappear into the crowd, I couldn't help but wonder who Wilton really was. A student, a bodyguard, or something more? And why did he seem to care so much about my well-being? The questions swirled in my head, leaving me with a sense of confusion and curiosity.

I checked the time and found out that time had gone; it was just a few minutes left until 6 pm. I remembered checking the time when I left school, which was 4:30 pm. How did I spend two hours and end up back on the street? That was when I remembered I was yet to pick up my child from school.

I rushed to the school, my heart racing with worry. When I arrived, I was greeted by a concerned teacher. "But you came two hours ago to pick up your son," she told me. I was perplexed; I couldn't recollect anything right from when Miss Tolerance called me. Aside from that, I couldn't remember anything else.

I became even more worried as I ran over to my house to check on my child. "Gift! Gift! Where are you?" I screamed with my deepest voice. I was so scared when I couldn't find my daughter, and that was when I checked inside her room and found her sleeping peacefully.

I was relieved to see her safe and sound, but the questions still lingered in my mind. What happened during those two missing hours? Why couldn't I remember anything? And who was Wilton, the mysterious student who seemed to be connected to my husband's past? I held Gift close, trying to push aside the questions and fears that were swirling in my mind, but I knew I couldn't ignore them for long.

"Mom, have you returned? Did you get my ice cream?" my baby speaks from her sleep, her voice groggy and confused.

"Wake up, honey, can you tell me what happened? Where did I say I was going?" I ask her, tapping her gently to wake her up and talk to me.

She rubs her eyes, still half asleep. "When we were at the bus stop, you asked me to wait while you got me an ice cream. I waited for a long time, the sun was so scorching, I waited and got scared. When it was after an hour, that was when I started walking home by myself," my little girl says, her voice trembling.

My eyes become red from getting teary, and I feel a lump form in my throat. How on earth could I forget my daughter and go missing for 2 hours? The guilt and shame are overwhelming.

"Oh, Gift, I'm so sorry, baby. Mommy made a mistake. I don't know what happened, but I promise it will never happen again," I say, hugging her tightly and trying to hold back my tears.

Gift looks up at me, her eyes filled with confusion and fear. "What happened, Mommy? Why did you forget me?"

I take a deep breath, trying to explain. "I don't know, sweetie. Mommy got lost for a little while, but I'm back now, and I'll never leave you again."

My death day is getting nearer. Am I really dying soon? The thought sends a chill down my spine. I decided to return to the doctor's office, hoping to find some answers.

As I sit in the doctor's office, I can feel the fear and anxiety building up inside me.

"I'm not saying I won't die, but can I spend the rest of my day in peace?" I plead, my voice shaking with emotion. "It normally takes about 15 minutes before...I lose track of time in 15 minutes. But now it's 2 hours, and I left my young, innocent daughter alone, wandering around the streets. I'm scared of losing track of time and finding myself in a dreamy yet life-threatening hallucination again. I don't want to endanger my daughter's life. I want to enjoy the rest of my time with her," I say, my eyes welling up with tears.

The doctor looks at me with a sympathetic expression, and I can see the concern in his eyes. "Let's run some tests, and we'll see what we can do to help you," he says gently.

I nod, feeling a sense of desperation wash over me. I need answers, and I need them fast. I can't bear the thought of leaving my daughter behind, not like this. I take a deep breath and try to calm down, but the fear and uncertainty are eating away at me.

"I'm sorry, but there's really nothing I can use to help you. The level of your forgetfulness is affiliated with how fast the cancer is spreading. Very soon, 2 hours will become 4 hours, 4 hours will become 12 hours, and soon you might forget a whole day in your life. The memory of people you love will start disappearing from your head until you can't remember anything again." This was so scary to hear from the doctor; I went home feeling devastated. I was crying as I glanced back at my husband's photo hanging on the wall.

"Honey, how's everything over there? Have you met Albert Einstein, the one scientist you're bent on meeting? The doctor said I'm dying in 3 months." Could you believe I forgot Gift for 2 hours? She cried and slept famished. Do you remember that night we conceived her? You and I couldn't sleep until the following day; we were all chatty and playful with her pinky little nails. I said, crying and looking at his picture.

"But babe, I want to tell you something. I don't know if I'm hallucinating again. I saw a boy with your birthday tattooed on his chest, just like yours. When I asked about his name in class, could you believe he gave me your name, Mike Einstein? Just like you always said, 'I don't really know, maybe you are back in a new human form.'" I soliloquized as I slept beside my daughter, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, my husband was still with me in some way.

Tears streamed down my face as I held onto the memories of my husband and our life together. The thought of forgetting him, forgetting our daughter, and forgetting my own life was too much to bear. I felt like I was losing myself, piece by piece, and I didn't know how much longer I could hold on.

( Wilton point of view: )

I stood in my house, trembling in fear, washing away blood from my hands. "No, I'm not the one, I didn't kill anyone! I'm fine, I should compose myself," I said, trying to calm down as I looked at myself in the mirror.

But as I walked out of the bathroom, I saw Catherine in the sitting room, her face twisted in fury. "Why did you do it?" she shouted, her voice piercing through the air.

"Wait, I can explain," I begged, trying to reason with her.

But before I could say another word, she pulled out a gun and shot me. I felt a searing pain, and everything went black.

But as I opened my eyes, I realized it was all just a dream. I sat up on my bed, relieved, and let out a deep sigh. I stood up and began to undress, ready to take a shower.

As I entered the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and froze. My chest had a deep black wound, and the date of birth tattooed on my chest seemed to be staring back at me, looking deeper and more ominous than before.

I shook my head, trying to clear the haze. On the table, I saw the rough sheet I had been using to work on a problem related to Newton's law of uncertainty principles. My mind was still reeling from the dream, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease.

Just then, my phone started ringing. The display showed "Dad" as the caller. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should answer. The phone beeped for a few minutes before stopping. When it did, my background photo displayed Catherine's picture.