Michael woke up with heavy eyes. He wondered when he had fallen asleep but from how drowsy he felt, he guessed it must have been late. The previous day's events weighted a ton on his mind. The faint soft light of the morning sun did nothing to soothe him. He rubbed his eyes and walked over to the window.

There was nothing outside—no people or vehicles. The day was an infant at the moment. His locality appeared like a ghost town.

His mouth tasted bad. He pulled himself away from the window and brushed his teeth. The bad taste didn’t go.

In the mirror, he looked like a man who had been living inside a cave. His hair was pointing in all directions and his eyes were drooping with sleep. What happened yesterday had troubled Michael's mind. He felt he should not meet Ana today, make amends, and explain, but he hated the thought of facing her.

I still need to go to the hospital, Michael thought, remembering he needed to submit his reports and do the checkups.

A part of him snapped with a no. He couldn't face her, not when he was sure he was the one at fault. He wanted to apologize, let the guilt wash away, but he was afraid.

Michael gave a snort. “I am going to die. What do I have to fear?”

He gave a nod to his reflection in the mirror and decided to wait for the day to begin. Still, the doubt hovered over him.

"Good morning," Michael said to the receptionist.

The receptionist looked up and gave a polite smile towards Michael. "Good morning to you too, Mr. Strong. Here to submit the records by the files in your hands."

"Yes, you are right," Michael said, showing the folder in his hand. "Dr. Richard told me that I have some tests too."

"Ah yes, the screening. Hold on for a minute, I will call Dr. Richards."

"Of course. I will wait."

Michael reclined to one of the rowed seats. The sound of number dials buzzed at the reception desk. He eyed the folder in his hands yet his mind was elsewhere. He thought of visiting Ana now, but his nerves wouldn't allow it. He knew he was trying to prolong it.

I will speak to Ana today no matter what, he told himself.

Moments later, Dr. Richard arrived at the desk. “Hello, Michael,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

"Good, Dr. Richards," Michael replied and handed the folder. "Here are my reports."

"Oh, good job," Dr. Richard said. "Please follow me."

Michael gave a goodbye to the receptionist which she returned. He walked alongside Dr. Richards matching his brisk pace.

"So Michael, let's get a few questions out of the way," Dr. Richard said while he turned over the pages.

"Okay.”

"Do you smoke or drink?"

"I have never."

"Any drugs in the past?"

"Only medical ones. For fever and common cold mostly."

"Mostly?"

"I had tuberculosis when I was young. Will that be a problem?"

"No, no, it won't do any harm. Any sexual relations?"

"No, none."

"Did your parents have any illness?"

"Well, my father had diabetes, type-II, and suffered from blood pressure."

"Hm, then we do need to check your blood for it. Your chart’s clean, but let’s be sure of it."

"First a blood test?" Michael asked.

"Yes." Dr. Richards looked up with a reassuring smile on his face.

"So, I will have two blood tests. One before eating and one after."

"Oh, that is to check the blood sugar stability of diabetic patients."

"Ah, I see," Michael said, feeling a little embarrassed at his little knowledge.

"Don't worry, it is a common mistake." Dr. Richard said. “Your father must have done that often?”

Michael nodded.

They entered a room on the east end. Dr. Richard went to a nearby cabinet and produced a syringe, a thin plastic pipe, and a bottle of alcohol and cotton.

“Right arm please,” he said.

Michael took off his jacket and presented his arm. The doctor wrapped the pipe above Michael's elbow and tapped a few times. In a few seconds, a dark blue vein rose to the surface. He then swabbed the spot with an alcohol-soaked cotton and pushed the needle inside the bulging vein. He felt a sharp prick at the dot of his arm. He compared it to a mosquito's bite, but while a mosquito's bite flared the spot of the skin, the syringe focused at a point. “There,” Dr. Richard soothed.

Soon, the syringe filled with his blood. It was darker than he expected. Dr. Richard applied another cotton swab at the point and Michael put pressure upon it. Dr. Richard squeezed the blood into a test tube and locked it tight.

Looking at the viscous red fluid, Michael wondered how his organs would look like and how it would feel to have his organs taken out. The doctor said he would be under anesthesia but, he could feel it when he would be unconscious. “But most times you forget it when you wake up,” Dr. Richard said.

So it was like a dream, Michael concluded. A final dream, he added.

"Alright," Dr. Richard said. "Your blood will be tested soon."

"When will the results arrive?”

"By tomorrow."

"Wow, pretty fast," Michael said surprised.

"Well, we have many blood work pending. But we have cleared the quota for you."

"Am I getting the celebrity treatment?", Michael joked.

“You better enjoy it.” Dr. Richard laughed and no sooner dropped it. “Ana may need to get the organs as soon as possible.”

Michael's face went pale. The park incident bounced inside his mind. "Is she okay? What was the thing that happened to her yesterday?

"Easy there, Michael," Dr. Richard said. "Ana is A-okay, but… it can get worse. But, she is healthy for now. It is better to perform it while she’s in good health.

Michael relaxed a little. “What even happened yesterday?”

"We honestly could not find anything," Dr. Richard said with a dispassionate shrug. “It looks like it was something which could only be diagnosed at the moment of the attack Still, from your account, she seemed to have suffered from a small blackout—maybe by lack of oxygen to the brain. Now regarding what caused it… it could be the heart or the lungs."

Hearing Dr. Richard’s account, he felt Ana's condition wasn’t likely to be stable for long. He started to feel a sudden fearlessness in his heart. "Where is she? In her room?”

“Yes, she is," Dr. Richard said. "You want to visit?"

“If that is alright,” Michael said.

Dr. Richard raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment on it. “It’s no problem," Dr. Richard said. "She seemed moody yesterday when I checked her."

Michael met Dr. Richard's eyes. "You two had a fight?" Dr. Richard asked, but it sounded less of a question to Michael.

Michael pursed his lips. “How much do you know?”

"Well, I was coming to her room when I heard raised voices. They had died down before I could check."

Michael tried to speak, not knowing where to start. For all he knew, Ana must have told him everything that happened.

"Suit yourself.” Dr. Richard sighed. “And here I thought Ana was stubborn. Yes, she didn’t tell me anything either.”

Michael perked at this information. "Really?"

"Yeah. But promise you will fix this between you two."

"I promise."

"Good," Dr. Richard with a nod. "Now go."

Michael clasped his hands on his lap. Ana was in her bed, not looking at him. Both remained silent. He wished himself somewhere else. His earlier courage had slipped from his grasp as soon as he entered the room. He had said a hello on reflex on the spot. If there was some comfort to find, Ana said hello too.

But the conversation didn’t go further from there, and now he sat, fidgeting, while Ana played with her hair. He tried to think of something, something to start the talking. He told him that it would be easier once it started.

"Uh, so did your parents come yesterday?" Michael asked.

"Yes, they did," Ana said, still not looking at him.

"They must have been quite worried when they heard the news."

Ana didn’t speak immediately. She seemed to be thinking. "My father's eyes were nearly out of their sockets when I saw him,” she said finally.

Michael was surprised and became hopeful. “He cares about you," he said and pressed his luck. "Did you at least push them back in?" He saw a small smile form the corner of Ana's lips but she said nothing. The conversation was in danger. But, Michael had gathered confidence by that time. "I want to talk about what happened yesterday."

Ana didn’t say anything.

"First of all, I am sorry," Michael said. Ana looked at Michael with a steady gaze.

"I know it sounded bad what I said yesterday," Michael said, tightening his hands. "I had my reasons."

Hearing Michael made Ana's shoulders relax. She shifted in her bed, facing Michael with an expectant look.

Michael was thankful for getting this chance. He took a moment to collect himself. “I will tell you about myself.”