"WAAH! MAMA! HELP ME MAMA! NO!"
The little boy, the source of the sound, was hurriedly being carried into a huge room hidden by huger glass doors. His head was covered in blood, his red t-shirt darkened by it.
She felt his high-pitched wails reverbating through her ear drums. She wiped the streams of salty liquid incessantly oozing from her eyes, but her sleeve wouldn't soak them, for they were already soaked in his blood.
She stared down at the bright white floors of the City Hospital, the blood on her sleeves dripping down, staining them. Haemoglobin mixed with the floor cleaner, the smell making her more and more nauseous by the second.
"Misae Nohara?"- an inquisitive voice called. "Yes, coming", she whimpered, pulling herself towards a tiny cabin behind a shaded glass door.
"Injury to his head is severe, therefore we don't have high hopes on the victim", the man in the white coat said, inflicting pain upon her through words. "But luckily, your daughter is safe", a woman in an identical coat assured her, handing over her daughter, a bandage tied round her tiny head. Her sunflower, who might end up being her only child.
"Misae!" A familiar voice. " Hiroshi!", she embraced the caller as tight as she could. Her husband.
The next hour felt like a century to Misae. Hand in hand with Hiroshi, he warmed up her ice-cold fingers. Her head was spinning, and she was still in shock.
"Uh, Mrs. Nohara?", the doctor called out, exiting a glass door. "I am her husband, please tell me."
"I have great condolences for you and your family. We...we have lost him."
Misae froze. All she felt after that was a black curtain closing in on her vision.
--
"Misae, Misae!", she heard a familiar voice yet again, and opened her eyelids, which she wished she had never opened after the incident. "Were you having one of those nightmares again?", Hiroshi asked, sitting beside her bed. Himawari looked on, clutching her bear toy, sadness in her eyes.
Realizing what really happened, she sat up, using as much of her energy as possible. She then slumped onto the warm shoulders of her husband and wept.
This happened everyday after the incident. The incident which changed her life forever.
--
Misae took out her Bag Of Memories, and pulled out a red crayon. She stared deep into it. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Mama, do you miss...oni-chan?", her five-year old daughter, Himawari asked. A tight embrace followed.
"Yes I do, my dear. I do miss my...Crayon...Shin-Chan", Misae muttered, with all the energy left inside her weak body.