Chapter Four: Fever Dream
The whole day felt like a fever dream. The stab he had received which later on healed completely, the man he had unknowingly and accidentally healed…
The insolvable weight of this disclosure pressed upon Jonah. He had healed the man. He had healed him with a touch, as if some mystical force flowed from his hand. Jonah had not understood how it happened, why it happed, or what it meant. He only knew it was true.
Fear began to creep in. He had been a cleaner at Welling Hospital for five years and a quiet nearly unnoticeable figure, blending into the background.
Now, he was a freak, a walking riddle. He could barely bring himself to look at his reflection in the glass, scared of the monster he might see gaping back at him.
The thought of being examined, deconstructed and studied transferred a shiver down his spine. He could not bear the thought of being in the hands of those who might exploit his power, turn him into a lab rat and a spectacle. He had to leave now.
He looked around the Street, his eyes frantically searching for an escape route. With his heart pounding in his chest and his feet slightly touching the ground, he dashed through the street.
He did not dare look back, did not dare decelerate down, not until he was far down from the area, far away from the fear that clung to him like a cloak.
He had not thought about where he was going, not until he realized he was walking towards his small apartment, his sanctuary. He was drawn to it like a moth to a honey even though he knew it wouldn’t offer him any real protection.
The streetlights cast long distorted shadows as he reached his building. His breath was ragged with his muscles screaming in stress but he pushed on, his body propelled by an adrenaline fueled desire to be home, to be alone, to be safe.
It was when he drew closer to his apartment he could finally see it. A sleek dark car parked outside his house. A car he didn’t recognize. His heart pounded against his ribs with sweat turning his limbs to lead. He couldn’t risk being seen, not by anyone.
He crept around the building, his eyes zipping in every direction. He quickly made his way to the fire escape, the rusted stairs moaning under his weight sluggishly with a creak and a moan, he crawled through the window.
He landed with a soft thud on the carpet, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The living room was silent with a single bulb casting a pool of warm light on the coffee table. But there was someone there, someone silhouetted against the light with their back to him.
He felt a swell of adrenaline, a primitive instinct to defend himself. He moved without thinking, a blur of stir movement with his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed. The figure turned, and they collided at first a jumble of limbs and hopeless flailing.
The shadowy figure screamed, a high-pitched cry that echoed through the small room. He hit back, clearly fueled by fear and confusion. The struggle went on for what felt like an eternity, a chaotic colition of fists and cries, all in the dim light of the single bulb.
And in a moment of clarity, Jonah hit the switch on the overhead light. The room lit up, banishing the shadows and his heart stopped. He was gaping into the wide and shocked eyes of Doctor Amelia his crush from Welling Hospital, the beautiful doctor he had a big crush on.
“Amelia?” he choked out, his voice coarse with unbelief.
Amelia with her face blench with shock googled at him. "Jonah? What are you doing?" her voice quivered, her eyes wide with a blend of fear and confusion.
Jonah's hands dropped to his sides, his whole body drained of energy, his face contorted with shame. “I..I am so sorry.” he stammered, his voice slightly audible. He was hugely ashamed of his actions.
“You escaped.” she said, her voice slightly audible. "I heard you ran out of the hospital.” She said.
"I am so sorry, Amelia.” Jonah replied, his heart breaking at the fear in her eyes. "I didn’t mean to scare you."
“Why did you run, Jonah?” Amelia asked, her voice strained. “What happed?” She demanded.
“I thought...I thought they were experimenting on me.” Jonah whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I was afraid. I felt strange.” He said.
Amelia’s eyes softened, her eyes moping on his face. "No one experimented on you, Jonah." She said with concern. "You were just receiving treatment. You were injured, and the hospital took care of you." Amelia explained. "You saved me and I was returning the favor."
Jonah’s eyebrows furrowed, his expression full of confusion. "But how did my stab wound heal? It was gone when I woke up. fully healed. I saw it myself." He said.
Amelia's eyes widened in surprise, and a flicker of understanding passed through them. She moved closer, her eyes on alert. "Jonah.." She whispered, her voice laced with concern. "Tell me everything." She said.
He did. He told her everything, the alleyway, the homeless man, the sensation, the warmth, the man lying on the ground totally healed, he told her everything, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and wonder.
When he finished, he noticed the wound on Amelia's forehead, a nasty cut from the struggle. It was still bleeding, a red stain on her skin.
He felt a strange coercion, a deep, primitive need to make it right. He reached out, his hand pulsing slightly, and touched her forehead, his fingers brushed against the crack.
Amelia shranked, her eyes wide with fear. "Jonah, what are you doing?" her voice gave away her fear.
But he was lost in the sensation, the rush of energy, the warmth that flowed from his hand to her crack. It felt like magic, like he was channelizing something unseen and important.
The bleeding stopped. The cut began to close, the skin stitching itself back together, leaving no trace of the injury. And then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. The cut was gone, leaving only a slight greenishness in its wake which later vanished too.
Amelia’s eyes were wide and unblinking, her jaw slack. She goggled at him, her expression filled with a mixture of astonishment, unbelief, and a hint of admiration. She was speechless, her whole body stiff with shock.
Jonah’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. He'd done it again. He’d healed her. He’d healed her with a touch. He had the power to heal, and it was more intimidating than anything he could have imagined.