!
"After a few days of intensive care and monitoring, the hospital deemed him fit for discharge. They didn't skimp on his treatment because of the family's standing, but of course, it wouldn't come cheap. The doctors and nurses were attentive, ensuring he healed properly. His previous condition had been dire, and now he was finally being released back into a world that suddenly felt alien to him.
After being discharged, they didn't ask for payment at that moment; they would wire it to his uncle's family. He stepped out of the hospital, squinting at the bright sun above, expecting someone to be there to pick him up.
"Maybe they are coming; let's wait..." he said, trying to ignore the sensation of dread pooling in his stomach as he stood under the scorching sun, which made even the concrete sizzle. He adjusted his shirt, feeling the fabric cling uncomfortably to his skin.
Five minutes later...
"Maybe they forgot and are on their way here; let's wait ten more minutes..." he reassured himself, but the lingering doubt lingered in his mind. He glanced around, hoping to see a familiar face or a flash of a car approaching.
Ten minutes later, already sweating profusely under the hot sun, he realized that no one would come to pick him up. The reality hit him hard, and he felt a wave of irritation wash over him like the sun's relentless heat.
"Sigh, now I have to walk six miles," he muttered, feeling both exhausted and irritated. His thoughts spiraled, contemplating how he could have possibly been abandoned like this.
Turning, he picked up the pace, sometimes running, sometimes sprinting; at other times, he walked so slowly that even a four-year-old would have outpaced him. The heat made him feel weak, almost dizzy, and his legs ached with every step he took.
He drew gazes from passersby due to his soaked shirt and shorts, along with the worn slippers he wore. Who in their right mind wears slippers outside of the home? It was a somewhat humiliating situation, and he could feel the curious eyes boring into him as he trudged along the sidewalk.
After some time, he neared the house, the familiar structure coming into clearer view as he approached. The large gates seemed to loom as if mocking him for the choice he had made to leave the hospital on foot.
"Pant... pant... ha pant..." he gasped, forcing his heavy legs to carry him closer to the gates, which were already in sight. As he drew near, he noticed some boxes by the gates but paid them no mind.
Finally, struggling his way up to the gates, he rang the bell, expecting a warm reply.
"..." No answer. Silence hung between the gates and him as though the very air had thickened.
He rang it again, desperation clawing at him.
"....." An even longer silence met his ears this time, amplifying the unease he felt inside.
Angry, he punched the bell. "Is this fucking bell broken?" The frustration seeped into his voice, but he knew it was futile.
Suddenly, a loud engine roared behind him.
Turning, he saw a sleek sports car speeding toward him, coming to a stop right in front of him. The occupant was familiar
Aunty! It was his Aunt Miranda!
Excited, he waved and knocked on the transparent glass, straining to get her attention, but to no avail....no answer. His heart sank as he watched her face, calm and composed behind the wheel, as if everything was perfectly normal to her.
The gates opened, revealing the driveway that led into the lavish estate. She drove in and stopped briefly by the security post before accelerating toward the main house.
The gates closed behind her with a solid thud, leaving Trevor in muted shock. A guard came out, his face expressionless as he approached.
"Sir, Mrs. Miranda instructed me to inform you that, effective immediately, as of three days ago, you have been stripped of the Wiston family name and disowned. You are never to return. Your belongings have been sorted out in those boxes," the guard said, pointing at the boxes he had seen and ignored earlier.
Speechless and dumbfounded described Trevor's state at that moment, as if the world had blurred into a haze around him, disconnected from reality.
Caring little about Trevor, the guard returned inside, shutting the gates behind him with a finality that echoed in Trevor's chest.
"Wha... what... h... how could they do that?" He managed to stammer, his heart pounding erratically against his ribs, a prisoner in this nightmare.
"Wait, please! Can I at least see them?" Trevor banged on the gate frantically, desperation written all over his face. "We can talk this out... I didn't kill them... please believe me! I wouldn't do such a thing... please!" His voice cracked, the weight of his words hanging in the air untouched.
Tears clouded his vision, blurring his surroundings. Choking back his tears, he couldn't let them fall and give them the satisfaction they derived from his misery. He wanted to scream that he was innocent, that he didn't deserve this torment.
He continued banging on the gate for hours, calling out for his uncle, his family, and his grandparents, each name tasting like ash in his mouth. He didn't want to be kicked out; he barely had any savings and no place to stay. Each moment dragged on, the sun slowly dipping below the horizon, casting a warm reddish glow that only served to highlight his isolation.
After several hours, his voice was hoarse from overuse. He realized they were done with him for good. Dragging his weary body over to the boxes, he looked through them to see what was inside.
Some clothes, underwear, documents, and his phone, among other miscellaneous items. He felt a pang of loss as he went through what he once considered the essence of his life; now it all felt like scattered remnants of a shattered world.
Taking out his phone, he noticed the screen was cracked. "Probably when I dropped it last night," he said, his voice sounding as if he hadn't had water to drink for the past day. A dry laugh escaped him at the absurdity of it all. The irony was not lost on him...the tool that would connect him to the outside world was useless unless someone could pull it back from the depths of despair.
Aimlessly going through his belongings, he contemplated his next move. Since he had been forsaken, there was no use crying over spilled milk. It was better to use that same energy to figure out what to do next.
"…I still have some savings. I'll probably find a motel for the night… and rest," he murmured to himself, though even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "I'll think about tomorrow, tomorrow." Each syllable felt like a promise he was unsure he could keep.
"Sigh, from the son of multimillionaire parents to struggling to find a place to stay," he chuckled darkly. "Life really has a way of tossing things at you." The fill of laughter felt hollow amidst the overwhelming weight of desolation.
"Mom…" A stray tear ran down his face at the thought of everything that had transpired, but he quickly wiped it away. "Brooding over that now won't solve anything." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he shifted through the boxes.
Just as he was about to give in to his thoughts, a sound interrupted the quiet melancholy surrounding him.
Ring! Ring!
His phone rang in his pocket, startling him from his reverie. Taking it out, he noticed it was an unknown number calling him. After contemplating for a moment, he hit the green button, curiosity overriding his caution.
"Hello, who is this?" he asked, bracing himself for whatever news would greet him on the other end.
"Good evening, Mr. Trevor. This is Doctor Clark. Obviously, we have met," a voice spoke from the other end in a less-than-pleasant tone.
He recognized the voice; it was the senior doctor who had been responsible for his care and had led his family in, and he had always had quite a good opinion of him despite the brusque manner.
"Yes, Doctor Clark. What can I do for you?" Trevor inquired, a knot of anxiety tangling in his chest, unsure whether this would bring him clarity or further despair.
Before he could finish, the doctor's voice cut through his words like a sharp knife.
"You have until the end of the month to settle your hospital debt. The fee is $10,000!"
Trevor's heart sunk.
But the the doctor continued unbothered " if you fail to comply, we will have to involve the police.."
I quickly interrupted him "Hahaha of course Doctor Clark I will settle the outstanding no need to go that far hahaha"
"Hump you better" he snorted and hung up
Sigh! My uncle really wants to destroy me completely
Fuck! And another headache to worry about. My uncle certainly didn't leave me a way out chuckle"
Glancing back at the mansion, my gaze subconsciously moved towards the plaque, and I didn't see my name
"Guess they scratched off that too, uhhh," I said in self-mockery. I have hard enough of the day couldn't let another make it worse.....
.....
The shuttle of trevour grew further and further, his back lonely and desolate, a lonely culb trying to survive in the midst of ice-hearted bloody wolves
Will Trevor break and succumb to the pressure or, like a Phoenix, use his situation to reforge himself and rise higher....?