"...the sea level was detected to have risen five centimetres, along with prolonged rainfall in the region. Meteorologists suggest the approach of a storm to Harbourview City, expected within the next week..."
Professor Mortonne laid back in his chair, too tired to lift a finger; the sun had just begun to set, sinking beneath the cityscape. The honking of cars rushing to go home after a day of work and the whirring of his computer textured the air. The distant squawking of seagulls spoke through the distant sea, accompanied by the faint radio crackling past the silence.
"Beep...beep...beep..."
The electric clock on the wall greeted him - [2021/01/12 6:25 pm]
The professor stood up to stretch, his stiff skeleton cracked with each movement. Picking up his mug, he inhaled all the liquid in it in one go. A relieved sigh was all that came out of his mouth.
"Weather's gettin' weird these days, huh?" He mumbled to himself as he got into his red Mazda, which flowed along the river of traffic.
"...there has been a lot of fog present in Harbourview Bay, the government sends a reminder to never leave the dock without a proper line of sight. Again, please be careful when sailing..."
"Bad time to be studying oceanography, I guess!" Professor Mortonne chuckled at his luck.
[2021/01/12 7:00 pm]
The world closed its eyes as the sun set beneath the horizon. A red Mazda pulled over in front of the Harbourview Hospital, Mortonne hurried inside with his bag full of documents. The metropolis began to light up as the night took its grasp on the city. The stars began to turn on, neon signs flickered in the crevices between each building as people prepared for the nightlife, painting the alleyways and streets like stars the gods had spilled over the streets - a city that never sleeps, as most call it, Harbourview.
[2021/01/12 7:05 pm]
The door of the hospital room gently swung open, and a pale little girl laid in the bed, entangled in medical devices. A faint beeping monitors her vital signs, an IV drip pierced her left arm, pumping a much-needed supply of blood.
"Dad!" Her starry eyes lit up as Mortonne made his way clumsily through the minefield of devices. "Are you here to bring a cake for me? It's my birthday today, you remember?" She cheered excitedly.
"Oh, it is...? Sweetheart...Sophie...I'm sorry...I promise I'll bring a cake tomorrow. There's just...too much on my mind lately, y'know?" Mortonne ruffled her hair gently, feeling a dryness in his eyes.
The girl shook his head, a wide smile contrasted with the paleness. "It's okay! I'm happy as long as you visit me, Dad! It gets lonely in the hospital alone, like really, really lonely. But the nurse is nice, though. She made me steak for my birthday today! Doesn't taste as nice as mom's...but it was still AWESOME!"
"Does your arm hurt still?"
"A little bit...but it's been getting better! But that's not important, Dad! You promised to tutor me last week, remember? Like...teach me what the other kids learn in school! I wonder what it's like in school...probably would be so awesome! When can I ever go to school?"
Mortonne shook slightly; the dryness in his eyes was becoming unbearable. But he dared not cry in front of his beloved daughter - to others, he may be a genius, but to her, he was a dad, and the only family she had.
"Very soon...sweetie, very soon. Dad promises you. You'll be able to make friends in school, a lot of friends, you could even have a birthday party...anything you want..."
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Sophie's eyes were practically glowing; Mortonne could almost see the stars in her eyes.
Knock Knock
"Professor Mortonne! I would like to have a word with you, regarding your daughter."
The doctor came in with a man in a black suit, white hair covered his head, and a pair of glasses hung like a necklace on his neck.
"O-Of course!"
Mortonne followed out of the room, trembling slightly.
"So...how is her condition...?"
The doctor sighed, shaking his head.
"That's exactly what Mr.Loid is here to talk to you about."
The white haired man came forward.
"Pleasure to meet you, Professor, a fan of your research, really."
The man extended his hand for a shake, which Mortonne shook politely.
"I'm Loid from Serenity Funeral Homes, and regarding your daughter, her condition has entered a phase where it is becoming increasingly unpredictable, to the point where the worst could happen at any minute. I'm...just here to let you know that perhaps, it is time to plan forward."
The doctor also stepped forward, placing his hand on Mortonne's shuddering shoulder.
"Mortonne, it must be really hard for you. Perhaps it is time to consider taking her home for further treatments. If you...understand me."
"Is there really...nothing to be done? Nothing?"
"We've tried our best, Professor. But it is unrealistic for us to try to combat such a rare sickness, one that has never been seen before." The doctor patted Mortonne's back. "Buy her a cake, will you? It's all the poor girl's been talking about. We'll give you some time and space now."
"Take it easy, Mortonne. Take it easy."
"Thanks, Doctor, for all you've tried. I meant it. I really do."
"And you, Mr Loid. You too. Hopefully you won't be getting my phone call." Mortonne forced a chuckle.
"I'm...just gonna have a smoke up the rooftop."
The moon hung onto the clouds, almost grimly. The sparkling city didn't care, though, of course it didn't; it never cared for anything other than big companies and fireworks. Up on the rooftop stood a man in his forties, taking a drag out of a cigarette as he watched the churning cars beneath. The chuckles of a little girl rang like bells as a family of three drove into the park next to the hospital, joyful and united. But the laugh sounded sour; it sounded cruel.
Like the world was mocking him.
The last time someone mocked Mortonne was in high school, when he confessed to his love and got made fun of. He fought back, won a Nobel prize, a world record and the heart of the woman he loved. But this time, he hung his head low and prayed. Cowering under the weight. Cowering because it was something he couldn't lose - his daughter.
"God...if you're listening, please...please save her. She deserves it more than anyone. Don't take her from me, I'm begging you...I'm begging with all my heart. Answer me, god! ANSWER ME! Let me take her place! When I open my eyes...please tell me I'm the one lying in the bed, not her!"
The noise of traffic must've drowned out his voice. When he opened his eyes, he was still on that rooftop. The world didn't listen; it wouldn't listen. God covered his mouth and laughed at his futility.
"If only...if only Adrian were here. He could cure my daughter, I just know it. I just...know it. He never had to try to achieve anything. But me?" Mortonne shook his head bitterly, and the wind slapped him. "I always had to try so hard. It's like the world favoured that bastard more. Where did that guy go off to...where!"
Mortonne hung his head, buried it in his arms.
"What would Adrian do if he were me...what would he have done? Oh God, Adrian...I need your help..."
The elevator ride to Sophie's room was quiet. More quiet than it should have been. Professor Mortonne stopped outside his daughter's room, managing his composure, making sure that Sophie could never tell that he was crying.
Ring~ Ring~
A telephone rang faintly inside the hospital room. It was an old, vintage phone. The logo of a black seashell lodged on its side.
"Sweetheart, what are you...playing with?"
"Oh...this? A man wearing a suit came in and gave it to me just then. He looked super cool! Like the people in movies."
Sophie bit her fingernails as she started recalling.
"He also said you needed to call this number."
[+12 1212121212]
It was written in a scrunched-up piece of paper, clearly torn from a notebook. Again, a faint black seashell was present in the corner of the page.
"Weird. Could it have been Loid? But why would he give a vintage phone to my daughter?"
"And this number...it's just made of ones and twos..."
Mortonne entered the number reluctantly. And as soon as he lifted his fingers off the rusted buttons, the phone picked up.
But the other end was silent.
"Hello, this is Professor Mortonne calling from Harbourview Hospital."
...
...
...
"Hello, my name is Elysande. Are you calling to order a cake?"
...
...
...
"Sophie, what kind of cake would you like?"
Sophie bit her fingernails as she stared out the window in a trance. An artificial star flickered down the canopy of glitter. The city light dimmed under the moon,
[2021/01/13 12:12 am]
...
...
...
"I want a cake that tastes like a shooting star, falling from the peak of the sky until it burns out, until the ocean catches it in its hands. Like a thread connecting two worlds, one that fate could dance on. Because...because..."
"Sophie? What on earth are you saying? Sophie?"
And the girl fell asleep. Peacefully, almost like the sickness never bothered her. All that's left in the room is the crackling of the telephone, the steady, constant beeping of the machine, and the confused Mortonne.
"Elysande?"
...
...
...
"Yes?"
"Can I have a cake that tastes like a shooting star, falling from the sky to the ocean. Like a thread connecting two worlds, so fate could dance on it?"
...
...
...
"Good choice, coming right up. Where would you like it delivered?"
[2021/01/13 7:42 am]
"Mr Mortonne?"
