Chapter Five: Madonna Hospital

—Gina

Givia was never a sickle cell patient. She was healthy and fine. My father had the AS genotype, while my mother had SS. Consequently, I inherited the SS genotype, and my sister took after my father with an AS genotype. Sickle cell anemia plagued me and necessitated frequent hospital visits, just like my mother's regular visits before she passed away.

"Sister, did you take your medication today?" Givia asked, concerned. I checked and realized I hadn't taken my drugs for the day. I sighed, expressing my frustration and weariness with the constant need for medication. Living my entire life relying on injections and drugs seemed daunting. It wasn't something I enjoyed. I adjusted my pillow and laid down on the bed.

"For the sake of your health, please take your medication. You're the only sister I have, the most precious thing in my life," my sister pleaded. I smiled, got up from the bed, took my drugs, and returned to sleep. As I drifted off, I started dreaming about Michael.

In my dream, Michael and I were alone in a room. He held my hands and gently kissed me. At first, I resisted returning the kiss, but when he pulled me closer and continued kissing me, I couldn't help but respond. I held him tightly and pushed him onto the bed. Climbing on top of him, we shared passionate kisses, and I guided his hands to my breasts. The intensity of the moment heightened, and I became consumed by the desire for intimacy.

As Michael began removing his clothes, my sister's voice suddenly jolted me awake from the dream.

"You were rubbing your hands on your breasts and calling out Michael. Who is Michael?" my sister inquired. I assured her it was just a dream, claiming not to know who Michael was. I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower. While in the bathroom, I realized that I was already wet down there. "What the fuck! How did this happen?" I quickly finished bathing and left the bathroom.

The memory of my father abandoning my mother for another woman pained me deeply. My mother suffered until her death. Everything began on the day my father brought Carolina back from Liberia after his peacekeeping mission. Carolina despised us and held a strong animosity towards my mother. In her quest to inherit my father's meager property, she once poisoned my mother's food, hoping she would die.

Carolina never bore any children of her own, but she still desired my father's possessions. She believed that by killing my mother, she could claim his property. I despised her greatly, and even after my mother's death, when we grew up under Carolina's care, she continued to be cruel and vindictive. She would beat us daily and send us to fetch water from the outside borehole. She was a mean and dangerous woman capable of any malicious act.

"I'm going out to collect my remaining injections," I informed Givia. I prepared myself, dressed beautifully, and hailed a taxi to Madonna Hospital. During the taxi ride, I resolved to put anything related to Michael out of my mind. I couldn't afford to think about anyone or anything anymore. I had already decided not to pursue love, considering my precarious health as a sickle cell anemia patient. It was best to let go of whatever transpired between me and Michael at the beach.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I inquired about Doctor Loveth and was directed to her office. I found her there, smiling as she noticed me looking a bit stronger.

"Gina, how are you today? You look beautiful, and it seems like you're gradually getting better," she greeted me warmly. I smiled and took a seat. We discussed my health condition and the necessary steps to improve it. It wasn't my fault that I had sickle cell anemia. I collected my injections and drugs, prepared to leave, and walked out to find the taxi driver who brought me there, but then I bumped into Michael.

"Who are you?" I asked, pretending not to recognize him, even though I knew it was him. I needed to sever ties with him, so I played ignorant. He introduced himself, and I continued to feign ignorance. This clearly annoyed him, especially when I mentioned that I was leaving and my taxi driver was waiting for me. As I walked toward the taxi, he grabbed my hand, pulling me closer until my body was against his chest. In that moment, I impulsively slapped him and entered the taxi.

As I sat in the taxi, reflecting on the incident, I wondered how it all unfolded. Michael had brought his mother to the hospital for a check-up because she was experiencing leg pain. When we crossed paths outside, he had some things for his mother, who was still inside the hospital. Michael didn't give up; he left his mother behind and followed my taxi.

Michael followed my taxi to the house. I never knew he was following us. When I reached home, my twin sister wasn't there, so I entered and relaxed my mind a little. Then I recaptured what had actually happened.

"How could this guy hold my hands in public? Why would I even see him again, and what does he want?" I asked myself.

The whole scenario, from the beach kiss to how I had kissed him, returned to my memory. I started blaming myself for going to the beach that day. Even though I enjoyed the kiss and I would really love to have him around me, I couldn't forget that as a sickle cell anemia patient, I could die anytime. If I made up my mind to love him, then I would be wasting my time and deceiving him. There's no love for someone who's half dead already. As I pondered these thoughts, I realized I hadn't locked my door when I entered because I was so tired and frustrated. The next thing I heard inside the room was Michael's voice.

"Hello, Gina! We've met again?" Michael said.

I was speechless. I didn't know what to say or do. How did he know my name and even find my house? I didn't remember telling him my name before. So, how was it possible for him to know?

"Okay, I remember now. I told him my name at the beach. Fuck! Why did I even tell him my name?" I asked myself.

But even so, he shouldn't have known where I lived. He must have followed our taxi when I left the hospital. Isn't he tired of the slaps and humiliation from me? I wondered. Entering my house without permission was wrong. Maybe he's a rapist or a womanizer. I thought about that. Well, whatever he is, I'll definitely show him that I'm still strong. Besides, I'm a strong woman. Love can't weaken me. He should also understand that I'm trying to protect him from heartbreaks. Even if I love him, he won't enjoy the love story. He better let me live my life.

I composed myself and didn't say anything. I was watching to see what Michael would do next. I'll teach him a lesson since he claimed to be stubborn. The sound of a slap in his ears would make him listen. All these jerks pretending to be good people, ruining someone's life and leaving them alone. At that moment, Michael's voice brought me back to reality. He moved closer to me, held my hands, and was about to kiss me before I pushed him away.

"Get out of my house, idiot!" I yelled at Michael.

He was speechless and he didn't know what to do. He looked at me from the top to the bottom, smiled and decided to take his leave.