At 10 AM the Conwoods were at the hospital in Dr. Mason’s office. Peel sat down on the examining bed as her parents sat on the chair across his desk. He was standing in front of her checking her blood pressure and pulse rate.
“How do you feel now Miss Peel?”
“Okay you can take a seat.”
Peel took a seat beside her father.
“Peel there is something you need to know.” Dr. Mason paused before he continued,
“You have a mental disorder where your brain tricks you into believing in things that does not exist.”
Peel tilted her face up looking into Dr. Mason’s eyes. Her countenance was a conflate of exhaustion and sorrowfulness.
“We need to put you on medication and therapy, with proper treatment you can live a normal life just like any of us!”
A normal life like any of them? Peel thought what this normal life was and how people lived it. Was it the way her mother lived? With elegance and poise showing the world the immaculate side of her unhappy life or was it the way her father did? Being avaricious and devouring in the impolitic. She wanted to scoff but instead she sat down quietly.
“We will take her with us to New York tomorrow she will be treated there.” Mr. Conwood said with his face rigid.
“New York? Tomorrow?” Peel confounded.
“Yes dear, your father and I have decided you will be coming back to USA with us.” Mrs. Conwood replied.
Mr. Mason held Peel’s hand pressing it gently,
“I know you are confused dear but things will get better soon.”
They were quiet on their way home. Mr. Conwood made few phone calls confirming their bookings. They had their flight at 10:15 AM the next day.
They never ask! They just never do! The world is a symphony playing in their heads and they just move by its rhythm. Things were better with Logan, they are the ones confused. Confused that the way they live is normal! Every day they wake up pretending to be thousands of different characters to conform. Forgetting who they were in the first place, what they wanted, why they wanted and then they flow with the tide of the moment. I might be delusional but at least I am not pretentious.
The next morning they were headed to the airport with three bodyguards. Peel sat down on the jeep wrangler quietly as her mother brushed her hand. She stared out the window. The majestic greens and blues of nature were alluring. The sky reminded her of Owen’s ocean blue eyes. The day they made love when she was wrapped around his arms, she laid beside him gawking at those eyes trying to comprehend the shade of blue. His black pupils were like a storm in the ocean in an inky black night. He was circling his fingers around the areola of her bare breast asking her what she was looking at. “Blue! It should be blue. Owen Blue” she had replied.