Chapter 3: Prologue Part 3

“Aaahhh-haaaa!” I let out a huge yawn as I woke up from... from? Where am I?

My gaze drifted across the light blue expanse of the ceilings and walls, the soft hum of machinery filling the air alongside the faint scent of antiseptic. Turning, I spotted a window adorned with delicate lavender flowers, contrasting vibrantly against the sterile room. Unsure of my location, I glanced down to find myself in a white hospital gown, my feet exposed and restrained by a thin tube leading to a transparent bag of liquid. Questions swirled in my mind as I grappled with the unfamiliarity of my surroundings and the unsettling presence of medical apparatus, leaving me feeling disoriented and apprehensive.

Suddenly, the door opened. I tensed up. Were they the ones who captured me and put me in this position? Although I wasn't chained or restricted and felt fine, kind of healthy, I guess.

A young girl with radiant brown hair and hazel eyes walked in, wearing what seemed like a uniform along with a backpack. Instantly, her hazel eyes met mine, and she dropped her bag, tears welling up in her eyes. Did I scare her? No, that expression on her face isn't fear; although there were tears, she looked more joyful.

"GRANDPA!" she burst out, the word echoing through the room.

Grandpa? Me?

“You had me scared, Grandpa. It’s been three days since you collapsed, and you haven't woken up since then. But it’s fine because while you were resting, I’ve cleaned the house every day and practiced cooking meals so that when you wake up, you can try a whole bunch of meals! Obviously, I won’t be able to match up to Grandma’s cooking, but I’m sure my cooking can come close! And also I’ve—”

“Sorry? But who are you?”

As I uttered those words, the young girl’s eyes widened with shock, her jaw dropping in utter disbelief.

“You’re kidding me? It’s me, Celine. Your granddaughter,” the young girl said, clenching her fists and biting her bottom lip, trying hard to hide her frustration.

“Celine? I’m sorry, but I don’t know Celine. I think you've got the wrong person,” I replied genuinely, in a polite manner.

“BULLSHIT!” The young girl stomped her foot on the ground, a mix of anger and sadness evident in her demeanor. “Yes, you do know who I am! I’m your granddaughter! Your only granddaughter! Grandpa, if this is a prank, then please stop because this isn’t funny! I’ve just lost grandma, I can’t lose you too!” Her voice wavered as she clutched her chest, the turmoil evident on her face.

Damn it. How did I even get into this situation? But I also don’t want to make a little girl cry. You know what, let’s just go along with this charade. “Ah! Yes! I remember! Hahaha! I knew I couldn’t fool you, Celine!” I replied, forcing enthusiasm and plastering a smile on my face.

Relief washed over the young girl as she crouched down, sweat dripping from her forehead. “Don’t play with me like that, Grandpa,” she pleaded.

“Yeah, sorry,” I muttered, feeling guilty for perpetuating the lie. She mentioned earlier that she lost her grandmother recently, so that’s good info to know.

Suddenly, a man in a white coat, with a shirt and tie underneath, entered the room, carrying a clipboard. “Oh, you’re awake! I was just about to tell your granddaughter about your updated medical reports we’ve just gotten back, but first, I’m sure you’re still impacted by Celine’s death.”

“What are you talking about? Celine is right in front of me,” I scoffed at the doctor’s mistake. But the doctor seemed expectant, as if he knew what I was going to say, which confused me. When I turned to Celine, her eyes were beginning to dilate, losing their color.

“Hey, Celine, what’s wrong—”

“You lied,” she uttered.

“Huh? Lied?” I replied, feeling nervous.

“You don’t remember. You’ve really forgotten,” she muttered.

“What are you talking about? Didn’t I just say I was pranking—”

“You’ve forgotten that it was you who named me after Grandma.”

Shit. I messed up. Now she’s going to start crying and shouting, and she might even kill me. I need to prepare for it now.

Suddenly, the young girl began to inhale, then slowly exhale. The anger and rage that I thought she was going to release didn’t happen. Instead, her eyes lost the light they had when she first saw me wake up. They were now cold and blank, her whole demeanor shifting into an empty and hollow state.

“I can’t be bothered anymore,” she uttered.

"Huh? What are you saying?" I replied, confusion evident in my voice.

"You promised that you’d stick by my side, that you'd listen and attend to my injuries every time I come home, that you'd stand against the world for my sake, fighting for me... you promised... but what does that all matter now?" the young girl said, her tone dark and demotivated.

I felt guilty, but at the same time, wasn't I also the victim in this too? It's not my fault.

"Sorry to interrupt, but since your grandfather isn’t well enough, is it possible I could also share the medical report with you, Celine?" the doctor asked.

"Nah, I don’t care anymore. I’m going home, but if you really want to tell me, the hospital has my number. Just text it to me," the young girl said as she started strolling out of the room.

For some reason, my body screamed at me not to let her go. It gave me the feeling that if she walked away now, I'd never see her again. But honestly, I didn't know who this young girl was!

"Wait! Hold on! Are you really just going to leave your old, wrinkly grandpa here alone?" I said nervously, chuckling as I scratched the back of my grey hair.

"My grandpa is dead. You're just a stranger in his body."

Her cold words pierced my soul. No tears came out of my eyes, but I could feel my body crying in regret and pain.

"I know you’ve been having a rough time, but there’s also some news I need to share with you," the doctor spoke.

"I want to hear the good news first," I said, mentally exhausted, staring at the ceiling.

"Um, there’s no good news," the doctor replied.

"For goodness sake! What’s the bad news then? Get on with it!" I said angrily.

"The bad news is that we’ve done some running checks on your body for the past three days and we've analyzed and identified a growing tumor in your brain. It’s already taken effect, which is one of the symptoms of this memory loss you’re experiencing right now," the doctor said.

"Well, if you've found it, then take it out!" I said, my temper steadily increasing.

"That’s the thing. If we attempt the surgery, there’s a low probability rate you'll survive," the doctor said.

"How low?" I asked.

"The probability rate is 3%."

"So there’s a 97% chance that this surgery can kill me, is that what you’re saying?" I asked to clarify.

"Logically, yes," the doctor said.

"So you did start with the good news first then," I replied.

"What are you talking about?" The doctor's eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

“You could’ve told me first that the surgery has a 97% chance of killing me, but instead, you told me first that the survivability rate is 3%, so I thank you,” I said.

“But isn’t it the same thing?” the doctor asked.

“No, because maybe if you had told me the high chance it’ll kill me first, I would’ve given up completely, maybe not even wanting to hear anything else. But because you told me the chance I could survive first, that means there’s hope. It may be small, but it'd be a waste to not fight for it,” I explained.

The doctor chuckled, finally understanding what I was trying to say.

“You’re a strange man, but since you want to undertake the surgery, it’ll happen three months from now.”

Hours later, night had fallen, and I found myself gazing into the abyss of the ceiling as the moonlight streamed through my window. Maybe I wasn’t scared to take the surgery because I had no attachments to this world. Like what that young girl said, I'm just a soul in another man’s body.

Out of the blue, my room door opened, and the young girl entered.

“You came back?” I asked.

“I left my school bag,” she replied without giving me eye contact. Maybe it hurts to look at the person you love and realize it’s not really them.

“Even at this late hour? Don’t you have school tomorrow?” I asked.

“How else am I going to get ready for school if I don’t have the things I need for it, since it’s inside my bag that I left here?” she retorted with a sassy attitude, again avoiding eye contact.

“Why won’t you look me in the eye?” I asked, already knowing the answer, which caught her off guard as we momentarily locked eyes before she looked away.

Now that I think about it, her clothes looked rough, and she had bruises on her face. Dear God, I hope I wasn’t an abusive grandparent.

“What happened to your face?” I asked.

“Nothing, just got into a fight,” she replied abruptly.

“Did you win?” I asked, concern evident in my voice.

“Is that relevant? I said I got into a fight, so leave me alone!” the young girl snapped.

“You say I should leave you alone, but you’ve gotten your bag a long time ago, yet you still insist on staying her replying to me. Why?”

Again, the young girl flinched, caught off guard by the question.

“So I’m going to ask you again, did you win?” I pressed.

“It was three against one. Of course, I lost,” the young girl revealed, her embarrassment evident.

“What do you mean, of course? You’re telling me you can’t handle more than one person? Don’t you have any friends who can help you?” I inquired.

“I have one friend, but she’s also going through her own share of troubles, so I couldn’t ask her,” she explained.

“Well, if that was me, I could’ve whooped their asses even if it was three against one. I guess this grandpa of yours didn’t raise you properly,” I teased.

In an instant, the young girl hurled her bag at me with incredible force, crushing my face and causing a nosebleed.

“DON’T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY GRANDPA, YOU PHONY!” Tears welled up in her eyes as she gritted her teeth, glaring at me fiercely.

“Wow! So you’re telling me you can make an old man who’s quadruple your age bleed, but you struggled with three against one. So you had to be holding back, right?” I said, impressed with her strength as I covered my nose with my hand.

“Huh?” the young girl said, perplexed.

This next thing I’m going to say might be scummy, but...

“Celine, listen to your grandpa and come to me,” I said, gesturing for her to approach.

Veins began to bulge around her face, showcasing the hatred she harbored for me.

“You’re messed up! Absolutely messed up,” she spat venomously.

“So first you make your poor grandpa bleed, and now you disobey his order. I don’t think you loved him enough,” I provoked.

The young girl’s pupils dilated with rage as her radiant brown hair seemed to flare up, and her arms tensed as if she wanted to throw a punch. But even under all that rage, she decided to slowly approach me. As she got closer and stood beside me, I asked her to crouch low, which she did begrudgingly. It was clear that this girl loved her grandpa deeply. And to reward her...

“You may have lost today, but next time, show them the strength that was even able to make my nose bleed,” I said gently, patting her head with a warm smile.

“What the-” the young girl was taken aback, not expecting this response, but she seemed to lean into the warmth of her grandpa that she had missed.

“You’re not the only one fighting; I also have my own fight,” I told her.

“Your fight?” She asked, intrigued.

"Yep, the doctor just informed me that I’ve got some brain tumor and the surgery will give me a 3% chance to survive," I told her.

"Huh? But that’s a 97% chance you’ll die," the young girl said, her concern evident.

"Yeah, but that also means a 3% chance I’ll survive!" I replied optimistically.

"But that’s a small chance," she said.

"That I’m willing to fight for, or I’ll just waste it, right?" I said to her.

In that moment, even if it was just for a second, there was a tiny spark of light in her eyes.

"Let’s make a promise to each other, that we both win our battles. You beat those three girls, and I beat this brain tumor. We can be the ultimate duo: I’m the hero, and you can be my sidekick! How’s that sound?"

The young girl began to chuckle to herself, which I found perplexing. Don’t kids her age like superheroes and stuff, or maybe it's because she’s a girl.

“Did I say something funny?” I asked.

“My grandpa said something similar, that I’m ‘Bat-granddaughter and he’s Albert.’”

“Bat-the-what now? And who the hell is Albert?” I said, utterly confused.

The young girl continued to giggle, and I decided to let go of the question. It seems my body, which was crying in anguish earlier, now feels a lot more relaxed knowing she's in good hands.

“It’s weird, I know you're not my same grandpa, but you have the same vibe as him,” the young girl said.

“Well, duh! I am in his body, I guess, or I am him but just forgotten everything, or I’m... argh! Even I’m confused,” I said, frustrated.

“I just wish, just like grandma, I could’ve said my last words to grandpa,” the young girl said, her sadness returning.

“No worries, I can still tell him for you,” I said confidently.

“Huh? How? He’s gone,” the young girl said.

“Gone? Is that how you see it?” I said.

“But the doctor sent me a text message of your medical report, and you have memory loss,” she replied.

“Yeah, and how long did he say the memory loss lasts? I didn’t hear him say forever, right?” I said.

“But—”

“But what? All he said is the symptoms include memory loss, which means it can last until tomorrow, maybe or probably next week, month, year, or even a second. We can’t give up, right?” I said cheerfully, smiling at her as I rested my arms behind my head.

“So you’re saying grandpa isn’t gone but he can still come back?” the young girl said as the color returned to her eyes.

“Gone isn't the right word; let’s just say he’s taking a rest, and he tagged me in to help out. So until he’s ready to come back, I’m just gonna have to look after you, capiche?”

The young girl suddenly jumped onto me and embraced me with a hug, something I’ve never experienced before.

“Then the first thing I want you to tell grandpa is that I love him! And I’m waiting for his return! And I’ll wait no matter how long it takes, even if I get married or have children, I’ll wait, even if I turn old and wrinkly myself, I’ll still wait for him,” she poured out her heart as she cried on my shoulder.

“No problemo, kiddo! I'll relay that to him.”

Ya hear that, body? This girl is waiting for you, and grandpa is sure lucky to have someone love him this much. To be honest, I didn’t have to, but I thought I might as well take on this role to encourage and help this girl because why not? Like I said before, I've got no attachments in this world, and it does feel great to do something good.