20 soft feelings.

It reminds her of a time where a similar event occurred. It was 9 on a Saturday morning. They were calling Emily down for quite some time for breakfast to receive no answer. Volunteering to check on their daughter, she walked to her room to knock a couple of times to once again, to be met with silence. Twisting the knob, pushing the door open, she wasn't met with a silhouette lying down on the bed like what she had in her head. Instead, a small figure can be found curling herself up in a terrified and defensive demeanor in the corner of the room.

"Emily?" she called. No answer was given. She walked further into the room, taking it slow and calm with each step. The closer she got, silent sobs reached her ears, making it clear that someone is in complete distress. She is hugging her knees tightly yet loose, alarmed but tired. Her hair is unkempt, as if she has been pulling her hair all night long.

Slowly, she bent her knees to her daughter's level, hand calmly stretching before landing softly as she gently caress Emily's head. Her silent sobs can still be heard and she can feel her heart evidently shattered inside of her. However, that feeling is quickly pushed away as her motherly instinct is focused on soothing her child.

Focused on the calm and steady motion of stroking the daughter's head, the muscle of her daughter is let loose, even her hands that were hugging her knees which kept her in balance is barely holding on to each other now. "That's it, that's it."

Have been some time since her being in the room, the thought of her husband who was waiting for the both of them downstairs rush through her head. She turned her head to the door to find that her husband is already standing at the door, a phone being held in his right hand. Both of them communicate through their eyes as her husband nods, confirming that he has already called an ambulance.

However, that incident was not to compare to when Emily was nowhere to be found in the house. It wasn't hard for them to guess Emily's whereabouts.

She was at that tree. Again.

As the mother gets lost in her thoughts, a sudden flash of the red traffic light from the corner of her eyes snaps her out of the memories that were storming in. The car comes to an abrupt stop as she promptly steps on the break causing her body to jerk forward from the sudden force. Her heart loudly thumps in her chest from the sudden and fast incident. Her eyelids flutters as unnoticed tears that were building in her eyes finally escape, sliding to her cheeks. Thankfully, the road is almost empty as always, with only some cars and bicyclists passing by.

Noticing her unstable breath, she manually breathes as she takes in the oxygen slowly and mindfully, exhaling through her mouth. Feeling a warm substance that is by second turning cold, she wipes off the liquid from her cheek to instantly grasp that a few drops of tears have slipped out. Touching her eyes, she wipes off the remaining tears that were still holding themselves in her eyes.

"Gosh."

She didn't even realize her eyes was watering.

Getting herself back together, she begins to focus on the road again as the light turns into green, stepping on the paddle as she spins the steering to the right. Her journey in the car doesn't give her much space and time to accidentally dive into her thoughts as what happened to her is still fresh to be an effective reminder to be mindful while driving and since the house is only about two to three minutes away.

She stops right in front of the gate of her house for a second as she reaches for the gate controller, opening the gate, accessing the front yard of her house. Closing the gate using the same remote she used earlier, she parks the car on the hard brick path in front of the garage instead of parking the car inside of the garage.

Her visit to the house is supposed to be quick since she is just coming home to pick up her daughter's clothing.

~*~

The adolescent guy is stretching his shoulder before throwing a big sigh out of his mouth. Walking as his eyes look at the beautiful shady tree standing beside the pedestrian and in between the road, he takes in a deep filling breath. Fresh oxygen occupy the space in his lungs, making his eyes automatically shut by themselves, before opening once again to release the carbon dioxide into the air for the trees to turn it into oxygen once again.

He neither see Emily at school yesterday nor today. Nobody has an explanation for her absence except, of course, the teachers. Her classmate told him that the teacher did not ask if anybody knows the reason for her absence so that is quite a sign that the teacher already knows that she won't show up in class.

Ambling, Cameron looks to his right to find Liam, head down, eyes stuck on the pedestrian pavement they are walking on, at the same time lost in his own world. He has been like this since yesterday, the first day of Emily's absence since first they saw her at school.

He usually doesn't talk much with people but Cameron. When he is all alone with his best friend, he turn into a playful person who can actually produce a full conversation. But now, he is also quite quiet when they are hanging out or spending their time together. As if his mind is wandering off to somewhere else.

Liam doesn't express much of his feelings in front of other people and sometimes he can also be silent of his feelings with Cameron but Liam is a big softie inside. He secretly enjoy words of affirmation despite being known for his silent demeanor.

Despite having the infamous unreadable expression Liam is known for at school- not emotionless but at the same time not expressive, which makes him kind of intimidating if you just meet him- that doesn't stop Cameron from reading him like a book. He knows that on the inside, Liam is experiencing a whole contra from his expression.

Liam is also the type who silently shows his affection through actions. As the famous saying goes, "action speak louder than words." It suits Liam really well without a second thought. Yet, he melts at words of affirmations. By that I mean, words of affirmation by the right people.

He is clearly distracted by "something" although Cameron is completely sure is Emily.

Cameron hopes that by this visit Liam can chill down a little bit, even if they might or might not get to see or talk to Emily.

Step by step, seconds passing by minutes, Ryan's residency is right in front of their eyes. They open and push the smaller gate- that is placed on the left of the main gate- making their way to the main door of the more than decent, size home.

Both of them walk side by side until Liam fasten his pace, bringing him to be about inches forward from Cameron. A clear and transparent signal that this time, Liam wants to be the one who knocks on the door and does the talking.

The white and black shoe soles that were touching the tile that is submerged in the ground are now replaced with mini marble stairs. The deep brown door with fine details of the wood pattern is right in front of their face. Without hesitation, Liam stretches his hand out from his pocket, pushing the white doorbell for a few seconds before pulling his hand back away.

In a minute, footsteps are heard coming closer and closer towards the door from the inside. Cameron is standing leisurely but full of courtesy while Liam, who is standing a little bit further on his left is full of seriousness until it was pulled back by Liam himself, not wanting to pull a tight face in front of whoever might answer the door. The two teens' wait does not even extend to two minutes long when the sound of the doorknob being twisted and pushed open by the person inside.

The mother figure looks at the two adolescent boys in front of her with a hint of surprise.

"Liam? Cameron?"

~*~

The air ventilates through the room, filling every corner with the cool refreshing yet somniferous breeze. The chills come and hit her skin from all sorts of directions, thankful for the thick sleepy blanket falling, following the curves underneath, covering her eyes to the tip of her toes as the end of the blanket is folded in and tucked under her feet, keeping her body warm. Her head sunk into the pillow as her cheek is lightly sandwiched by the weight of her face and her hands that is resting under her head.

The sound of the air conditioner is the only thing that is keeping the room from falling into complete silence. The chair that was also occupied by the father figure is met with emptiness as now she is all alone in the room, lying on the hospital bed wordlessly.

Her eyes nonchalantly open themselves as her pupils try to adjust themselves to the light after falling into a deep sleep for more than 24 hours. The father figure sitting beside her was hit with a spark of surprise and joy, seeing a movement from her daughter who is finally awake. Standing up in response, he hit a button on the top of her bed for the purpose of calling the nurse who has told him to give them a call once his daughter is awake.

Looking down at his little girl, he put his hand on her head, caressing her. "Emily," he calls. However, the headache in her head is also quick to catch up as a throbbing sensation starts to kick in just as fast as her consciousness coming in.

Emily shut his eyes tight, not being able to process anything that is happening around her. The sound of the door opening is like an echo in her head, the light sound of footsteps coming closer and closer makes her feel nausea, all of the words and sentences are like mumbles that are impossible to decipher.

That ended up with Emily throwing up right in the spot where she was lying on. However, not consuming anything for a day and a few hours caused her to throw up nothing, which makes it more painful than the regular sensation and pain that comes with throwing up. Her organ was excruciatingly contracting itself tightly at a rapid pace from the inside, forcing her throat to intolerantly convulse to get whatever is left out of her body. But to be left with nothing, it felt as if the stomach was trying to rip itself off the body.

It took the nurses and Emily some time for her to get back into a normal physical state. The dad can only stand back and observe as the nurses advised him to let them handle it. It would be out of one's mind to say a parent is not affected watching their child being in an obvious state of torment and extreme discomfort.

After getting the vomiting issue out of the way, her body calms down as the nurse helps her to regain her composure, rubbing her back up and down in an easing way while the other nurse helps Emily to clean her face. There was saliva dripping out of her mouth because of the excessive retching as lines of red veins and tears left her eyes and staining her cheeks. She was a mess.

The father could not help but feel his heart torn.

Now, where the father might have gone to?

Her face once again can barely be seen as the blanket and pillow act as a sort of protection for her. The father figure sits quietly on the chair beside her bed. His hand is placed softly on top of his daughter's head, caressing gently and slowly, putting care and thoughtfulness with every motion.

Emily has changed drastically over the years.

He is reminded of the times when Emily was a baby. She was so small and fragile that the first time he held her, he could not help to feel a little anxious that brought him to be extremely cautious with his newborn daughter in his arms. His paternal instinct melt for her as his heart bloomed with this unfamiliar sense of joy taking over him. It feels like his life has changed. Drastically, just in a snap.

Over the years, she said her first word, her first commando crawl, the first time she crawl on her knees and palm until she learn how to stand and walk by herself, without having her little hands planting themselves tight to her mommy's or daddy's thumb. She said her first sentence, her first yes or no, her first "I love you."

His eyes fall soft and vulnerable.

Pictures of little Emily giggling merrily while her small feet trying her best to run away from her daddy who was trying to catch her ran through his mind. His daughter who used to love to sit on his lap and hug his daddy to fall asleep. His little daughter that would cry out of frustration and confusion of wanting to be carried by her mommy and daddy at the same time.

Where did it all go wrong?

Tears pool in his eyes, pressure builds up in his throat as he tries his best to keep all of these feelings to himself.

Despite everything that is silently happening inside of him, he consistently stroke her hair.

His head turns to his side, where a meal that was prepared for Emily remains untouched. They tried asking and getting her to eat, but through the whole process, she was unresponsive. The father turns his head once again to stare at his daughter. Just like now.

The nurse has already left, wanting to give Emily time and for her to eat at her own pace, when she feels more comfortable to.

She is in a state where she might feel defenseless. Forcing her will only make it worse.

The father figure also wants to give her time, however, his concern is only growing. He just saw her throwing up nothing because her stomach is fully empty. Even now, her body that is lying down on the bed is limp. She looks worn out and weak.

With a tender voice, he calls out her name, "Emily." He was not expecting any response and he was correct for not hoping for any kind of reaction. He continues as he pets his daughter, "how about I go out and buy some better food?" We all know how sometimes hospital food can taste a little bit bland and not as enjoyable as eating homemade or restaurant-bought food.

Despite the hospital food looking quite decent in his head, the main objective now is just to get her to eat something. Even if it is just a tidbit so her body can generate some energy.

"How about a steak and cheese sandwich? With every type of veggie with extra onions?"

Emily who has been acting deaf all of this time has always been listening. She is just not in a condition where she feels like cooperating with people although they have no other intention but to help her. However, the words uttered by her father just now knock her heart that is all in a sensitive state.

Without any effort, tears fill any empty space that remains, taking its spot. There has always been a lot of space and emptiness that is kept quiet and silent by Emily. Growing up, she was very close and affectionate towards her parents. But as time flies, they grew busy and busier, leaving Emily with nobody to share what her day was like, nobody to ask when she is dumbfounded on how to do her homework, no shoulder to cry on the bad days. Leaving Emily with no attention given by anyone. That way, it grew on her and she become quiet and reserved, not talking unless questions are thrown at her.

She no longer thinks about talking to someone about her day, she starts to read and study on her own so she can do her homework without needing help from anyone else, she holds in her feelings, not expressing her disatisfaction, her disappointment, her loneliness that she has been feeling for what it feels like years.

Yet this time, to have his dad remembering her favorite order hit the bottle of feelings that she has been holding inside. She hasn't tasted the taste of her favorite sandwich since they moved into this town. Tears that were storing themselves now fall on her cheeks. "Is that okay with you?" the father delicately asks as his hand never once stops its effort, gently committed to petting her head.

With another drop of a tear falling on her cheeks to wetting the pillow, she lightly nods.

A hint of pleasantly surprised expression is shown on his face, a small smile making its way on his lips as fast.

The small smile is quick to change into a bigger one as the father gave another few strokes on her head before uttering his words in glee. "I will go and get them then. Can you stay here on your own?" Sparks of joy light up in him as Emily gives him another timid nod.

"Okay then, wait for me," the father tenderly speak before giving a peck on Emily's temple. In minutes, Emily is left alone in the room.

She stares at the emptiness under the blanket as her mind is long gone, totally into her thoughts. The last time she saw the puppy boy was on Wednesday, at school. She wonders what he is up to.

What is he doing? Is he at the craft shop? Is he at home? Or he is at the spot where she accidentally met him on a Sunday morning?

Talking about her encounter with him in the woods raises a question in her head. What was he doing there? He did not bring anything with him. It was just him. No any kind of bag, snacks, book, nothing.

When being asked what he was doing there, he just shook his head.

Huh.

What a mystery he is.