Chapter 11: Book of the Dead - The Grimoire
In all honesty, Mikel felt like everything had been a blur the moment he walked out of his ward.
The applause from doctors, nurses, and hospital staff felt like a distant dream. Some people clapped with them out of a pure understanding of the gesture. Others—the not entirely human anymore—watched him with silent curiosity.
One lady stood on the side with a smile, but the rest of her body was passing through the nurse's counter. Just enough to cover her twisted leg. A patient's reflection in the window didn't match their movements. Or rather, their reflection was not even there.
It was a short walk, meant to give him a sense of pride or joy. After all, he was finally leaving this place. Leaving with his sight still intact.
But alas...
Mikel didn't feel triumphant. He didn't even feel embarrassed by what the attention should've made him feel.
Instead, he felt lost. Confused even.
Like he was drifting, untethered, through a world full of oblivious smiles — smiles that had no idea what walked among them. And this felt isolating. More than anything else.
—
A wind passed, but none of the leaves on the trees moved. He looked around. No one else seemed to notice. Of course they didn't.
Mikel found himself seated at a bus stop across the street from the hospital.