He was 5 years old when was told to lay down on a hospital gurney for the first time. His jaw had been dislocated and his father was unsure if it would heal properly on its own. He didn't like the smell that had pricked at his nose neither did he care for the blast of cold air as it filtered through the vents of the aircon above him. But he didn't complain. He was silent as he watched his father talk to the doctor just outside the door.

They were arguing yet their voices never increased a decibel past angered whispers. The doctor shook his head repeatedly and kept pointing at Riaz and every time he did so, Zaheer's face darkened more and more. Riaz could feel a tremor pass through his body as he looked up at his father's angry posture, recalling only too well what came after that.

"I could destroy you." Zaheer said carefully, cutting of the shorter man's rants. "You'd be wise to think very, very carefully about your next action considering what I know about you."

"But..." Zaheer could only stare as a single tear dropped down the man's face, falling off his cheek and onto the bleak grey tile below his feet.

"Do I have your co-operation?" Zaheer knew a broken resolution when he saw one, and right now, this man was putty in his hands.

"Yes."

Zaheer didn't see the look of absolute disgust that passed over the doctor's face as he turned around but Riaz saw it. Riaz watched as pity and disgust welled up in his eyes as he looked over the young boy shaking on the bed before him. But, like many before him, he ignored his humanity as he stepped forward and began to inspect the boy.

Like many before him, he destroyed himself because he chose not to see.

And it killed him.

Riaz watched him, looking at him over the smooth wooden edge of the back of his chair.

He must have smoked something like an entire box before he even stepped foot into the hospital but still, he couldn't stop his heart from pounding painfully against his ribs as he walked down the corridors to room 502. He didn't want to see his father again. He didn't want to be near him but he had to do it. The only reason he had ever stepped foot into that room was because his father was in a coma and would never even know that he was there. He would have never even considered it otherwise.

It was odd watching Zaheer.

Time seemed to have never passed at all as Riaz looked at him. Almost a decade had gone by without him even catching a single glimpse of his father but the concept of space and time had seemed to evaporate entirely as his green eyes roved over his father's figure.

He was 18 again, fear still coursing through his veins as easily as a blood molecule passing through his capillaries. Nothing had changed. Not him, not his father and not the feeling deep within his heart. He still felt hopeless and worthless under his father's gaze.

He was still too small in his father's eyes and he would never be able to help anyone because how could he? He was a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things and specks of dust were never able to achieve anything.

His father was still the same man.

And no stroke would ever change that.

"Riaz." It was the same man as last time. He had wrapped Riaz's hand in a bandage far too large for him as he distracted him with silly jokes spoken in kind words. It had taken a painstaking hour to remove every shard of glass from his arm but Riaz barely felt it. His back was still burning too badly for him to feel anything else.

But he had never mentioned even a word about that.

He knew better than to speak about that.

"Riaz, are you listening?"

"Yes."

"We're all done now." He handed Riaz a silly sticker in the shape of blood drop, watching sadly as the boy barely even glanced at it before he jumped of the table.

"Can I go now?"

"Yeah, you can go." He watched him walk, unable to see him truly go just yet. "Tie your shoelaces first."

Riaz bent down, unaware that his t-shirt had lifted just a little, affording the doctor a look at his back. He didn't say a word as he looked at the angry blisters along his freckled spine,closing his eyes as if that action would allow him to unsee what was right before his eyes.

He chose to look away.

He chose to look away and only when the boy walked away, did he open his draw. He rubbed his palm over his eyes, trying hard to erase the memory, but ease settled over him only once he felt his hand curl around his bottle of Jack.

He needed it, he reminded himself as he uncapped the bottle.

He needed it.

The nurse that had just walked in was large, rotund woman. Her skin was like bronzed copper and her golden, hoop earrings shone beneath the dim lights above them. She smelled nice,Riaz thought. She left a trail of a sweet floral scent in her wake and it was a nice reprieve from the generic, sanitised smell of the quiet hospital.

"Hello Mr Adams." She spoke softly to his father as she fluffed the pillow beneath his head. "Did you know your son is here to see you? He's a handsome one your son. Big too." There was a smile in her voice as she spoke to him. "You're a fighter Mr Adams. I know you'll wake up soon."

Riaz watched her, wondering if she would ever say that had she known the man laying on the bed below her. Would she want him to wake up had she known that he raped his wife and burnt his children? But she was gentle as she handled the iv's in his hand and checked on the catheter at the side of his bed. She spoke to him as if he was awake and capable of conversing back with her. She smiled at Riaz, not at all shy of her actions before him. He thought he had smiled back at her but by the look of irritation that had crossed her features, he was sure that he was unsuccessful.

He thought it strange that each and every one of his father's actions and memories were trapped in his body. Nobody could see it, or touch it or hear it but they were there. His memories were deep within his mind and his brain but no MRI could ever look upon them. They were for him and him alone. The nurses and doctors that had surrounded him willed him to wake up. Most of them knew who he was- many of them had employed him in whatever lawsuit came their way and they wanted him to wake up.

It would be something of a loss to many of them had he died.

But even they would never know what secrets he carried around in his heart.

It was odd how memories and feelings were a apart of a person yet it could never be seen by anyone else. It was as if it existed on a different sphere. It was there- with his father- but not there at all. And were his father to die, the sphere that contained every single one of his memories would shatter along with him.

The nurse walked out, clicking her tongue at Riaz. She had tried to get his attention for far too long to bother anymore. And all that was left of her was her trail of perfume that tickled his nose as he watched the heart monitor beep steadily above Zaheer's bed.

"Where's the other doctor?" He was 16, already taller than most of the people he walked past and he certainly made the doctor before him seem positively minute.

"Uhm," he looked up from his file, mentally assessing the patient before him, "I assume you're talking about Dr. Cornelius." He waited for a reply but received none. "He's on leave. His wife died a few weeks ago."

"Oh." Riaz picked up his shirt, preparing to put it on and hop off the table before he was stopped by a gentle hand on his arm.

"I'm Dr Le Roux."

"Okay." Riaz shook his hand off as if it were a little fly before he made to leave once again.

"I can't let you go."

Riaz looked back, annoyed at the balding man. "Why not?"

"You tore a ligament in your arm. You can't go until I assess the damage."

"It'll heal, it's fine."

"No, it's not." He walked around Riaz in order to push him back towards the table. "Now sit."

Riaz pinched his eyes closed, frustrated at his current predicament, but moved backward anyway.

"How did you get these?" Dr Le Roux asked, pointing towards the raised, red bumps near his wrist.

"Mosquito bites."

"I didn't know mosquitoes bit in concentric circles." He replied, daring the kid to contradict him as he held his stethoscope to his chest.

"Now you do."

He noted down the results before he dug out a pen-light from his large pocket and removed Riaz's glasses. "You've had a vein burst in your eye recently." He could still make out the vague hints of red in his eye as he watched Riaz's pupils contract and expand. "Want to tell me about it?"

"No."

"Okay..." Dr Le Roux was young, he knew he was still a naïve doctor but he couldn't ignore the signs. "Is someone hurting you?" He pulled up a long stool, perching on it as he assessed Riaz's arm.

"No."

"You can tell me if someone's abusing you." He could feel the muscles in Riaz's arm tense the more he questioned him.

"No one's abusing me."

"You're safe here, you know that right?"

"No one is abusing me." Riaz spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable as if he was speaking to a child.

"It's just that you've had a lot of injuries over the years that don't correspond to its reasoning." He continued to roll Riaz's elbow, watching him flinch as the pain increased in his arm. "You're not clumsy and you didn't fall down..."

He barely registered the look on Riaz's face nor the unadulterated rage within him that caused his entire body to shake as he kept questioning him. He didn't know who the kid's father was neither did he really care. All he wanted was for him to know that he could be safe.

"It's o-" his words were cut off as he was pushed back before he felt his head practically explode as he felt knuckles against his the bone beneath his eye.

"I'm not fucking abused." Riaz watched the doctor try to stand, holding his hand over his eye as he tried to gain his footing. He didn't help him up, neither did he apologise.

He simply picked up his shirt and glasses and walked away...

He could smell the bitter smoke that permeated his shirt.

He had smoked his way through a second box since he had stepped through the large sliding doors of the hospital but he was already calculating the cost of the third. He looked to his left as the doctor walked in, entirely unaware of Riaz's presence at all. He walked over to Zaheer, monitoring his vitals before he sat down on the small stool before him. His back was to Riaz and he had never thought that anyone would play witness to his momentary lapse of strength.

"Look at you, my friend." He said sadly, shaking his head at the meek sight before him. "From who you were to who you are now- you'd hate to see yourself like this."

He tapped his thigh with his fingers, allowing himself to get lost in the gentle hum of the monitors. "You've changed ever since Claire died. I noticed the change but I don't really know how I feel about it. When the kids didn't even come for the funeral..." His voice tapered off as he lost himself to his thoughts once again. "I want you to wake up but," He hesitated, ashamed of his own thoughts, "I also want you to never open your eyes again."

He stood up, straightening his coat and tie. "It's up to you, I suppose. You know best what to choose."

He turned around, his face lined heavily with wrinkles and his white hair combed gently over his bald spot. He had changed but Riaz would never forget him. Time had not been gentle with him yet still his bright blue eyes were still as sharp as the day Riaz had first set eyes on him.

"I didn't know that you were here." He wasn't surprised to see the man before him. Riaz had changed over the years. He was softer now, not as harsh and angry as he used to be. But his body- even beneath his sweater, Dr Cornelius could make out the hard muscles that lined every inch of him. There was nothing physically gentle about the large man before him except for the calm aura he seemed to exude. 

"I arrived this morning."

"I'm glad you could make it." It was easier for him to pretend that he didn't see and he didn't know. It was the only thing that allowed him to hold onto his sanity. "I-" He swallowed the lump in his throat, afraid of the cracks that were beginning to show through his pretence. "I'll come around later. I have other patients to see."

Riaz barely graced him with a reply before he settled back onto the chair near the wall. It had been a long time since he had seen Dr. Cornelius. Yet still, he chose to believe that he had never known what was happening.

And Riaz chose to believe that he was okay with that.

His head was pounding and his eyes seemed to burn every time he opened them. The ceiling above him was blurred yet still, he could make out the brown water marks that dotted its white visage. Everything in his body ached but the worst was his throat. He felt as if he had swallowed gasoline and lit himself on fire.

"Here." He felt a straw near his lips and the warm water felt like heaven as it went down his throat. He blinked at the bright light shining in his eyes and felt a shiver pass through him as the cold metal of the stethoscope was pressed to his chest. He couldn't possibly understand where the loud beeping sounds were coming from nor why his wrist stung sharply every time he tried to move it.

"Do you know why you're here?" He recognised that voice. He had only ever associated his voice with a hospital and finally the disjointed pieces in his head began to meld together once again.

"You want your glasses I suppose."

Riaz shook his head as he still tried to gather his bearings.

"You sure?"

"Yes." The simple word caused his throat to burst into flames once again and nothing he did seemed to make it any better.

"Your throat will hurt for a while. Do you know why?"

Riaz shook his head, hesitant to speak again.

"We had to insert a tube down your throat to pump your stomach."

Riaz turned his head, looking back up at the ceiling once again.

"Do you know why you're here?" Dr Cornelius asked, praying he'd say no.

Riaz shook his head, still looking up at the ceiling as he waited for the reply.

"You had monoxide poisoning."

He nodded his head, indicating his acknowledgement.

"Do you want to tell me what you ate or what could have caused it?"

Riaz simply shrugged his shoulders. He'd pretend that he never knew how it had happened and his doctor would simply pretend that he believed him.

That was how it was and how it always would be.

And they both pretended that they were okay with it.

It was late. It was nearing 7 in the evening and the sky was already black outside the window. The cold air seemed to seep through his skin and he had forgotten how much he had truly detested winters in Bloemfontein. He stood up, zipping up his jacket as he prepared to leave.

He didn't know why he had stayed at all but he also knew that he would be back the next day.

He wanted to walk out. He wanted to leave and never look back but he needed to look at him one last time.

Just once more.

He turned around slowly but he was not prepared to meet his father's dark brown eyes.

He felt his entire body come to a stop as his father looked at him, gazing at him as if ten years had never passed and he was still the son he could destroy.

But when Zaheer opened his mouth and all that escaped was a garbled word as if his tongue was too heavy to move, nothing in the world could stop Riaz as he walked away. And Zaheer could only watch, unable to speak as he watched his son's wide back escape down the corridor...

The closed his eyes, and slipped back into sleep as if he had never woken up at all.