Read Online The Darkest Corners by Barry Hutchison - Free Book Online

empty. Same blank walls. Same stark ceiling. ‘Nothing,’ I told him. ‘There’s nothing here.’
    His hand squeezed my arm. ‘Try,’ he encouraged. He motioned up towards the corner of the room. ‘What about the television? Can you see the TV?’
    I followed his gaze. ‘No.’
    â€˜It’s there, Kyle,’ he said. ‘It’s important that you see it before we bring your mother in. It’s important I know you’re OK.’ He pointed to the corner up by the ceiling again. ‘The TV. Do you see it?’
    â€˜No. I... I...’
    â€˜It’s a flatscreen, twenty-eight inch, black frame with silver writing at the bottom,’ he pressed. ‘Try to see it. You must try.’
    A tingle buzzed at the base of my brain.
    â€˜I... I can’t,’ I began.
    â€˜Flatscreen. Twenty-eight inch. Black frame with silver writing at the bottom,’ he insisted. ‘Concentrate.’
    â€˜It’s not… There’s not…’
    But now there was something there. It appeared between blinks of my eyelids: not there one moment, fixed to the wall the next. A flatscreen TV, twenty-eight inch, with a black frame and silver writing at the bottom.
    â€˜I see it,’ I said, and a sensation of relief washed over me.
    â€˜What else?’ asked Dr Feder. ‘What else do you see?’
    From the corners of my eyes I saw the rest of the room appear, as if being painted into place by some invisible brush. There was a sink in the corner, a bottle of bright orange liquid soap mounted on the wall just above the silver taps.
    Over there, beneath the TV, was a chair with wooden arms and a tired-looking fabric back. There was a window beside it. The blinds were closed, but a dozen or more “Get Well Soon” cards sat on the sill. A dozen or more! I couldn’t think of a dozen people who’d want to send me a card, but there they were all lined up in a row.
    â€˜Everything,’ I said. ‘I see everything.’
    He looked around the room, as if seeing it through my eyes. Then he rocked back on his heels and gave a satisfied nod. ‘Excellent. You’ve done really well, Kyle. Would you like to see your mum now?’
    My head gave a slight jerk up and down and my eyes went to the door. Doc Mortis, or whoever he was, looked happy as he pushed the door fully open and stepped aside.
    And there she was. My mum. Standing in the doorway, her eyes glistening with tears, her whole body trembling. She ran at me and her arms and her smell were suddenly around me. Her hair tickled my face, and my dad and Doc Mortis no longer mattered. Nothing mattered except her, and that moment, and that hug.
    â€˜You’re OK,’ she sobbed when she finally pulled away, and they were tears of happiness and relief. Just like mine.
    â€˜So are you,’ I said, sniffing loudly. ‘You were… I mean, I thought you were…’
    She hugged me again, and all my doubts drained away in her arms. It was her. She was real. She was mum.
    When we pulled apart I looked over at Dr Feder. ‘I thought… My dream. You were my dad.’
    My mum gave an embarrassed laugh and her cheeks tinged pink. She glanced at the doctor, with his broad shoulders and square jaw, then quickly looked away.
    â€˜You woke up a few times before we operated,’ he explained. ‘You would’ve seen me then. Doctor Morris too. That would explain how we got into your dreams.’
    There was that itch again. That niggle at the back of my head.
    â€˜Yeah,’ I said. ‘I suppose it would.’
    â€˜Anyway, I’ll leave you to it,’ Dr Feder smiled. He strolled over to the door and made his way out into the corridor. Just before he left, he turned back to me. ‘You had me worried there for a while, but you came through.’ His smile widened. ‘I knew you could do it, kiddo,’ he said, and then he closed the door with a click