Santi: The Devil's Pioneer

Chapter 8 - Could Have Been Mother and Daughter

    "I see you live alone in the streets. Do you have a mother and father?"

"Good luck getting her to speak, though. She's been dead silent on the drive." Tom, the other policeman, mutters.

"Darling? Do you know where you are?" Doc Lola tries to talk to her again.

Doc Lola sighs, but unfaltering to Santi's unresponsiveness. She was professionally trained to get through to people. She wasn't gonna give up on Santi.

"I'm in the hospital." Santi's voice was hoarse from not speaking. Lola lets out a small smile, considering her answer a small victory. "I'm at home."

Immediately, the people around her shifted in their seats and position. Well, this was a weird one. Doc Lola coughs and tries to shoo away the thick air of awkward tension around them with small talk.

"Yes, the hospital is home to many people. It's home to me, as well. I've had some very uncomfortable nights on that same couch over there." Doc Lola smiles and points out the grey Kinsley 92" on the other side of the room.

Santi looks at where the doctor was pointing and proceeds to take in the room. She takes a look around to confirm her surroundings, slowly returning her sense of awareness. It was like being in and out of your own body, she felt like she would blackout every few minutes. It must have been the hunger and exhaustion taking its role.

"So you know you're in the hospital, darling. But do you know why you're here?"

"I fought to get out of the car, then fainted in the car, and then they panicked, and brought me here." She says, her words crisp and clear, as she motions to Tom and Ray. The two nodded for the doctor to continue.

"Impressive, ain't she?" Tom whispers to Ray. The two chuckle watching Doc Lola weasel answers out of Santi so easily, it was like she was talking to a toddler.

"Do you know your name?"

"Santi," she pauses, "Santi Grahams."

"Oh." Doc Lola laughs, surprised. "We have the same last name. Isn't that fascinating?" She looks at the cops and stops her laugh seeing them with questioning looks. "Um, okay. Santi, do you know where your parents are?"

Santi was unsure of what to say, but nevertheless, said it.

"My father's in Hell."

Once again, the people in the room were taken aback by her bluntness and total weirdness, and assumed her father must've been a bad person whilst alive, and was now dead.

Hell was an unreal place for some humans. Those who don't believe it are usually the ones who sinned their way through life, and never really wanna talk about accountability or responsibility. For those people, the idea of Hell was an idea that could break their sinful ways.

"O-Okay. How about your mother?" Doc Lola tries to recover the conversation casually into sanity.

"I don't know where she is." Santi's lips purse downwards, her eyes dropped. It was a sensitive topic, Doc Lola immediately reads.

She sees her reaction and her heart broke for Santi. For the policemen, here was a violent, and homeless teen, sparkling trouble on the streets. But to her, here was another child broke by the world, probably with an abusive father, and a mother she had never known, living on the streets. Her needs were never catered to, therefore, leading her to become this broken shell of a person at such a young age. Doc Lola was used to these scenarios, she wasn't the first child/teen brought to the clinic with similar tendencies and reasons for behaving so, but she could never stop feeling awful towards those children who had endured so much. So much more than the forty-four years she had of life.

"How old are you, Santi Grahams?" Doc Lola coughs, and tries to recover her emotions.

Now, Santi knew well how old she was. Approximately, 318 years old. Yep, that's how long she has suffered. But she hesitated in answering. No human has ever lived past 200 years. 300 years and so would only make her look crazier. Thankfully, Doc Lola answered for her.

"You look around 18." She observes. "Men, if I could have a word with you outside, please."

"What about the girl?" Ray motions to an absent-minded Santi, staring at the odd figurine atop the center table of Doc Lola's office.

"She'll be fine for a few minutes, trust me." She chuckles and goes through the door. "You'll stay put, right Santi?"

Santi nods. The policemen hesitantly leave the room, keeping their eyes on the girl watching her knees move to and from the chair.

"She's fine. Mentally and physically stable. Maybe a little traumatized. I could delve further into that, if you want. But no mental illness of sorts." Doc Lola says directly. "I am concern about her personal background. She seems like such a sweet girl to be left by herself. And she looks like she's been through so much."

"Honestly doc, we're just happy we don't get to do the paperwork for a mental person. They're thick papers. As for your concerns about her personal background, we'll check what we can. We need to dig up her records, anyway." Ray shrugs his head.

"But don't concern yourself too much, doc. Most of these kids? They're are used to living alone. If you interfere, you'll probably just entangle yourself into something dangerous, or worse, you might get hurt." Tom chimes in.

Doc Lola nods in agreement to the two gentlemen, and watch as they pick Santi up. They cuff her up and walk together out of the hospital. Santi looks at Doc Lola one more time before leaving, and Doc Lola's eyes spell regret.

She follows them to the hallway to the reception area. A nurse pipes in from the reception desk, staring at the passing trio as their elevator closes, and turns to Doc Lola.

"The girl is cute, and she looks sweet." The nurse says, smiling.

"I know, right? And we have the same last name! Like, I get creeps." Doc Lola laughs along with her.

"You could totally be mother and daughter, doc." The nurse chirps as she continues her work on the computer in front of her.