Just for a minute, think about what you know. What you have seen and heard.
Think hard about what you were taught. About everything you would swear to be true regarding this planet and the creatures who dwell above and beneath.
So, how did you go? Have a pretty good grasp on your perception of things? Good.
Now. What if i said that absolutely everything you know and were taught up until this day was false to a frightening extent. Calm down. Before you yell lunatic hear me out. What if i told you that we, the human race, were never the first human like species to spew forth from the primordial ooze. That this mishaped sphere we call earth was never arranged to be our home.
Still with me? No? Just hang on. What would you say if i told you that this planet, planet earth, was originally inhabited by a race of beings very similiar to us. Wait, i know what your thinking. Cave men. No. Cave men never existed. Its just one of many false scientific and historical statements taught to us. No Im actually talking about, what did he say again? the proto humans. Basically man before man.
I can almost hear your thoughts right now. "This bloke is an idiot. Another conspiracy nut". Well your only half right. You see, i am an idiot sometimes. But a conspiracy nut i am not. The events described in this book are based on a mans ability to see, hear, participate and use logic to analize what was happeneing around him. Still dont beleive im not a nut. Then a nut just wasted 2 minutes of your time. Close this story. Im pretty sure the latest romantic novel is out. Try your book buying over in that section. However, if you are still reading this and are willing to give me some of your time, then get comfortable.
Have you ever had one of those days where by the afternoon your so exhausted you cant even day dream properly?. You know, those afternoons that capture the spirit of the rotten day. Those days where you cant help but wonder how you managed not to choke someone. Well, its been one of those days and iv’e come to the conclusion that if i stay at my desk any longer i’m going to lose it. I quickly power down my computer and push the mountain of case files to the very edge of my desk as if the further away they are from me, they might just become someone else’s problem. I don’t even wait for the computer to switch off and im already on my feet making a dash for the elevator. I dodge and ignore the polite but meaningless gestures from the other workers as they go about making no difference in the world whatsoever but convincing themselves they are. I get to the elevator and press the button for my floor. The door opens and i lunge in that quick i almost knock over another passenger. What a crummy day i think to myself on the never ending journey to the lobby.
I push open the door to the FOS City police station like a criminal who just got let go for a crime they committed. I’m walking that fast i slide down more stairs than i step down. I land on the street after missing the last step into a hoard of people zombies. Of course, they all seem to be walking in the opposite direction. I snake and push my way through the droning crowd who are clucking on their mobile phones. Too busy to offer a polite "excuse me" as they bump & push. You might be asking yourself "what’s wrong with this man?". Well, you see early on i had a flash back to the past. Usually when your vulnerable and unhappy, the flash backs are not generally to a happier time. The flash back this time took me to a time that was life changing. Iv’e done my best to ignore my own thoughts and feelings about this time captured moment. But today, today for some reason i just cant fight the thoughts and emotions off. Great, out of all those days i successfully ignore the past, today is a perfect day to recount. To top of this merry occasion, a storm has brewed and its raining. My stride starts to slow as my mind races like a rat trying to find the cheese in a maze. So many thoughts, pictures and sounds. I do like one of the thoughts though. I should stop off at my favourite watering hole on the way home. Good thought. I change direction and walk across the road ignoring the beeping and yelling of the drivers around me. It’s not what i would call a popular place to drink even though the name says it is. "the better than a bar, pub". I walk through the front door of the pub and flutter the drenched jacket im wearing. I make a straight line to my favourite stool at the very end of the pub as the bar keep nods acknowledging my presence. I plop myself on the stool and politely request a bourbon on the rocks. As i wait for my drink my police instincts kick in and i pan around to get a picture of my surroundings. Besides the mouldy odour that can be smelt mixed in with cigarette smoke and vomit, not much happening here tonight. The usual clientele and a few more puddles of water on the floor from the mystical leak in the roof that no one can see or find for that matter. My thoughts are changed as the bar keep puts my drink on a napkin in front of me. Before it touches the napkin i pick it up and take a swig. Ahh, that’s better. I take another swig and gesture for another. Again i wait. This time i don’t think of whats around me. I think of the tormenting thoughts twirling like a tornado in my head. I start to feel despair as my thoughts race up from the deep dark place of my mind.
I find it difficult sometimes to tell my self this story is real. Its not even my story. This story belongs to someone else. I was merely a witness to some of these events. To some events i found myself an unwilling participant. I did not beleive what i was seeing at first. It all seemed like an illusion. Like a magician twiddling something in one hand and something exploding in the other. It felt like i had stumbled into a unrealistic realm of powers, beings and battles. Things that fictional stories are made of. The only thing that felt real was how we humans act towards things we dont understand. Even worse how we treat beings we dont comprehend. I cant help but feel remorse for him. It was a tragedy how people treated him. How quickly they turned on him. I find myself laughing sometimes just by thinking about it. Not because it is funny. No, its because how they, we, acted. Speaking of laughter, a trio of mud monkeys have just arrived in the pub. Loud, crude and full of bad manners. I try my best to forget that they entered. My next drink arrives and as i take a sip i can hear one of them gloat. At first the words are muffled. Its hard to concerntrate when your thoughts are racing in every direction but straight. I listen in.
" HAHA, You know what i heard on the street today?. Some moron speaking about that..that thing. You know, that alien. They said he could hold a 5 story building wall up with no fuss. He wasn’t tough. That monster. He got what came to him. We got him good"
i chuckle to myself. This crummy day is getting worse. I so badly want to stand up and smack that idiot right in his unbrushed front teeth. "That monster?" stupid arrogant worthless idiots. That monster saved them and they are too thick to understand that. The authorities really know how to influence these braindead walking garbage cans. Their rants become louder and louder. I squeeze the whiskey glass hard in my hand. Its punching time. I chuck the last bit of booze down my throat, pay the tab and ever so casually walk towards the smell of arm pit odour and annoying forced laughter. Seems i wasnt too casual as the bar keep has sent his female lacky right to the next table to clean up even though no one had sat there.
"Hey fellas! How is your evening treating you?" i ask with no consideration of who these blokes are. The one sitting to my left puts his drink down turns his head and with an annoyed and confused look dribbles "Whats it to ya mate?". I relax my shoulders and clench my fists slightly. "Whats it to me?" i blurt loudly. His gorilla looking mate chimes in "Well? whats it to you?’ he says with a smirk. "Well, you see. Everyone in here was having a nice quiet drink. Thats until you ladies pranced in speaking like assholes". The bar falls silent. Even the horrible music was turned down. It went that quiet that you could hear a fart drop. Seems everyone wanted to hear what was going on. "What did you say?" the ugliest one of them barks as all 3 stand up puffed like cane toads. "Well! incase you couldnt quite hear me over the sweet nothings you were whispering in each others ears, i called you an asshole!" Perfect. That got them riled. Its always a good idea to anger jerks like these. It causes them to not use the part of the brain that yells "Its a trap. Watch out!" One of the men moves towards me to start his attack. Damn it! The lacky jumps in between us as the bar keep yells from across the bar "Not in here boys. Cool down or get out please". I look at the lacky. The poor girl looks like she too has had a hard day and just wants to finish her shift and get the hell out of here. Hurting these 3 would surely make a mess of this already dump of a place. I decide to back down and turn to leave. I take only 5 steps towards the front and i hear chairs being moved and pushed aside . Its a sneak attack!. But im ready for them. Sorry young lady. I tried. The first idiot tries a sucker punch. I duck in time and with my right hand i land a bruiser on his chin. He drops like a bag of crap. The other 2 dart off in different directions. I shouldnt have drank that 2nd whiskey. I feel a bit disoriented. I defend myself against the 2nd moron with the beer bottle. He breaks it on my arm as i protect my head. He now starts taking wild swings as i upper cut him to his gut. He’s on the ground now moaning next to his mate. Where the hell is the 3rd idi..
I cant even finish the thought when i hear a loud crack like someone hitting a pool que against a watermelon. Everything suddenly goes black like the next scene in a movie.
I come to in what i hope is rain water in an alley not far from the pub. Those bastards knocked me one and dragged me down the street to finish me off. I try and lift myself from the sludge on the ground. My arms collapse and my head drops back into the puddle face first. I try again. Just as my arms straighten i feel a soft human hand trying to help me up. For a split moment i think those men have come back. As i tilt my head i can just make out a pretty face in the dark. Its the girl from the pub. The lackey. She helps me to my feet. "Are you ok?" she politely asks. She’s a sweetie i think to myself. Of course i’m not ok. Iv’e had the crap kicked out of me while i lay in what i still hope is rain water. "I’m fine" i mumble back. "Come on. I’ll walk you home" she offers with a smile. "No. I’m ok, i can walk home" i announce a tad embarrassed. I take one step and my right leg gives way. I fall into a pair of garbage bins. Again she helps me up. She puts my right arm around her shoulders and gives me a stern look. "3 blocks and we are there" i shyly confirm.
Both of us stumble up the stairs to my apartment after what felt like the longest 3 blocks in history. I sigh with releif as i announce my unit number. "Thank you for helping me get home" i say softly. She looks at me and with a smile, "your welcome". I grab for me keys in my trouser pocket and fumble them until they land on the ground. Damn it. Im still light headed. She kindly picks them up for me and unlocks the door. "you going to be ok?" she asks. I nod politely as a trickle of blood runs down the side of my head. She reaches in her handbag and pulls out a handfull of tissues. "Your going to need stitches" she says wiping the blood away. "C’mon, im sure you have a sewing kit somewhere". I really didnt need this tonight. All i want now is to be left alone. She asks for the bathroom as she sits me down at the kitchen table. I give her the directions knowing full well i have no sewing kit. Within minutes she returns with antiseptic, a large bandaid, a towel and holy hell, a sewing kit. Who knew i had one? She sits in front of me. No more than 1 foot away. As she tends to the wound i cant help but stare into those eyes of her’s. This girl. Ive seen her so many times but never paid her any attention. She cant be more than 25 years old. Beautiful black silky hair with dark green eye’s. Smoothe milky skin. A smile that would settle a pissed off tazmanian devil. I know she has tried to start a conversation with me in the past but i never went to the pub to gossip. All i ever gave her were polite short responses hoping to end the beginning of all possible conversations. "You knew him, didnt you?" she breaks the silence. I nod. "Is that why you stood up to those idiots at the bar?". I nod again. She grins at my lack of enthusiasm. "Tell me about him" she shyly asks. At first i wanted to say that im not in the mood but my thoughts were stunned by the last stab of the sewing needle piercing my skin. She offers a courteous apology and asks if i have any whiskey. I point her to the cupboard above my fridge. She grabs the bottle, takes off the lid and suggests a swig for the pain. She sits back down looking directly at me as i take a mouthful. I pause for a minute. All you could hear was the sound of distant thunder and rain tapping on the windows. She’s still looking at me, this time with a raised eyebrow. I take a deep breath and begin to tell her exactly what im about to tell you.
It was awful. A true testament to our race. Just because he wasnt one of us. Even when we saw the good that he had done, the good he could do and his will to do it for us, we still wanted to destroy him. He protected us from forces we didnt even know existed. But we were so self indulged with who we thought we were, we never realised it. He saved countless lives. He took on a small army sent by the corrupt and evil powers who run this city from darkened and ominous rooms that you will never see. He gave so much and there are people to this day, in this city, who havent the faintest clue that they owe so much to him. I sometimes forgive them in my moments of cursing this city. How could they know. It wasnt as though he bragged about his abilities. He didnt post his incredible rescues on the internet. He never told anyone. The only people who knew were the ones he was saving or protecting. Of course there was always the on lookers who stopped in amazement. Now, before i go on any further, you may be wondering, who in gods name am i?. Well, you should ask. Especially if your going to pay attention to this story. My name is Luke Chase. Sargent Luke Chase down town at the Fos City Police Station in case anyone asks. "Target" to so many criminals i have thrown in jail. Authors say that its a good idea to describe a major character. So, im 5"10, stocky build, brown hair, hazel eyes, 36 years old turning 50. Oh and this cute girl im talking to, her name is Dotty.
Anyway i digress.
It was 25 years ago. On a night very much like tonight. A severe storm had rolled into the city. The rain was pelting down so hard that anyone standing under a tin roof would have surely damaged their hearing. The thunder was so loud that it shook windows with every rolling boom. The city was all but deserted. Workers had gone home and any shoppers or people who dared to venture out must have quickly changed their minds. The city was quet except down on mains street. A faint siren could be heard from a distance getting louder and louder as it approached. Blue and red lights bouncing off marble buildings. An ambulance was speeding towards the city hospital with its precious cargo. In the back, lying on a stretcher, was a young boy struggling to breathe. By his side was Hazel, his mother. "Stay awake sweetie" his mother stutters. "Remember your breathing technique. Watch mummy". The poor boy was in and out of conciousness between wheezing and coughing. It must be traumatizing for the little ones not knowing or understanding whats happening to them. Hazel reaches for her sons hands but can only hold on for a second when the paramedic requests the boys arm to administer a shot of anti inflamatory sirem. The paramedic doesnt pay attention to the greyish rash on the boys arm until the needle breaks while trying to penetrate his skin. He looks at Hazel with disbelief. "Hang in there sweetie, we are almost there" Hazel says with a lump in her throat.
After running several red lights and avoiding a collision with a parked car, the ambulance skids into the emergency section of the Fos City Central Hospital. The paramedics along with the driver stretcher in the young boy with his mother running by his side. Waiting at the desk was Dr Adoo. Dr Adoo had been the family doctor since the boy was welcomed into this world at birth. He had become quite familiar and intrigued about this mysteries illness the boy had from an early age. The nurses put on a new oxygen mask and start to administer the anti inflammatory medication the paramedic was unable to do on the way in. This time they choose a different arm. One with no visible rash. Dr Adoo starts to run tests immediately to determine the severity of what they now call "attack". "Hazel, when did this attack begin?" he asks. Hazel tries to remember all she can since it began 45 mins ago. "Did you give him the inhaler i prescribed"?. Hazel nods and with a sense of annoyance replies "It had no effect this time". Dr Adoo asks about the boys rash. "Like everytime, a greyish rash forms that is hard to the touch. "He seems stable now. I would like to keep him in for observation" Dr Adoo decides. Hazel offers a weary sigh "so the usual accomodation please".
The boy is placed in a single bed in a single narrow room at the end of ward 3 which overlooks the hospital gardens. The room is equipted with a lounge that unfolds into a bed for parents to stay overnight. It’s not the most comfortable bedding arrangement but im sure the parents who unfortunately book a night arent there for the rooms rating. As Monitors are placed and readied next to the boy, Dr Adoo informs Hazel that her son is doing much better and if he continues to do so he will be let out tomorrow. He then bids Hazel a goodnight. "Thank you Doctor" Hazel smiles. "Your welcome" Dr Adoo replies as he and the nurses leave the room. She then begins the ever fun routine of preparing for the nights stay. The young boy is recovering slowly and Hazel lies down next to him and begins to stroke his hair. "How are you my son?" she softly speaks. "Im ok mummy" the boy replies almost exhausting an entire breath while slowly closing and opening his eyes. "Get some sleep. We will go home tomorrow" his mother explains. The boy drifts into a sleep as Hazel holds him tight next to her. It has been a rough night and she has become so tired to the point where she finds herself unable to sleep. As she lay there next to her son attached to probes and cables, she recounts the first time he had an attack.
It happened on a sunny Saturday afternoon 2 years prior. During an intense game of hide a seek. Hazel loved playing these games with her son. Her son loved them even more as his mother would offer prizes if he was able to elude her for more than 5 minutes. The boy was good at hiding, but would always give himself away. Hazel knew her sons humour and would make funny or strange noises that would gaurantee a giggle or belly laugh while he was hiding. On this particular day, Hazel made the stakes even higher. If she could not find him in 5 minutes, he was allowed to stay up past his bed time. However, if she found him in under 5 minutes he had to eat a whole bowl of vegetables without complaining. This hide and seek game with these stakes were too irresistable for her son to pass up. The game was on. Hazel began the countdown from 15. The boys excitement was too great. He could’nt find a suitable spot. "8,7,6,5". The boy almost suffers an anxiety attack as he decides the empty laundry basket in the bathroom is the way to go. "4,3,2,1, ready or not, here i come" his mother announces loudly. Hazel begins with the predictable hiding places first. But he was not at any of them. She then begins searching in different places. But again, he’s in none of them. "Wow, your sure do want to stay up, dont you?" she bellows. 5 minutes goes by and Hazel calls it. "You won sweetie. You get to stay up. Now come on out and we will get dinner ready". Her son does not appear as she thought he would. "C’mon now. Games over. Come out, come out". Still the boy does not reply or present himself as the victor. Hazel begins to panic. She starts searching again while calling out his name. After 10 minutes Hazel feels a sense of dread. She walks by the bathroom and notices the odd shape of the basket. She throws off the basket lid and there in the basket is her son, struggling to breath and nearly unconscious.
The memory of that day still cuts her deep and a tear forms in the corner of her eye as she looks upon her sleeping son. She tries to wipe the scenes from her mind tonight and settles herself down.
Hours pass. It is now 2 am in Fos City. Hazel has moved to the lounge and is fast asleep. All is quite in the hospital. The beeping sound of medical equipment and whispers from the nurses station echo through the ward . Its still raining outside but atleast the thunder is far and few between now. Suddenly the silence is broken with a crack of lightning. The young boy wakes startled. He sits up panting and sweating. He looks around the room like a lost child would searching for their parents in a crowd. His eyes finally get a glimpse of his mother sleeping on the couch. The sight offers enough comfort that he lays back down. He is wide awake now. In a place he doesnt want to be in and with the rain tapping at the window, the boy becomes scared. He tries to be brave and closes his eyes as if to say "stuff it, im going back to sleep". But the poor kid cant. He opens his eyes again. All around the room is dark with the odd flashes of lightning strobbing in the room. He’s starting to go from scared to upset. He starts to whimper and before he decides to get his mothers attention, a whisper. He hears a strange yet comforting whisper.
"Its going to be ok". "Do not be afraid". The young boy is scared at first by the whisper. He moves his gaze towards the room door. In the doorway, he can see a human shaped figure standing there. He cant make out any facial features at first because the light from the hallway is shining behind the figure. Though he cant see any features, the strangers height is obvious. His head is almost touching the top of the door frame.The strange figure starts to approach the boy. "Who are you?" the boy bravely asks hoping its not the boogey man. The figure reaches the side of the boys bed. The figure speaks. "I have come to help you". The boy looks harder at the stranger and can just barely make out male features. He looks back at his sleeping mother knowing her strict rule of not talking to strangers and contemplates waking her. "How, how are you going to help me"?. The stranger reaches into his coat pocket and with a closed hand pulls it out again. He leans down to the boy. "With this" the man announces. The strangers left hand opens and in it a small silver box about the size of 1 die is revealed. The boy forgets about waking his mother and asks "what is that?". The stranger begins to explain that the box will stop the boy from having these attacks. The box will infact make him feel better. The boy is intrigued but obviously cautious. " I should’nt take things from strangers" he admits. "That is a wise thing to do. But i’m not giving you this box. All i want you to do is hold the box until i say so. Then i want you to hand it back to me" the stranger informs the boy. The boy stares at the silver box in the mans hand. Although he is very young, he understands the worry his attacks are causing his mother. He also just wants to be like the other kids and not always be house bound in case an attack occurs. The boy reluctantly opens his hand. The stranger places the box in the boys hand and instructs him to close his hand and hold tightly. At first nothing happens as the boy sits there. Curious the boy asks "what is it supposed to do?" Before he can finish asking his question, a soft blue glow starts to illuminate in his closed hand. The blue light becomes brighter and more intense. So intense that the room becomes washed in an ocean blue glow. The boy is fascinated and almost hypnotised by the glow. He does not notice that his entire body has started to change colour. The greyish rash he gets from the attacks have now covered his entire body. The boy literally is covered head to toe in a greyish metallic substance. The boys weight increases from the substance until the bed starts to bend. He lifts his right hand and gawks at the transformation. Meanwhile the stranger has taken a few steps back and he too admires the event that is occurring. After 30 seconds the blue glow slowly flickers and vanishes. The boy’s skin has returned to normal human colour and the metallic rash has gone. The stranger re approaches the boy. "How do you feel"? he asks. The boy cannot speak. His eyes are wide open and so is the hand holding the box. The man gently takes the box out of the boys hand and puts it back in his pocket. "Tomorrow you will start to feel stronger. You will start to hear things that no normal person can hear. You will soon be able to heal yourself and you will never need to come back here again" the man whispers with a confident voice. The boy is still sitting there eyes wide open. The man grins and turns to walk out the room. The boy manages to speak. "what is your name"?. The man stops at the door. He turns his head back to the boy. "My name is not important. Whats important is that i know your name. Take care of yourself, young Hale". The boy is astonished. How did he know his name? Who was he? What did that silver box do to him. What was the blue glow? As he tries to understand what just happened the man disappears. Hale tries to get out of bed to see where the man went but he has become dizzy. His head falls back to his pillow eyes closed with one arm and leg draping out from the bed.
Morning breaks over the city. The violent storm has moved on to cause havoc somewhere else. The suns rays shine through Hale’s window. Hazel begins to toss and turn. She wakes and immediately looks in her sons direction. She see’s the blankets muddled and assumes Hale is beneath them. She gets up and walks into the bathroom. She washes her face and sighs. "I hope today is going to be a good day" she says to herself as she walks over to her sons bed. When she pulls back the blanket she is stunned to see Hale is not there. She quickly glances around the room but cannot see him. Hazel darts out to the hallway and speed walks to the nurses station. "My son, where is he?" she asks. "Calm down. Your son is at the end of the hallway, room 6". "Whats he doing there? Is he ok?". The nurse walks out from behind the nurses station. "Your son is fine. Follow me, you wont beleive this". Hazel walks quickly behind the nurse as they approach room 6. As they get closer, Hazel can hear giggling. The nurse quietly opens the door. Hazel enters the room and see’s her son sitting on the edge of a bed to her left. She walks over and as she gets closer she can see the face of a young girl, with blonde hair and blue eyes about Hale’s age. "Hale?, what are you doing here?" she demands an answer. "You shouldnt walk off without letting me know". Hale looks at his mother and with a cheeky grin replies. "Sorry mummy, i wanted to say hello to Ivy". Hazel looks at the young girl. Ivy raises her hand and waves. The 2 kids begin talking again as if there was no interruption. Hazel walks closer to the bed and looks closely at her son. He has colour and there is no signs of wheezing or breathing difficulties. Hazel looks back at the nurse puzzled but relieved. The nurse gestures to Hazel to come into the hallway. "He looks great. The sirem must of really worked" hazel remarks. The nurse steps closer to Hazel and replies "He is doing very well. Much better than we anticipated. Dr Adoo has already done a check up and cant find any signs of the illness". Hazel looks back at the nurse stunned. "What do you mean?". Just then Dr Adoo arrives on the floor and signals he wants to talk to Hazel. "Yes! Good Morning. You are going to like what i have to say" Dr Adoo says proudly. Dr Adoo begins to inform Hazel that her sons condition has improved tremendously and that her son is showing no signs of the illness. "Thats incredible!" Hazel announces. "So, he wont have another attack?" she hopefully asks. "Well, we arent quite sure whats happening at the moment. We gave him the same dose of sirem which eases the effects but does not cure it. For now, he seems perfectly fine but i would like you to keep an eye on him as always". Hazel nods and agrees without hearing everything that the doctor had said. All she heard was he was going to be ok. Dr Adoo signs Hale’s release form and with a confident look advises that they both can go home. Hazel turns towards room 6 and with a spring in her step walks in to inform Hale. "C’mon sweetie, its time to go home. Say good bye to Ivy". Hale frowns at his mothers timing. The 2 were sitting next to each other watching cartoons on Ivy’s bed. He reluctantly gets up and bids Ivy good bye. Hale, his mother and the nurse walk back to the room. As Hale begins to pack his little overnight bag, Hazel turns to the nurse and asks why the girl was in hospital. "Well that’s even more amazing if i may say so?". Hazel pauses for a moment and asks the nurse what she meant by that. "Well you see, that little girl has been in a coma for 2 months. She was brought in after a terrible car accident which killed both her parents". Hazel’s jaw drops as the nurse continues. "Honestly, we did not think she would wake up. You could imagine our disbelief this morning when i walked into Ivy’s room for her daily check up to find her and your son talking and giggling. It’s a miracle. The doctors cant figure it out". The nurses story is cut short as her work phone starts to ring. She tells Hale and his mother to come and visit the girl anytime and wishes them a very good day.
Hale and Hazel leave the hospital and wait at the bus stop. Hale looks back in the direction of the hospital. On the 3rd floor, 3 windows down from his room he can see Ivy standing at the window looking back at him. The pair smile at each other. Ivy disappears back from the window while Hale keeps looking. Hazel turns to her son and notices him staring at the hospital. "How did you find yourself going in to that room?" she asks her son. Hale looks at her with a puzzled frown. "I don’t know mummy. I heard her crying so i walked in. But when i walked in she was asleep. So i just held her hand until she woke up".