Chapter 65

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Abel

"A coma?" Fabian asked in disbelief. "That's fůcked up, man."

It had been two days and Abel's mother was yet to emerge from her coma. He had been discharged the day prior and the first thing he'd asked for was to see his mother. They'd authorised it and he was thankful about it. But seeing her did nothing to mitigate his anguish; on the contrary, it intensified it. He felt despondent seeing her so still, looking less like herself.

Upon his return home, his uncle's wife had thrown a fit, hounding her husband. Abel felt bad for his uncle, his wife couldn't bear him staying outside home, it drove her insane that he prioritised his nephew to his own familiar. They quarreled incessantly over it and she'd even begun threatening to leave him. Victor never hesitated to remind him it was all his fault.

Abel had stepped out early in the morning. He'd decided to pay his best friend a visit. They'd been talking for hours. Somehow, he'd found himself smoking a joint with his friend. They were both in the living room, sat on the floor, resting against the foot of the sofa.

"They've got her hooked to bloody breathing machine." He puffed out smoke, staring at the half burnt cigarette between his thumb and pointer finger. This was his second joint. "They say she's dependent on it." He scoffed. "She said she was never gonna depend on anybody after my... father died. Now she depends on a fűcking machine just to breathe."

A hand landed on his shoulder firmly. "I'm sorry, mate. I more than anyone knows what it feels like to having a uhm... sick parent. Already lost one to cancer and the other's going because of some weird-ass disease I have to look at in the files just to pronounce. Not that It's comparisons though. I'm just saying... You're not alone, I feel your pain."

Abel reached over to put off the cigarette on the saucer atop the coffee table. He then got into a laying position, laying on his back, propping his head with both arms behind his head.

"If she dies, I'm going with her. I'm not spending one minute in this world without her." He said calmly.

His friend scoffed and gulped from the bottle of vodka in his grip. "Your mother's not going to die." He sighed. "Few years ago, life was hell for you and her. I know you haven't fully gotten out of the woods just yet but when your dad was alive, those were dark times, my friend. An abusive father, the story always ends in tragedy but everyone just waited to see how yours would end. Life gave you one good reason to hold on, he brought both you and your precious mother out of that hell.

But no no, it wasn't just an occurrence. You survived because of the mutual love that existed between the both of you. You never left her side and she never did yours either. It must've felt like it was you both against humanity's most despicable scourge but you held on. Your love was the weapon that enabled you walk out of that hell."

"Ma' doesn't love me, Femi." Abel whispered out softly. "She don't love me no more."

"You're her son, you fool. How could she not love you? You're the only reason she fought and stayed in that marriage." His friend reminded him. "It may be a little hackneyed but you need to be by her side now more than ever. Ain't no time for expressing hopelessness, pessimism, and cowardice.

Just do this... Close your eyes and see her eyes, see your reflection in her beautiful eyes and let her see love in your eyes. And think of everything you'll say to her when she wakes up."

Mama, you're the centre of my universe. Come back to me and I'll be your good boy once again. I'll chase these demons away.

I love you.

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