I blink as a bright light flashes on my face. My vision is a bit blurry, and the voices bouncing off the walls in the room are muffled. I try to suck in a deep breath, but it turns out to be a strangled gasp. I lie uncomfortably beneath the covers of a hospital bed. I groan in agitation as I realize that somehow I've been changed into a hospital gown. I close my eyes shut, because I can't stand the light. It's just causing more pain as the left side of my head aches and throbs more. I open my eyes again as I here the faint sound of boots - thump, thump, thump.
The door flies open as a man in a kind of lab coat walks in with a clipboard. I realize that he must be a doctor. He clicks his pen. "Status report," he says abruptly.
"The patient's pulse is stable. She has a high fever at one hundred two degrees. She slipped into unconsciousness ever since she arrived yesterday; that makes it at least fifteen hours," a high-pitched voice responds.
The doctor jots this down on his clipboard. He glances at me. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I croak in a hoarse voice. "My head hurts," I add.
The doctor nods. "Give her some medicine, Nurse Claire." He exits as quick as he came in.
The lady who talked to the doctor hands me a small cup full of light blue liquid. "Drink up," she says in her squeaky voice. She gives me a faint smile.
I take the plastic cup from her and drink the medicine slowly, because it actually tastes awful. Once I finish drinking the medicine, I sit up to make myself more comfortable, but I realize that the bed is in a slight sitting position. I just stare at my hands. The only sounds in the room is the tick tick tick of the clock and the shuffling feet of the nurse.
"When I am I going to get out of here?" I ask too suddenly. This room is already making me nervous and agitated.
The nurse does not look up from what she's occupied with as she acknowledges me. "Soon, dear. We just got to run some tests and then you'll be out by tomorrow."
Tomorrow? I have been here since yesterday - waking me up would have been better.
"Well, can I at least eat something?" I ask a little too scathingly. I don't mean to sound rude; but I am starting to feel suffocated in here, as I was in unconsciousness in a hospital bed for fifteen hours.
"I just called someone to get your lunch in." Nurse Claire walks over to the door and opens it. She looks back at me. "I need to check on another patient. But stay put; your mother will be here shortly." And with that said, she closes the door behind her with an audible click of the door handle.
Great. I'm stuck here all alone.
Luckily, my bookbag is across the room, propped up against the wall. I slide down the bed - the floor is so cold, why didn't they at least provide me with socks? - and walk over to it. As I bend down to reach for it, the same stabbing pain comes back again. I get hold of my bag and set it on the bed, climbing back in.
I get my phone out. Zahra has left me at least ten texts, asking me how I am, and I have two missed calls from Veronica. I didn't get anything from Keith nor Kara, but I just figured that they would stop by with Mom. I go through my texts and answer back, and I do the same with the missed calls, leaving Veronica a voice mail.
I lay down on the bed and play around on my phone a little, trying to pass the time. There's nothing you can really do in a hospital room.
Someone knocks on the door and I say, "Come in." Another nurse comes in and brings a tray of food. She pulls out the gray plastic board attached to the bed and swings it around so that it is in front of me and sets the food on it. I give her a grateful smile as she leaves. Mom comes in after she exits the room.
"Hi, honey. How are you feeling?" Mom comes over and hugs the life out of me. I squeeze her back and rest my head on her shoulder.
"Fine, I guess. My head feels like it got shot."
She gives me a wholehearted laugh. "Don't worry, the doctors and nurses said that you will be out first thing tomorrow morning." She rubs my back gently in circles and we stay there awhile, embraced.
A knock sounds from the door again and we break up the hug, and Mom stands up to open the door. The doctor who came in a while ago with the clipboard is standing in the doorway. "We have set up the machines and X-rays. It's time for the tests. We're ready when you are."
I give him a small nod and give Mom one last hug. A nurse comes in and helps me into a wheelchair, even though I am pretty capable of walking. She pushes me forward and Mom waves at me as we exit the room. I close my eyes.
I hope this goes well.
***
I wake up once again, but not to a bright light, but to the quiet persistent noises of the machines surrounding me. I am usually a deep sleeper, but the tests wore me out - I didn't sleep too well. The light in the room, thankfully, wasn't awfully bright, so the aching in my head isn't as severe. I took three more cups of medicine before I knocked out.
I also hear the rocking of a chair. I turn around to see Mom reading a health magazine in a rocking chair, which is odd because I have never seen rocking chairs in a hospital before. Mom glances up and greets me. "Good morning."
"Morning. You've been here the whole time?"
She nods. "Yup. Your brother and sister wanted to see you, but you were either sleeping or having some tests run. Also," she looks uneasy, "your dad called."
I sigh. "And?"
"Well, he was checking up on you. He's coming home today to see you and your siblings."
I gulp. I haven't seen Dad in a long, long time. Why does he decide to come home now? "Um, is he still thinking about getting back together with you?" Mom gives me a small, sad nod. Dad and Mom have divorced when I was only twelve, making Kara seven and Keith eight. It was a very sad time of our lives of having half of the love as we had before, and it was also a burden for Mom, too.
"So...you are not going to get back together with him," I state rather than ask.
"I'm afraid so, Kayla. I have already moved on; he should have too." Mom kisses my forehead. "Don't worry, everything's going to be all right."
"Mom? I want to tell you something."
"What is it, dear? Anything bothering you?" I shake my head.
"Actually, I have been thinking lately. You know my friend Zahra, right?" She nods. "Well, she has told me many things about Islam, and I find it rather...interesting. I have also read the Holy Book, the Qur'aan." A dark look crosses Mom's face. "Anyways, I thought that we should, um, maybe consider converting?"
Mom purses her lips. She takes a long deep breath before answering. "Kayla, I have sent you to a public school so that you will be more happy. I know that you want to interact with other types of people, but it doesn't mean that you should do everything as they do exactly. We are Catholics and we are strong in our faith. We can't be Muslims. It justs violates everything we have worked for for being our best."
I nod in understanding, but I hide my frown. I really want to be Muslim - I want to protect everyone I know, including myself, from the punishments that are to come. But I can't do so since Mom is so strong in her faith. If she only said yes...
"And please, Kayla, don't bring this up again. We never break from our religion." I nod again.
"Okay," I say in an unhappy tone.
A nurse comes in an gives us a warm smile. "You can get home now. Everything went fine with the tests, but you still need to take this medicine along with you to assuage your headache." She hands me a bottle of the same blue medicine I drank yesterday, and I make a face at it. "Just drink two teaspoons every twelve hours. Anything else you need before you leave?" Mom and I shake our heads simultaneously. The nurse leaves, closing the door behind her.
"Well, I guess it's time to get home, then," I say as I make an effort to stand up after getting off the bed. I find my clothes and bookbag on a table. I get into the bathroom that is in the room and change quickly.
I'm actually surprised that I have survived through all of the time I have been here in the hospital. I stayed here for half a day, a full day, and a morning. And now I am ready to leave, having the feeling that I have overcome the hatred of hospitals. It may sound like nothing, but it's really a big thing for me.
I get out of the bathroom and sling my bookbag on one shoulder. Mom hands me my coat and I put it on after removing my bag. We check out with the people at the front desk, and then we finally leave the hospital. I am hugging the medicine to my chest, hearing the faint sloshing of the blue luquid.
We get into the car at last. I stare outside, waiting in anticipation. Dad will be coming home, and I can't wait.
***
I let out a sigh of relief as I step into the warm atmosphere of home. Keith and Kara are at school since it's Wednesday morning. The house is eerily quiet. I wonder how Mom can be so used to such silence whenever she's home.
I hang my coat in the closet and kick off my high-tops. I make myself some waffles and eat them along with maple syrup, blueberries, and a fruit smoothie. Mom comes into the kitchen as I finish up my breakfast.
"When you're done, you better get some rest. Don't forget that tonight you'll take your medicine." Mom sits across me with a glass of water in her hands.
I sigh in exasperation. "I know, Mom. I am not a little kid anymore." I stand up and put the dishes in the dishwasher. I am much too tired to be washing dishes, even if they were a few. "So, Dad...What time is he coming?"
Mom sips her water slowly. "Soon, Kayla. Actually, I don't know. He just told me he's coming - he was really vague on it. He said there was something 'important' he wanted to tell us."
"What is this important thing?" I inquire.
Mom darts her eyes from mine. "All I am telling you is that what he is going to tell you...well, I don't like it one bit."
"Listen, I know you're hiding something. You are my mother and I am your first child; you can trust me. It wouldn't make a difference if I know now later on. I am growing up; and now I need to be told what's up." I look at Mom carefully in her emerald eyes.
"You know what I said - he was vague about it."
"Exactly. But how deep is vague in this situation?"
Mom looks up at me. "Go get some rest,"she says, her finger circling the rim of the glass.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong." I stay where I am and cross my arms in defiance.
"I said go get some rest. And I mean now." It sounds like Mom is gritting her teeth, but I don't care. We always have these arguments. They are a natural thing. But I should at least know the reason why Dad is coming.
I sigh in defeat and drag my feet up the stairs, clearly mad. I slam the door to my bedroom hard, so Mom can hear it all the way downstairs. I don't want to deal with this anymore.
I look through my phone to see if I have any more texts or calls. I have three texts from Zahra and one from Veronica. But what surprises me is that Nick Grey texted me.
My thumb hovers over the text. I reluctantly tap on the text and read it.
I have heard that you are sick. I hope u get better soon. but don't faint when you see ur own blood ;p
I type back:
haha, very funny. there was no blood!
I hit send, but I know that he is in school now, most possibly. And why would I want to text him? He is such an idiot, and here I am, texting away.
I immediately get another text from him.
oh, so you're out of the hospital? if u r, meet me at the park in thirty minutes.
I huff at the text. Why would he think I will follow him? I shake my head and start typing back, but suddenly stop myself. I really need some time to cool off from the argument I just had with Mom, and the best place to is outside of the house. Besides, it's not a surprise that he's skipping now.
um, okay. cya in thirty.
I prop up some pillows underneath the sheets and comforter of my bed, so whenever Mom comes in to check on me, she won't bother 'me', assuming she thinks I am in the bed sleeping. I know it's not the best idea, but I need to get of the house to just take some fresh air.
I sneak downstairs and get my shoes and coat. Mom is still in the kitchen, and I hear her talking on the phone. I inch closer to the doorway of the kitchen, but conceal myself from her by standing behind the wall to my right.
"...not coming? No, don't you do this, Marcus. You left the children! They really miss you...I already told Kayla you're coming...No, I have already told you, I won't...Why can't you come?...This is ridiculous. I got to go now." She hangs up and sighs, putting her head in her hands.
A feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. No, they're not gentle butterflies that make you nervous or bashful, but vicious ones that cause hatred among those who you love. A single tear rolls down my cheek. Dad lied. And I will never know what he wanted to say, assuming he'll continue distancing himself from us.
I put on my coat and high-tops, taking my phone and keys with me in my pocket. I open the front door slowly, praying silently that Mom won't see me. I close the door in the same manner once I am outside. I get in my car and turn on the engine. I wear my seat belt and back out of the driveway, and one thing comes to mind:
My dad is lying while my mom is grieving.
***
In about ten minutes, I park my car in one of the parking lots at the park. I texted Nick a few minutes ago where he wanted us to meet in the park, and he texted back that I meet him at the playground. It is an unusual place, but I just shrug my shoulders and walk to the playground swarming with kids fifteen yards away.
I sit at one of the park benches surrounding the big playground and watch the kids in grief as I remember all of the times my family and I went down here. During our picnics, Dad would throw me high up in the air, leaving me in fear, as I thought that he'll let me fall to the ground. Then, I'd find myself safely in his arms, giggling in happiness.
But those happy memories came to an end before the year I turned into a teenager, angry at her parents for breaking up their family and happiness.
I kick at the new fallen snow which lays on the frozen ground, twinkling in the sunlight that comes through the the branches of the trees. I bite my lip to prevent my tears to rush out of my eyes and unto my cheeks. I won't let anyone, especially Nick, see me cry. See me as an invulnerable girl.
"You just can't wait to see me, don't you?" I hear a deep husky voice ask me.
"No," I retort harshly. "I just need some fresh air, that's all."
Nick sits next to me, almost too close, and our faces are only inches apart. I stare at my shoes, the kids, and the snow, but not at him. I don't have time for his little seductive games.
"I never thought that you'll come," Nick says, and in the corner of my eye I see him look at me. But this is the first time he's not looking at me with a smirk.
"I needed to get out of the house. I had an argument with my mom." I still stare anywhere but his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he replies sympathetically.
We sit in silence, Nick staring at me, while I stare at the kids on the playground. "The playground...Why here?"
He lets out a deep, long sigh before he sets his eyes on the playground too."It's a long story."
"I have time," I reply, hearing the hint of real sadness in his voice for the first time.
"It was three years ago - I was fourteen or fifteen then. That was the second year my mom was diagnosed with cancer." I flinch as I hear the pain in his voice as he refers to his mom in past tense. "She was so weak. She had to be kept in the hospital for weeks, and my dad got so caught up in bills. He was too fustrated. He was also heartbroken because he barely saw Mom, since he had to go to work and take care of us - me, my younger brother, and my younger sister.
"My close relatives supported us and lend us money, but it wasn't enough to cover the hospital bills. My grades lowered and I couldn't focus during football because I kept thinking about Mom. But before she even had to stay in the hospital, Mom took us here to have some fun and bonding time. She knew that she'll pass soon - and I knew that too. Anyways, we had the best times here with Mom. She even got on the swings and slide just for our pleasure. She didn't care if people were watching - she wanted to have her last moments of her life with us."
I feel my eyes become watery, and soon enough, my vision gets blurred by the tears that threaten to spill out. Every single day, I complain about Mom and Dad's divorce. I just don't realize that people have it worse than I do.
"Everytime I come here, I feel a connection with her. Like she is still alive, but we are in our own isolated place. Just the two of us. But I wish it were a reality. Anyways, after we had some time on the playground, we had picnics and strolls around the park. She'd buy us ice cream while it melted in the sun, and we would have our heads back laughing at the most ironic jokes. She never let us see her pain. She kept making us laugh, but I knew deep down inside that she is truly not laughing. She's rather crying, because she'll leave everyone she loves here, mourning for her.
"But of course, she tried her best to fight the cancer. We had hope in our hearts. But the day I saw and heard her utter her last words, 'I love you,' it was too much to bear. My father broke down in tears. My siblings sobbed along with me. We begged and pleaded for her to come back, but she never came. And now Dad - where can I start? He is in an emotional mess. He never wants to marry again. But at least he got back on track on work. He is still frustrated and grieving. There's too much pain that has been left behind."
Silence envelopes us. I stare at Nick for the first time since he came here and find that he's expressionless. He is still staring at the playground.
"I'm sorry," I whisper to him. The tears spill out, and I sniffle.
"Don't be. Cancer should be sorry." He glances at me. "Well, I'm sorry for making you cry. It's too sad of a story."
"Don't be," I whisper back, my voice hoarse. "And it is sad. I am always complaining because my parents are divorced, but now I just realized that you have gone through so much, yet you don't complain."
"Who said I don't?" He gives me a hint of a smile.
"Why are you smiling?" I ask.
"One thing my mom taught me is to always smile, no matter how painful the situation." His gaze flickers to the playground.
That shut me up as we stare at the playground, Nick remembering the moments he had here with his mom, while I am remembering the moments I had with my dad. The memories seem so distant, yet so close. And of course, they'll stay forever in our lives, minds, and hearts.
***
I know, I know, this is a sad chapter :'(. But twists are very good things in stories, right?
Anyways, PLEASE give me ideas for this story : either comment below or PM me. I will even dedicate a chapter to you!
HEADS UP: I WILL NOT BE POSTING ANOTHER CHAPTER SOON, BECAUSE OF THESE STUPID THINGS CALLED MID-TERMS. SO DON'T BE SHOCKED IF I HAVE A LATE UPDATE. Okay?
Assalamu Alaykum and have a good day or night or afternoon or evening. :)