Hell Mary

Chapter Nineteen

The person behind the steering wheel rushed down and a slightly robust woman in her late thirties came into view. Her eyes were crinkled behind her bold framed glasses and her lips glowed a dried Persian red. She hurriedly leaned over to detect a pulse as she placed her ears on Mary's faintly breathing chest.

Mary remained still but for the slight rise and fall of her sprouting breasts under the gown she had on. The lady in a hurried panic, lifted Mary's body and placed her on the squeaky cream leathered chair at the back seat. The car smelled of comfortability and wealth and it still gushed out the new car scent which stuck to clothes even after long hours.

After few turns on the long road that burned with the sun, Mary was taken to the nearest hospital and soon a Doctor coated in white with a stethoscope dangling from his neck was brought over to attend to Mary. He seemed comforting and didn't seem to understand the gravity of being hit by the bonnet of a well polished car because his smile remained unrelentingly constant even when the lady tried to inject fear into his light skinned self.

"Beatrice, she's going to be fine," He said, placing one hand on her shoulder while the other held a flat board with a paper clipped to it. She heaved a loud breath and watched him disappear into a ward where she imagined Mary's body was.under strict supervision and care.

Doctor Aminu was the Fulani Doctor in whom Mary's life and chances of survival were committed into- the sang out best in the field. He sparked out diligence and a glorious smile that glared out a greater portion of his teeth. It was the little attention he gave things that remained in people's hearts and it was the reason they returned later to seek him for their numerous health problems. It was the reason ladies thought he was interested in them but for the silver ring on his fourth finger.

Beatrice sat on the mounted silver plated chair with numerous holes on its body and a cold feeling spiralled within when her skin touched it. She had pads of fat in certain corners of her body, but you could tell she was lean and young even though in actuality, she wasn't all that so. Her thoughts ran back to how she intended racing her car to her own death until she knocked a little girl down. She seemingly had enough money but the overburdening demands of the society for a lady that old to settle down always got to her. She wanted to end her life with no traces aligning back to her. The headlines will carry her death as one of the most tragic of the year. The delectable owner of Annabelle's Magazine, where culture and women were glorified died of a ghastly motor accident. She felt she had failed women by not being tied to a man or having children of her own and here she was about murdering another's. She buried her face into her hands and for what seemed like forever, she prayed.

*****

The hospital was busy that evening with accident victims being pulled in with long stretchers, the groaning of new born babies, weary relatives of patients seated at the reception awaiting good or bad news with fingers crossed, the acrid smell of many cap fulls of antiseptic dropped into water for cleaning.

The power supply had been cut short and Doctor Aminu stared into the surgical lights as they grew dim with both hands holding a bleeding artery. Splatters of blood patterned his cerulean blue coloured scrub. His fellow surgeons looked into his downcast expression waiting for the next move. The patient, Maureen, was dying and there was yet an unborn child in the womb. As though ignited into action by a thought, he lit open his pearly coloured eyes foggy with emotions. He wasn't going to fail the woman or her husband who paced about the hallway.

"Everyone stay calm! We are not losing the woman or her baby. Light up your phones," he instructed and the ward lit up.

He stitched the bleeding artery with a certain extra cautiousness allowing sweat drops form in a panic.
He slowly tore open her lower abdomen and watched as her pink coloured inner tissues had blood rush up and seep out. The process of harvesting the blood filled foetus seemed like forever.