25. The aftermath

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Sign of times- Harry Styles

Neil

They say that life is unfair; but have they considered the unjustifying nature of death? There are people who desire to do something good, to make this world a better place but their unfortunate fate comes in their way and leads them to struggle-- to live, to save their very existence. While there are other people; born with a silver spoon, living like a burden and sucking on everything good that extists on the face of earth. People like me, who don't deserve to have a second chance and yet here I am, selfishly breathing and opening my eyes in a clean hospital room.

How did I survive? I am yet to be answered.

It's not painful but my body feels too weak and numb, so I can't push myself up to sit and drink water to soothe my tongue that feels like sand paper.

There isn't any clock in my view but it is definitely after midnight, considering the deafening sound of silence and the absence of natural light passing through the plain curtains hanging on the windows.

There isn't anyone in the room which is better, because I don't know if I'm ready to face anyone. Will I ever be ready for that?

I shouldn't have survived, but I did and what am I supposed to do now? How should I respond when I see my family? My guardians and.... Bianca?

I let them down, all over again and in the worst way possible. How am I supposed to survive now? With the added guilt tied around my neck for the rest of my fucking life?

My mental agony is strong but my body is weak and it is getting difficult to keep up with all the train of disappointments that is running through my brain so I eventually fall back asleep.

I regained my senses with the distant sound of people coming to their everyday lives, the smell of chemicals and the silent mummering of someone by my side.

I manage to slowly turn my head towards the direction where I see my mum with her head downcast, hands clasped together and eyes closed in prayer.

"Mum.."

Surprise, pain and happiness washes over her wide eyes all at the same time when she hears my croaked voice. She stands up and hurries to hold me by my face with her warm hands.

"My baby," She chokes and the tears begin to fall down her pale cheeks .

My mother. A kind lady who believes in God and has nothing but love in her heart. What had she ever done to deserve a son like me?

And what now? Say sorry? And promise that I'd never do anything wrong again? Would those words comfort her when I wasn't even sure if I'll ever be alright again?

Instead, I choose to stay quiet because I feel helpless and not a single word in this world is enough to ease the sorrows I've given her.

A sad smile appears between her sobs and her eyes roam all over my face as if to make sure that I'm alive.

My heart feels like it's getting ripped into pieces, forcing a lump to form in my throat.

"Water." I finally whisper.

"Yes,"

She adjusts my bed and helps me to drink water with a spoon--the smile never leaving her beautiful face.

I hear another footstep entering the room and both of our eyes turn to the direction where my father is.

The strong man I once knew is now standing like a weak and helpless man in front of me. It hasn't been a long time since I last saw him but he looks much older already. His well built body and his wealth isn't able to hide the bags and dark circles formed around those bloodshot eyes, not this time.

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