My countryside Lover

Chapter 1 - A loss beyond words

This cannot be her end. Not now. Not like this.

I walked stiff and numb through the hospital's antiseptic-scented corridors, each step echoing the fear inside me. The sterile white walls seemed to close in on me as I approached the hospital room, bracing myself for what waited beyond those doors. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed open the door and walked in.

There she lay on the bed, a frail figure cocooned by a sterile hospital gown. Unrecognizable. Bruises marred her once serene face. A thick bandage, stark against her pale skin, encircled her head. Tubes and wires snaked in and out of her, connecting her to an array of machines that monitored every heartbeat; every breath. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors felt eerily out of place, like a discordant note in a symphony of life.

My father stood by her bedside, his eyes red and puffy, a silent testament to his grief. My younger sister, Meera, clung to his arm, her tears falling freely as she murmured words of reassurance to herself as if hoping she could hear and hoping she would wake. I approached hesitantly, the distance between us a hopeless chasm of fear and sorrow.

Gently, I took her hand in mine, holding it as if, by some unspoken connection, I could will her back to us. I wanted her to know I was there. Yet, she lay there, unmoving, lost in a world that was veiled from us. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the weight of the inevitable.

My father, his resolve faltering, left the room to speak with the doctor. My sister and I stood side by side, our hands intertwined as if holding onto each other could anchor us in this nightmare. Meera's tears fell like a lament; her anguish was a mirror of my own. I wanted to be the strong one, the protector, but my strength had crumbled since the moment I received the alarming call.

Standing alongside her, the machines seemed to amplify the silence that enveloped us. Time blurred as I stared at Mom's face, the lines etched by life's challenges now intertwined with the harsh reality of her current state. I wanted to will her back with every fibre of my being, to beg her to stay, to fight.

My mind couldn't wander to anything but thoughts of her. Mothers are always special, but mine was a rare gem, a guiding star in my not-so-easy journey. She hadn't just been a parent; she had been a friend, a confidante, and a support system when I lay in the same hospital bed for months. Her unwavering love and strength had allowed me to be vulnerable, to dream, and to go for the stars.

She was always there for me, - through the late nights of pouring over textbooks and worksheets, to picking me up from my classes, and attending my recitals and competitions, always cheering me on from the shadows. She'd been a beacon of love and sacrifice, and just as I was on the precipice of realizing both of our dreams, this was happening. I needed her to cheer me on from the stands on my big graduation day, but here she was an almost empty vessel.

The room was hushed, a sanctuary of whispered wishes and unspoken goodbyes. I yearned to hear her voice, to feel her embrace, and to tell her that she couldn't leave me, not now. I reached out, shaking her gently, pleading for her to wake up and be with us once more. But reality's grip was unyielding. The truth was undeniable, no matter how much I wished otherwise.