Broken

Beginning

As she sat in the hospital bed, continuously losing herself to her past; willpower to confide in someone grew stronger. Her distaste for men was ever on the increase but Doctor Behzad's peculiar behaviour confounded her. Like the vile men she had seen in her life until now, he seemed different. Inside her room, he never let his sight linger on her for longer than absolutely necessary, preferring to speak with his gaze settled on to the floor. She did not understand why he would invest so much of his time to check up on her; she wasn't in a life- threatening position. Her heart was broken but her mind was on the miserable road to its mending. Her suicidal instincts were not as empowering as before. Or so she, thought.

Three weeks into the hospital and almost a week without any attempt at suicide; the doctors labelled progress on her report. These days were valuable because not only was the patient accepting the true value of her life but she had begun to utter a few syllables as well, most of which were incoherent. Nevertheless, Dr. Behzad stood proud of his handiwork. He decided to try a new tactic, involving the nurses to build confidence in the young patient's being. Every day as the nurse would go into the room to either check on her medicines or the multiple needles poking into Shillan's body, she would greet her with a jovial stature. Shillan would keep her head bent and stare at the white expanse of the hospital sheet covering her limbs. Slight touch would cause hysterics to rise, therefore, the nurses were instructed to avoid all physical contact, unless absolutely necessary.

Everyday, the two ladies in perfectly crisp white uniforms entered her room, Shillan experienced not only a sense of complete and utter loss but also, a heavy sense of betrayal and fear. Fear of getting too close, fear of confiding, fear of being thwarted. She missed her sister terribly; Zahaa was her child, she was her sister, her hope in a drowning ship. Staring at the plain walls or the needles sticking out of her sickly thin self was becoming nauseating. She was going mad because the memories kept resurfacing while her mind strayed from the empty room to her body. Everyday, she stayed here, the wounds of her past cut open to cause her further agony. She knew she'd fall back into the limbo she had barely climbed out of. So, one day when the nurse came in to finally bring her solid food chirping happily about how far she had come, Shillan dared to thank her but the words became muffled as apprehension coloured her judgement. The nurse's shocked expression and trembling hands added further to her discomfort as she struggled to stop from berating herself from the supposed mistake she had just made.

Realising that her reaction had terrified Shillan, nurse Sadaam corrected her mistake by placing her hand on Shillan's and let the tears roll off her face onto Shillan. As conflicting thoughts coursed through her mind, Shillan cursed herself for talking, almost giving into tears when she realised she might have made a grave mistake by speaking. She was anxious because she thought that the nurse might think she was better and throw her out of here. She didn't like the hospital but she knew she was safe here. The white walls might feel as if they were closing in on her, sucking her breath away but simultaneously, they formed a protective fortress separating her from her enemies. Shocked, she looked up to see a faint smile dancing on the nurse's lips. The watery eyes, that continued to shed tears showed so much sincerity that her mind was hit with a sudden picture of her mother's last days. Her heart drummed in her chest as she felt it constricting. She was tired of questioning motives of the people around her. Trusting others had always been her biggest flaw and life had given her more than her fair share of experiments with her shortcomings.

For once, she felt like she could let go. Her world had never shown innocence. She knew exactly of the atrocities man could commit; even the most sincere looking ones. Looks were but a facade, an accomplice in carrying out acts of what the heart truly wanted. Her life had taught her that. Looking at the Nurse now, though, she felt uncertain of the surety she had before felt in pushing everyone away. Gazing into those dark eyes, she glimpsed actual sympathy and an emotion she could relate to: pain. She uttered a single word,
"Why?"
The nurse looked up even more startled then possible. Confusion creased her brows and then, realisation dawned on her and in a low voice she replied,
"My own daughter was raped and murdered later, I can understand your pain."
Shillan shakily brought her hand to the nurse's cheek and wiped off the running streak of tears.
"She was lucky, then."