Broken With Betrayal

Prologue

Author’s Note:

I dedicate this story to some person I’ve come across in my life, because the life this person is living has moved me a lot. I want to write down what I feel for this person, (today is a special day in ‘this person’s’ life, but this person doesn’t see it!) and let the world know that people like these aren’t worth hating. Instead, they should be helped to stabilize themselves. And if they aren’t helped by someone, no matter who it is, they simply waste their lives mourning over something that they could never get. May Allah Almighty give patience and courage to ‘this person’ and all the other people who’ve lost someone precious in their lives. My utmost love and support for people like these.

Thank you for giving this book a chance. Hope you like it!

Your very own sister,

Silver (BloomInTheMoonlight)

P.S – This story is 90% fictional; the places and characters are self-made and are not to be confused with real-life objects, places and personalities.

P.S.S—Don’t forget to vote and comment.

Prologue

The beep of the various machines, resembling much to the monsters he’d seen in the cartoons, broke the silence now and then as he slowly, cautiously made his way towards the bed where his one and only mother was lying, unconscious and unresponsive to the world and its contents. She’d been in comma for about six months now, and no news or hope of her recovery had been seen. He walked slowly; the tiny joggers he wore made a slight thud against the tiled floor. His father, clutching his hand tightly, walked along with him, an unexplained emotion in his eyes. He stopped a few feet away from his darling wife and let his son walk the rest alone. The child moved forward, inch by inch, his heart beat increasing with every step he took.

There she was, his dear, precious mother, lying there, in front of him. How much did he miss her comforting hug, missed her charming voice, to get a single kiss of hers? How badly did he want to talk to her, and tell her how much he missed her, her scolding and everything that’s associated to her.

“Mama,” his petite voice echoed through the room. “Mama, wake up, please,” he pleaded, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He moved forward and stroked his mother’s cheeks, then took her hand in his. His small six-year old innocent hand and her huge but delicate hand provided a huge contrast. But he still held it, and squeezed it hard as a small tear rolled down his face. “Wake up, please,” he repeated again, this time, his voice even smaller. “Look, Haris is waiting in the house; he’s waiting for you to come back. And Huda, she’s grown now. She’s getting taller and taller everyday.” He paused to look at her, and he sighed slightly. What was he expecting from her? To wake up now, when even his father had stopped giving hope of her life.

There was a long silence; he kept staring at her, at her brown hair neatly combed back, at her closed eyes. How did they look like? He hadn’t seen them open for quite a long time. They were brown, he remembered, hazel brown, just like his own. Beautiful eyes, eyes that used to hold unconditional love for him. Eyes that he would stare at for long before going to bed. Eyes that he’d never understood. He missed those eyes.

“C’mon, it’s been along time you’ve been asleep, wake up now. Such a long sleep isn’t good for our health, come on.”

Beep, beep, beeeeep. Silence. Beep, silence. That’s how it went on, beeps and then stillness. After a few minutes of a prickling silence, he let go of her hand and placed it back on the bed. He turned around slowly, perplexed eyes met gloomy ones. “You said…” his voice trailed off as he looked at his papa for an answer. His hands were balled into tiny fists as he made his way towards his papa. A few inches in front of him, he stopped.

“You said that she would wake up THIS time,” he almost yelled. His father kneeled down in front of him so that he could take him in his arms, but he moved back. “You said she  ...” he raised his finger towards his comatose mother on the bed “... She would wake up now, and she would talk to me!” He demanded angrily, “that’s why you brought me here, that’s why…”

“Hassan, hey, calm down,” his father moved forward, tried to take him in his arms but he backed away even more, not wanting to get close to his father. Not wanting to trust him any more. Not wanting to trust any one.

“But you SAID it. You lied to me?”Hassan continued his rants, his pitch increasing with every passing moment. “You said she wouldn’t sleep now…”

“We’re trying dear, we are.” His father tried to convince him, but in vain.

“No, you’re NOT! No body is! You keep saying that, I want my Mama, I don’t want YOU!!” he was getting out of control now, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

“Hassan, stop it,” his father tried to bring him to a halt. He stooped forward and took him in his arms as he fought to struggle free. “Hassan, calm down, you are in a hospital, not in your home! SHUT UP!”

“NO!” Hassan denied angrily and pushed his father back with as much force as he could, only earning himself a crisp slap on his left cheek. As soon as his hands came in contact with the rosy, chubby cheek, his father regretted it. He knew he shouldn’t have done it, but, he was angry. And his anger had taken the worse of him. Hassan didn’t cry, he just stared at his father, the hazel in his eyes showing off anger and pain, confusion and rage all at once. His cheek had taken to a crimson shade, heat radiated off from it.

“Hassan, listen, come here, come to Papa.” His father lowered his voice, speaking in a much tender tone than before. Hassan only shook his head in negative. Giving a quick look at his mother, he ran past his father, towards the door and was out in a jiffy.

“Listen…” Papa called out, but then let him go. He needed to be left alone, needed time to compose himself. He walked over to his wife, touching her cheeks with his hands. His mind was racing fast now, something had to be done. The kids were losing it. Especially Hassan. After a few minutes, he gave one last look at his wife and sighed, as his eyes became watered. “Come back, please,” he whispered. “Look at Hassan, look what’s happened to him. He’s losing himself, we need you. Every one needs you …” then he got up and left the room quickly, fearing that he would start exhibiting the behavior his son was showing minutes ago. The door closed softly behind him, Mama lay there, silently, unaware and oblivious of the commotion that had taken place before her.  

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Silver ^_^