Once Upon A Muslim

Chapter 23 | The Letters: Part 2

The minute I open my eyes, I curse under my breath.

The sight is all too familiar to me. White walls, white ceiling, persistent beeps of the machines - everything. What's new, though, is the machine hooked up next to me. It takes me a good ten seconds to realize that I was given a tube to breathe in and breathe out of. I struggle to sit up as I stare around the hospital room groggily. What happened? How did I end up here?

My eyes wander towards the nightstand next to my bed. A single paper rests on it, folded with creases on the edges. I bend over and grab it, slowly unfolding the paper. I read it once, twice, then three times. My eyes widen as they water. For what reason, I don't know. I shake my head, screaming, only finding out that I can't. All I hear is a hoarse whisper as I sob, "Nick."

My tears roll down my face and onto the paper, ruining it by messing up the ink. I furiously wipe away my tears as I hear footsteps which seem to become more audible. I quickly fold the note, and in case the doctor or whoever's coming and sees it, frantically find a  place to hide it. Just as the door opens, I slip the note under my leg and lay back down on my bed.

"Kayla! Oh god, I was worried sick of you! Who did this to you? Oh, my baby..." I find myself being embraced by my mother. Even though I feel a bit weak, I hug her back softly and sob into her shoulder. My emotions seem to be flooding the dam I built inside of me.

Everything happens so fast, that I almost tell myself to sit down from the rush of things, even though I'm already in bed. I keep quiet the whole time as Mom tells me how much she missed me. I realize that nobody else came with her. I really want to see my siblings.

My mom has changed a lot in the past couple of months. She has more worry lines engraved in her face. Her hair is starting to gray - it must be from stress. She's rather young, hasn't reached her forties yet, so the fact that she's been so concerned about me makes me feel so guilty. I feel guilty for leaving her, even though she asked for it. I should have refused. Obviously, she didn't mean it. Parents, especially mothers, often say things to their children in which they don't mean to say. She must have said those things out of anger.

I still feel a little hurt. My heart hasn't been mended fully yet, after seeing my mom's shocked and disappointed face that day. And it doesn't help that while my mom's talking right now, I'm thinking about Nick and Harun.

"Huh?" I ask after I realize my mom is staring at me expectantly.

"Have you been crying lately? Don't lie to me, honey," she says softly.

I almost tell her yes, but then I'd have to go through explaining everything that has happened. She'll just call it "boy drama". She won't understand. After those horrific dreams/flashbacks I've had, I don't want to repeat the same things again.

"Have you?" I finally inquire.

She sighs. "Yet you're still stubborn." She smiles wholeheartedly, even though there's a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Yes, Kayla, I have. But now that I've found you, after so long, I'd get to take you home."

"Wait." She beckons to me to continue when she senses my hesitation. "Can I, um, say goodbye to everyone?" My voice is still yet hoarse, and I know I'm losing it, but all I wish for is to see every single person that I'm going to leave soon.

She nods slowly. "Of course. I'll drive you there once the doctors let you leave."

I groan. "I don't like staying in the hospital."

"I know, I know, but you have to bear with it." She pauses, looking at my forehead. My hand snakes up to it and I feel wet blood on my fingers, and quickly wipe it off the bandage around my head. I also realize I'm not wearing my hijab. The hospital had one job. "What happened?"