Anaya: A Dark Voyage [#1 LightBlood Series]

Chapter 5 - At the Crossroads

~*~
We cross paths with those
whom we are destined to,
even if it's for a moment. 

Because, 
life needs a moment
to turn itself upside-down.

// Midnight Quill //
[RubaiaMQ]

~*~

The Past.
Nine Months Later.
19th December 1998.

"Happy Birthday!" Mama said gleefully as she walked into Anaya's room. Her expression changed almost immediately when she looked at her daughter.

Anaya lay still, unmoving, her skin radiating heat like a brick right out of the oven. There were droplets of sweats all over her body and her breathing was unsteady.

"Anay? Baby are you okay?"

"I can't breathe, Mama..." she managed to say, her voice frail.

Mama ran out to the kitchen to fetch a damp towel to reduce the heat before taking her daughter to the hospital. She ran past her husband who was dead asleep on the couch. He had arrived home very late and drunk the night before. He didn't bother going to the bedroom when he arrived home. There was no way he was going to deal with more of Mama's nagging and complaints about how useless he was around the house and how he had made alcohol his own devil. He was safe on the couch and so he sought refuge there.

The television he had switched on before he passed out was still on. The early morning news was being broadcasted. Mama just looked at him, shook her head and walked past him. There were more pressing issues she could focus her attention on that morning — her daughter was burning like hell very early in the morning.

"In our top stories, The USA President, Bill Clinton, is impeached by the United States House of Representatives, becoming the second President of the United States to be impeached. More on that later..."

The voice from television faded behind Mama as she made her way back to Anaya's room with the wet towel.

***

The hospital had been built long ago like the city that surrounded it. And as Mama expected, its interior was also dated. Everything was a subdued colour; no bright pastel shades only washed-out shades of white. From the exhausted-looking floor to the dented walls it was depression served cold. How was anyone supposed to get well in a hospital like this?

The corridor was crowded but what would you expect from a public hospital in a place like Abikiali? The air had an undertone of bleach — one that gave a scent to sickness.

Mama made her way to the waiting area directed there by the receptionist at the entrance of the hospital. Anaya was being carried on her back still looking weak.