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Stone Cold (Part 2)

Room 325. Bingo. She entered silently, as to not disturb her entire world that was encased behind foreign walls. Looking at her parents’ state didn’t upset her, it made her angry. A form of anger that doesn’t make you shout, it makes you punch walls and cry like a new born baby. Composed; tears welled up in her eyes, flowing like a broken reservoir, silent tears of infuriation. Why must she have fought over a trivial party with her beloved father the previous night? Why did she turn down her mom’s request to assist her in grocery shopping, every single time? Why?

Still sobbing soundlessly, Jules kissed her dads scratched forehead, a flinch was the only reciprocation she got. “I won’t go to the party dad”, she whispered. Another kiss on the mother’s purple bruised cheek, with her apron with flour patches and dried out cake batter still on underneath the patients’ gown. “I’ll bring the butter next time, you just sit and relax, okay?”

Walking out upon the nurse’s request, she plopped on the floor, dismissing the steal bench across her desperately trying not to yell her lungs out. Proceeding a glass of water to ease her down, the nurse advanced to inform the daughter about the parents’ critical condition.

No. No no no no.. no. Dad: brain damage. Mom: a heartbeat away from a straight line on the electrocardiograph. Highly unlikely chance of survival. Pulling her hair. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Crying and disturbing the other patients. So what? At least her parents can’t hear her. Escorting herself to the restroom, she ringed up Sharoz who took no time to reach the hospital. Attempting to calm her down, he did everything he possibly could. After all, what could he have done? How do you console someone who just found out their parents – not one but both – are waiting for the Angel of Death to accompany them away from this world?

Short of 78 hours, Julie’s parents left this materialistic void that has nothing permanent to offer. Not the inclusion in the pictures at the party, the boys at the club, or the television series on Netflix that is ever-so-important than grocery. Nothing. Her mother sighed her last while Julie was fast asleep on the three-seater facing the two hospital beds, after staying wide awake for the past two days. Her father moved his last muscle when he delivered the slightest but the most beautiful smile he could with all his power- while Julie was tying a ponytail in front of the pocket mirror he gifted her, up early at 6 am sticking to his routine.

The child noticed the motionless chests around 9 am – which didn’t even lift a centimeter up like in the past two days; panicked; called the nurse; and with excruciating submission, accepted the reality that she knew was on its way…


About The Author

Eeman Adeel

like the lightning you see- alluring, dangerous and free⚡️