𝓜𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮

44# SMILES

THE KHALIL RESIDENCE,
ASOKORO.
MARCH, 2022

Jamil had once wondered what it felt like to drown.

In his mind, he could see his hands trashing in pursuit of the surface, legs kicking violently against the water, the stinging pain as water flooded his airways, setting an unbearable pressure on his lungs.

He imagined the fish that lurked silently, watching as their dinner trashed around in one last, hopeless attempt to survive.

He imagined that his eyes would sting, from his tears and from the water.

He imagined the final moments. Those last seconds were his muscles felt too heavy to move, too strained to even grant him one last twitch. He felt the loss of hope, the dawn of reality, the creeping of an unfamiliar coldness.

He glanced through tearful eyes at the surface. At the sun beaming above the water, it's warm rays trying, but failing to reach the depths he'd fallen to.

He imagined what it felt like after that. A steady decline towards depths no human would willingly explore, no longer human... An object somewhere between the description of carcass and fish food.

Jamil imagined until it was too painful to, and then he let his mind drift to other gruesome forms of death.

Death.

The word kept playing in his head. And everytime he saw Hajia Zaynab, the images became more vivid.

He'd thought he'd struggle to come to terms with reality, that he'd go through denial and anger, that he'd refuse to believe that his mother was dying...but it never happened.

If anything, the exact opposite had happened to him. He'd come to terms with the fact that Hajia Zaynab was dying. It hadn't been too hard to; the woman could barely get a sentence out without wheezing, she couldn't walk on her own, and every bone in her body had started to jut out. 

Jamil couldn't bear the sight of her, nor the sight of what was to come. Without realising it, he'd become distant from her. 

He hardly visited her room, he kept their greetings short, and hightailed out of whatever room at the sight of her.

Everything in him hurt. He couldn't breathe well, couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. It was only in prayer that he found himself. It was only then that he let the tears go. 

His heart hurt in ways that were physical, so much so that it skipped beats and pounded against his ribcage. He felt like he was drowning.

He tried to breathe but couldn't, he tried to turn off the pain but it just wouldn't leave.

"Jamil!", He heard Jamilah shriek in a voice that sounded distant.

Everything hurt.

"It hurts", he gasped, hands clutching at his chest. "I can't breathe", he heard himself say. "Jay, I can't breathe".

He felt a touch but flinched from it. Some part of him knew it was Jamilah, but he couldn't bring himself to calm down.

He felt his head being pulled towards her, felt the softness of her chest as she hugged her to him, felt the wetness of her face as she pressed her head on top of his.

Her scent was soft, sweet...feminine. He felt his breathlessness give way into hurt, his senses awakening.

"It hurts", he whispered, surprised that it was a sob, not words that left his mouth.

When had he started crying?

He fought the tears, tried to tuck away the pathetic show of vulnerability but failed. Everything in him felt like it was broken.