YOURS, JANNAH

#FIFTY TWO

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Jannah let out a tired sigh as she finally sat down on the bed beside her sleeping daughter who's been battling with a headache since the night before. Jannah couldn't sleep the whole night, watching over her daughter for any sign of discomfort throughout. It was not easy because Imara herself cannot tell what is wrong with her or where is aching, she kept crying her eyes out till Jannah fed her spoonfuls of different syrups.

Well, she also cried with her.

Now it is eleven in the morning, she hasn't eaten anything though Aisha brought them all breakfast so they could eat together inside Imara's room, she couldn't stomach anything seeing her daughter weak and getting in and out of consciousness. How could she? Imara had never been sick until yesterday so it justifies just how worried she is over her daughter's wellbeing.

Aisha traipsed into the room looking downhearted too like the mother currently sitting on bed, half lying and closing her eyes to catch some sleep and rest her tired eyelids. She looks worn out but nothing Aisha would say will get Jannah off that bed if Imara doesn't recover completely. Her eyes are droopy, huge bags beneath them making her look older than her age. Is that how our mothers fussed over us when we were younger? Truly a mother's love is different and raw.

Jannah opened her eyes at the sounds of her footsteps even though she tried her best to walk as quietly as possible. She gave Aisha a small smile before her eyes dropped on Imara's small figure beside her. The little girl is sweating profusely which means the fever is breaking. She's been on that hours ago. It breaks then build up another fresh one with excruciating headache.

Aisha sat down on the other side of the bed and touched Imara's forehead. "She is still boiling. I thought you broke the fever earlier?"

Jannah sighed tiredly, cleaned her daughter's sizzling hot body with a porcelain soft cotton towel that she's soaked inside cold water. "I did but it is relentless, going and coming back."

Her eyes teared up a little as she studied her daughter's tiny figure hurdled on the bed beneath heavy sheets of duvets. She would frisson here and there before everything goes back to normal. When the headache hurts a lot, she would wake up crying to her mother to take away the pain because she cannot sleep with it. Jannah cried with her the night before, cuddling her daughter to her chest while lulling her to sleep by talking endlessly between tears.

As she brought the girls naked body to her chest now, she is filled with terror at how hot her daughter feels. There is this soreness in her muscles, stiffness, and cramping that wouldn't go away no matter what position she would change. A persistent pain in the back of the throat that is making it difficult for her to swallow her own slaver. Elevated body temperature just like her daughter's and nausea.

Her body tensed from strain attentiveness, she forced herself to swallow. "I think we should take her to the hospital. The fever won't just break down on it's own."

Aisha stood up readily, that was at the tip of her tongue but Jannah said it first. She started searching something light for Imara to wear, came out with a button down shirt that needs nothing beneath. Sheathing the little girl's body in the tangerine clothing, Aisha touched her forehead again only to yank her hand away at the scorching swelter of the little girl's body. That feels so not good at all.

Jannah closed her eyes with both her tiny fists to keep the tears in bay, her throat closed up when she saw how Aisha reacted at the feel of her daughter's temperature. It is over one hundred Fahrenheit which is totally abnormal and not something she should take lightly. She thought the method Adnan used to wreck her own would work on her daughter but obviously not. It did nothing but offer temporary relief.