Me Before You

PART 36: Maelstrom Of Emotions

𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞
🅆🄰🅁 🄿🄾🅅

I could not remember the exact sequence of events that unfolded during the car accident. The memories were a jumble, an incomprehensible swirl of chaos and terror. The only distinct recollection that managed to pierce through the haze was P'Yin's desperate cry, a haunting echo that reverberated in my mind as the world around me spiraled into darkness. And then, all at once, my consciousness slipped away and I was left in a void of oblivion.

When awareness finally reclaimed me, I found myself confined within the walls of a dilapidated hospital room. The mirror revealed a face that was no longer mine alone. The scar, a vivid testament to the car accident had etched its mark across my skin. I could not stop crying because of that. The accident had been a near death experience, an event that had left its indelible imprint both externally and internally.

It was a moment of realization when the doctor, identified as Dr. Thu, entered the room. He said that three weeks had passed since my accident induced slumber, an unconsciousness that had spanned a realm of uncertainty. Yet, the journey into awareness was far from a gentle one. I was trapped in a whirlwind of emotions, an overwhelming tide of fear and confusion. P'Yin's name, a mantra of both longing and dread, escaped my lips in a constant refrain. The unknown surrounding me seemed like a malevolent entity, a source of trepidation that only intensified my already crippling anxiety.

Dr. Thu's inquiries, though well-intentioned, fell on ears that struggled to grasp their meaning. I grappled with the words, their significance elusive amidst the storm of my internal turmoil. Why was I here? What had happened? The questions swirled within me, a tempest of uncertainty that raged on.

Time rolled on with a deliberate indifference, marking the days that flowed past the walls of my confinement. And then, a month after I woke up from the depths of coma, a presence entered the room, two figures that heralded both familiarity and a wave of unease, P'Yin's parents.

"That's not how we plan. You should just die," That's the first words that P'Yin's dad said when he saw me.

Every time they came here, I continuously implored them to grant me the chance to meet P'Yin. Day after day, my pleas echoed through the air, intermingling with my tears. However, their patience soon waned and their response transformed into an onslaught of physical abuse. Blow after blow rained down on me, their violence encompassing hair pulling, merciless kicks to my frail body and a ceaseless cycle of blows that left me battered and broken.

Amidst the pain, their words echoed like a haunting refrain, assertions that P'Yin had found happiness without me.

"I will never allow a shameless person like you to meet my son again! Anan is already so much happier without you!" P'Yin's mom shouted.

Yet, deep down, I knew this to be a fabrication, a lie meant to perpetuate my isolation. What terrified me beyond my own captivity was the unknown fate that had befallen P'Yin. I was trapped in my own torment, yes, but the thought of P'Yin being somewhere out there without me was an agony far worse.

In the confined darkness of our imprisonment, the hours stretched into eternity, punctuated only by the sounds of my own cries and the haunting silence that followed. My days became a cycle of yearning, pain and an ever growing dread for what might have befallen P'Yin beyond those walls. It was the uncertainty of his well being that gnawed at my sanity, the knowledge that he must be searching for me.

P'Yin had become an intrinsic part of my existence, the very source of my strength, my comfort, my reason to keep going. And the certainty that he might be enduring this very pain alone was what fueled my determination to escape this nightmare. The bruises on my body became an evidence to my fight, to my unyielding determination to reunite with P'Yin, no matter the odds stacked against us.