*Trust your gut feeling.*
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You've reached the voicemail of 'Vessel' please leave a message after the tone...
Hey, it's me. Um..Elaha. Gosh this is so awkward, I want you to know how hard this is for me. I know you wanted to talk, I think it's easier this way for me to tell you via voicemail. I'm not sure if this will ruin your perspective of me but ah. um. I-. I don't think I can do this. I'm not good enough for this. I think I'll pick up another job I don't want to seem like a charity case and dead weight to you guys. I value friendships...I haven't had many in my life. Usually they all leave because I'm not en- are we friends? I'm not sure. This is embarrassing, I think I'll text you this so I don't make more of a fool of myself. Bye.
Voicemail deleted
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As I near the end of my residency, I find myself falling into a familiar pattern. I'll wake up early in the morning to attend to patients at the main hospital and in the evenings I check on Yasmin as much as I can to keep her spirits high. To make sure she doesn't go through what I went through. The rest is basically eat, sleep, and repeat. I consider myself a habitual individual since I find comfort in the familiar.
But now, even as I do what I love I fight the dam that threatens to break. The loneliness, the lack of support, and the constant need to prove myself to others just to survive is taking a toll on me. As a child, I always was the one to mediate between my parents and their ceaseless arguments. When I grew older, the responsibilities shifted to protecting and caring for Yasmin when our parents checked out on us and chose to prioritize themselves.
Shaking my head, I pull myself from my thoughts, maybe I'm just stressed since I have to monitor a general surgery in a few hours. Humming softly and fiddling with the soft fabric of my dark green hijjab, I find myself drifting to the breakroom to find a snack before the surgery.
On my way there, I notice a few nurses running the opposite direction with anxious expressions. Someone grabs my elbow and I turn, "Dr. Elaha?" I nod. "That's me." His eyes have an empty look, I know he's going to deliver bad news based on his practice expression. "There's a severe motorcycle accident with a semi. 33 yo Male, loss of blood, broken limbs, we need you in the surgery room now. Cancel the other rotation." He doesn't wait for my response as he drags me to the operating room.
My pulse skyrockets and I try to stay calm, breaking out of a pattern makes me extremely anxious and I didn't prepare for this surgery. Oh, God. What if I mess up again? I hurry after him across the halls and my eye grazes a tall figure standing in the corner with his arms at his sides, covered slightly in the shadows. He leans against the wall by the chair his eyes monitoring passerby's. I turn my head as I pass by trying to see past the shadows but all I can make out is faint smirk and I watch his hands fist at his sides. By the time I try to process what happened I look back again and see nothing.
God, I'm going insane. I should be focused on heading to the surgery.
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The surgery was a Level 1 Trauma Alert after I went through the trauma algorithm with the head surgeon, it was clear that after over ten minutes of CPR, it was unlikely he would stay alive. I remember cutting his jacket and gloves with shaking hands and feeling a piece of my heart shatter each time I tried to staunch the bleeding but his heart rate would falter further.
Injury after injury. broken bone after broken bone. Scratches everywhere.
I couldn't help myself, when we were placing the femoral line and the chest tubes I thought of him. I remember the feel of his back and the way his arms flexed while driving with confidence. His heavy breaths against the cool air and the way he would drive slower every time I felt myself slipping...
The thoughts came flooding and I felt my heart rate rise further. The walls felt like they were closing in. Spinning. Down and Down.
And suddenly, everything stopped. Everyone took a step back and I felt my lips move. "Time of death 7:45 pm. A moment of silence and may he rest in peace." I don't remember leaving the room just the numbness as I grabbed my things and walked towards the exit. I watched someone die and was too distracted thinking of him.
I walked towards the car, a soft voice in the back of my head telling me that I was being followed by I was too numb to care. This was the first patient I had watched die. The first time I witnessed the face of his wife crumble as the surgeon told her that he didn't make it. This is my fault. The tears softly start streaming down my face and I prepare to drive home. I'll see Yas tomorrow, I don't want her to see me like this. I let the windows down and breathe the cool air trying to steady the nausea.
As I turn on the car and back out the parking, I see the moonlight between the trees and a few feet away I see the shadow again. No. Not a shadow, it's moving closer. All I can see are his legs as he steadily moves closer. His boots softly treading the damp ground. My hands feel slippery as I grip the steering wheel frozen in shock. Do I let him get closer to see who he is or do I hit the gas?
My gut tells me to floor the gas but my curiosity wins out I slowly back out and follow him with my gaze. Wait? Where did he go he was behind me? I frantically look around through the mirror and I feel movement next to me. I keep my eyes forward feeling the fear radiating off of me.
I feel him brush a finger across my scarf and over my hospital id that has my full name Elaha Noor on it. He leans closer and I tense up refusing to look. "your name is a sin" he inhales and I grip the wheel tighter. "I breathe like oxygen." He finishes. I swallow audibly and turn to look at him.
Again, I can't make out his profile or his voice it's gruff and hidden. All I can see is a steady chest and just darkness. "Who are you?" I breathe shakily. Fighting the urge to hit the gas and possible kill a man. Stupidly, I find myself thinking of him again wishing he was here. Whose gonna save you now Elaha. I sigh. When he lets out a low chuckle and grabs my chin roughly in between his hand.
He mutters something faintly under his breath that sounds strangely like 'obsession' and suddenly he's gone again. Without a second thought I floor the gas and I grip the wheel so tight I fear it will break and I don't let go until I get home.
As soon as I get inside I slam the door and lock it. My hands subconsciously reach for my phone and hit the call button. It doesn't matter who it is, I can't be alone right now. There's too much going on in my head.
After a few rings a familiar voice answers, "Yes?"
"I-, Hi.."
"Elaha? What's wrong." God, I must be so deprived that hearing my own name from his lips makes me feel... I fight for the words, after all he is a stranger and I can't bring myself to ask.
"Nothing, just wanted to see if you got my text." He pauses briefly and his voice is colder, "I did." ugh, he probably doesn't want to talk to me anymore. "Either you tell me what's wrong right now or I'll come find you." I- what?
"You didn't answer any of my calls, we thought something had happened to you and you missed the meeting in the afternoon today." Of course. This was about business after all. "Sorry, I've just had a rough day. Can I- can I talk to you for a while?" I'm alone. I need someone here and I trust you.
I don't know what I expected. A simple no or maybe a yes. But I didn't expect the loud bang at my door and for the line to go dead.
Be careful what you wish for.
YOU ARE READING
Show Me That Which I Cannot See
Fiksi Penggemar(it gets less cringe I promise) Him: Determined to save the face of his band as they face stipulation and at the behest of his team, he hires her to act out songs with him during his concerts. He hates speculation and wants to remain anonymous. If...
