02: Honour (H)

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Room 612.

I stand obediently before the imposing door, a sense of being overwhelmed washing over me, as if the door were some kind of ghastly presence.

The door exudes a strong presence, standing boldly with unwavering courage, while I, in contrast, feel small and dominated by its stature. The nameplate on the door reads 'Omar Akhtar,' and the door knob patiently awaits it's turn to be twisted open... yet, something within me refuses to reach out. A strange sense of foreboding, uneasiness.

Don't you want to see Omar, awake and well?

But what if Omar doesn't want to see me? What if he's forgotten me? What if he doesn't care about me anymore?

Lost in these anxious thoughts, I'm startled when a hand gently rests on my shoulder. Without thinking, I whirl around to face the source of the touch.

"Nurse Mary..."

The woman standing before me exudes an aura of warmth and kindness. Her brown hair, neatly tied into a sophisticated bun, frames her gentle features. Her eyes, a deep shade of hazel, sparkle with empathy and understanding. A soft smile graces her lips, inviting trust and comfort. She carries herself with grace and poise, radiating a sense of calm and reassurance. "Feeling a little nervous?"

I nod in affirmation, then turn back to face the door along with a small sigh. "I don't think he would want to see me..."

"What are you talking about? Of course he wants to see you," her voice is warm and comforting and almost managed to convince me that my beliefs are wrong; yet, the thoughts that reside in the back of my head overpower any feelings of relief or love, and my hand trembles again trying to reach the doorknob.

Nurse Mary sighs, acknowledging the sight infront of her.

"Listen to me, Hussaiba. I know it's been six months, and I know... I know it must've been tough... living without your parents, living with the possibility that your only remaining family could pass away at any given second," she takes a short pause and gently pats my hair with affection before continuing, "but I think it's alright now. Your brother... his heart rate is back to normal, and he no longer has a need for IV drips. Your brother can be discharged soon after some rehab training, and he can come live with you again. Things will be better for you after that, I promise... so just, go see your brother, okay?"

Another deep sigh escapes my mouth.

I don't really have a choice, do I?

With my hand trembling slightly, I extend it towards the door handle, the anticipation weighing heavy on my mind.

As I grasp the handle, a chill runs through me, and I can't help but notice how cold it feels, almost as if it's resisting my touch, as if some unseen force is trying to prevent me from entering - a daunting presence, like an unseen evil lurking on the other side.

Take a deep breath, Hussaiba. It'll be alright.

Summoning all my courage, I reach for the door handle once more, determined to push past the foreboding feeling; ignoring the unsettling sensation, I twist the door handle and push the door open, ready to face whatever lies beyond.

Once again, the door slowly swings open...

...

As the door swings open, the first thing that greets me is the sweet and delicate fragrance of jasmine, a scent that evokes memories of springtime and blooming flowers.

Beyond the fragrant veil of jasmine, concealed within the mist of mystery, lies a blue hospital bed. Resting on the bed is a young boy, almost an adult, propped up and gazing out of the window at the landscape beyond. His curly black hair and tan skin identify him instantly - it's Omar, my older brother.

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