Dare You To Love Me

«49» edge of despair (I)

Yaseerah had imagined about a dozen scenarios for when one of Mamu’s attending doctors stepped out of the ER.

Each scene had played out in her mind with cruel vividness–from the comforting reassurance of a minor setback to the devastating finality of something far worse.

She had pictured herself running towards the doctor, her questions spilling out in a desperate torrent, demanding to know her mother’s condition.

But when the light outside the ER door changed from red to green, and Dr. Seda stepped out, Yaseerah found herself rooted to the spot.

The rhythm of her heart was unreasonably irregular, her breath hitching in her throat, as she wiped her suddenly clammy palms over her dress.

Move! She told herself, but her legs refused to obey. Why can’t I move? Am I really that scared?

The sterile hospital air seemed to thicken, and for a moment, all she could hear was the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

She watched as Dr. Seda scanned the waiting area, her gaze–unreadable–finally landing on Yaseerah, making uncertainty gnaw at her insides.

This is it, she thought, ice coating her veins.

She tried to take a step forward, but her body felt like it was made of lead.

“Albi?” Fou’ad’s voice broke through her paralysis.

Blinking, she forced herself to move, ignoring the questioning look on Fou’ad’s face, as she took a shaky breath.

Her steps were sluggish, as her feet dragged her towards Dr. Seda and the news she both dreaded and desperately needed to hear, each footfall accompanied by the echo of her pounding heart.

The doctor’s gaze softened as Yaseerah and Fou’ad neared, the unreadable mask slipping away just enough to show a hint of sympathy.

“Yaseerah,” she began gently, her voice steady but kind. “Let’s talk over here.”

Yaseerah nodded numbly, following the doctor to a quieter corner of the waiting area.

Fou’ad stayed close, his hand resting reassuringly on the small of her back.

“How is she?” he asked, when neither the doctor nor Yaseerah uttered a word.

“We’ve managed to stabilize her for now,” Dr. Seda responded. “But she’s still in a critical state.”

“What does...” Yaseerah swallowed, her vision swimming as she tried to process the information. “What does that mean”

“It means we’ve controlled the immediate crisis, but her condition is precarious. We will need to carry out further tests to gauge the severity of it,” Dr. Seda explained, her eyes holding Yaseerah’s with a steady, compassionate gaze.

“How severe are we talking about?” Yaseerah asked quietly, feeling the familiar tug of despair lurking at the edge of her mind.

When Dr. Seda’s only response was the flattening of her lips, Yaseerah inhaled sharply.

Nodding her head, she took another deep breath to ground herself. “Can I see her?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“She’s being prepared to be moved to the ICU,” Dr. Seda explained. “You can see her for a brief moment after. But before then, there’s something we need to discuss in my office. Can you come with me?”

Thud, thud.

Yaseerah felt a chill run down her spine, knowing nothing good could ever come out of going into the doctor’s private office.