°°°
It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember
°°°
Aamirah paced the linoleum hallway of the hospital, her fingers clenched tightly around the edge of her coat.
The sterile smell of antiseptic mixed with the faint hum of distant machinery created a disorienting backdrop to her thoughts.
Each step echoed off the empty walls, amplifying her sense of isolation.
She passed by rows of closed doors, each one a silent witness to the stories unfolding inside. The occasional nurse or doctor passed by, their faces hidden behind masks, adding to the anonymity of her surroundings.
Her gaze flitted between the signs and the floor, her mind racing with the gravity of her parents' condition.
Despite the reassurances from doctors that her condition was stable, the uncertainty gnawed at Aamirah.
Her father, who was usually the pillar of strength, was now crumpled at hospitals bed, her mother is barely conscious except for fragmented conversations with the medical staff.
Aamirah reached the end of the hall and leaned against the cool wall, taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes, trying to center herself, but the images of her parents in vulnerable states crowded her thoughts.
She could still see her mother’s frail smile before the illness had taken its toll, and her father’s eyes, which had always held a spark of unyielding hope, now dimmed by fatigue.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her from her thoughts. It was a message from her uncle, who had been working overseas and was trying to catch a flight home.
She read his words, a brief mix of encouragement and concern, and felt a pang of guilt for not being able to ease his anxiety.
Aamirah’s eyes drifted to the nearest waiting area, where a few people sat in quiet contemplation. She envied their calm, though she knew their worries were likely as heavy as her own.
The waiting room television droned on, its volume too low to hear, but its presence an unwelcomed distraction.
Determined not to lose her composure, she straightened her shoulders and made her way back towards the main lobby. She needed to stay strong, not just for her parents but for herself and her sister.
She resolved to find a quiet corner where she could sit and focus, a place to gather her thoughts and prepare for whatever came next.
As she walked, the heaviness in her chest seemed to lift just slightly, replaced by a fragile sense of hope.
She was there for her family, and no matter how uncertain the future seemed, she would be their rock, just as they had always been hers.
°°°
Aamirah wandered through the hospital’s echoing hallways, her steps heavy with anxiety. The sterile white walls seemed to close in on her as she passed by endless rows of closed doors.
The familiar beeping of machines and the murmur of distant voices provided a constant backdrop, heightening her sense of isolation. Her parents had been in a car accident, and the waiting was unbearable.
She found a quiet corner near the hospital’s main entrance and pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages with shaking hands.
She had been avoiding her friends, not wanting to worry them with her chaos, but she needed someone to lean on. With a deep breath, she dialed Sarah's number. After a few rings, her friend’s voice answered, full of concern.
YOU ARE READING
𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬
Romans••• "Just because I haven't touched you as a husband should, that doesn't mean I won't," he said, his voice low and menacing. Her knees felt weak, and she didn't dare move from where she stood, his presence overwhelming her completely. She could b...
