Dare You To Love Me

«55» into the abyss

The mug slipped from Yaseerah’s hand, shattering on the kitchen floor, as the piercing beep of the monitor cut through the air.

She raced out of the kitchen before anyone else could react, or register what the beeping meant.

Ignoring the mess, the others rushed after her, asking a chorus of questions which remained unanswered.

Yaseerah’s heart thundered in her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she ascended the stairs.

Each step up the stairs felt like she was wading through quicksand, her legs heavy with dread.

When she reached the room, and saw Mamu’s still form and the flat line on the monitor, it felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs.

Her mind began to race, panic twisting her thoughts into a chaotic storm.

Please, not today!

“No, no, no,” she whispered, as if just denying the reality could change it.

“Mamu?” Yaseerah’s voice cracked as she dropped to her knees beside the bed, her hands shaking uncontrollably, as she tried and failed to reach for her mother’s hand.

“Move back, Kid. I need space.” Jawad’s voice was soft but underlined with tension and urgency, as he got on the bed, his hands moving with practiced precision, as he began to perform chest compressions.

“Albi,” Fou’ad whispered, his voice trembling slightly, as he reached out and pulled her away. “Let him work, please.”

In the background, he could hear the others muttering to themselves, a soft gasp here, a short sob there, but he paid no heed to them, focusing instead on his wife, whose entire world was shattering before their eyes.

Yaseerah clung to Fou’ad, her body trembling violently. She watched through a haze of tears as Jawad leaned down for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, then resumed the rhythmic, desperate compressions.

With each second that passed as she watched Jawad work, the hope in her heart was beginning to fluctuate, her breathing becoming more strained and rapid.

Through her tears, she saw the strain in Jawad’s expression, as he performed another round of mouth-to-mouth, then resumed the compressions with no response.

She saw the minute he gave up, pausing the compressions, his shoulders slumping as he moved away, exhaling forcefully, his gaze on his wristwatch.

“What are you doing?” she asked quietly. Then, louder and more frantic she repeated, “What are you doing? Why did you stop?”

Jawad’s silence spoke louder than any words, the finality of it settling over them like a shroud, as the loss began to sink in.

“No! You can’t stop!” she shook her head, her eyes wide with panic as she wrenched herself free from Fou’ad’s grasp.

“Kid...” Jawad trailed off, his expression pained when he finally looked up. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “There’s no heartbeat. Time of death–”

“Don’t you dare call it!” She screamed, pointing a finger at him in warning.

“Albi–” Fou’ad tried to hold her back, but she shook him off, and pushed past him.

“Move!” She cried out, her voice cracking, as she lunged for the bed, pushing Jawad aside with a strength she didn’t know she possessed.

“Yaseerah,” Abbad called out. “Stop it!”

“No!” She shook her head, as she frantically began performing chest compressions herself, her movements frantic and desperate. “I can save her! I have to save her!”