From Aliya to Hafiz

Fifty.

Aliya.

Taking a deep breath, I put my right foot outside, taking a step away from the hell that stripped so much away from me. In less than six months, I was thoroughly drained, my view on life-shattering and reconstructing itself. It had felt like there was no end in sight but now.

It was over.

I didn't want to think about anything, didn't want to feel anything, I just wanted to go somewhere where I could lay down and just, be. I didn't want to think about him the most. Because thinking about him made me feel so much that it made me uneasy.

I wanted to get away from here as soon as possible. But then a crash sounded and I was shocked into looking back. And then I was screaming and running, bag thrown aside.

Vaguely, I heard Ya Unais and Uncle running after me, with Uncle calling 911 but that was as far as I comprehended. All I could see was him, his pale face covered in blood, brows scrunched up.

"...Hafiz?" I gently touched his face, scared any drastic action would harm him further. His eyes remained closed, breathing getting fainter and fainter. "Haifiz open your eyes...please..." My hand slipped from his face to his chest.

His heart was beating slowly as if it would stop at any moment.

"Uncle," I choked out, eyes burning. "The ambulance."

"They're coming," he knelt beside me, his voice shaky. "How did this happen?" He reached out and touched Hafiz's head, his hand coming back red. The sight made the tremors wrecking my body worse, a wave of panic taking my breath away.

Ya Allah. Please, please don't take him away from me.

"Aliya," Ya Unais said softly.  "He's going to be fine."

I shook my head, gripping his hand tightly. "You don't know that," I cried, the tears rolling down my cheeks and leaving a hot trail. "He's not moving, he's bleeding, he's—"

"Stop panicking, what should one do in cases of musiba?" Ya Unais said, voice firm. "He's going to be fine, InshaAllah."

His sure and firm tone was like a light in the darkness and I sobered up. We sat around Hafiz's unconscious body waiting for the ambulance. Almost twenty minutes later and just when I was about to lose it again, sirens sounded and then Uncle and Unais were guiding the paramedics in.

In a blur of movement, Hafiz was strapped to the bed and wheeled into the ambulance.

"We need someone to ride along with us," one of the medics said, he was calm to the point of looking heartless. Or maybe I was just too panicked if the way my hands were shaking was any indication.

"I'll go with you! I'm his wife!" I ran over, adjusting my veil.

The man nodded, directing me into the car. The door closed, siren blaring as we rushed to the hospital. There were two other medics inside who busied around, hooking Hafiz to a heart monitor and attaching a drip to his left hand.

"Hello ma'am, I'm Blake Arnold, and I'll be asking you a few questions regarding the patient," The medic who guided me in said.

I nodded, gripping onto Hafiz's cold hand. "Yes, okay."

"What happened? How did he get like this?"

"We were downstairs when we heard the sound of falling. We saw him passed out on the floor when we looked back."

"He fell down the stairs?"

"Y-yes," I held his hand tighter, eyes burning again. "He's going to be fine, right?" I looked up at him, desperate.