ITS TOO MANY OF YALL COMMENTING AND NOT LIKING! IT AINT HARD TO DO BOTH!
ᴀᴜʙʀᴇʏ 'ᴅʀᴀᴋᴇ' ɢʀᴀʜᴀᴍ
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I was sitting in my usual spot—hoodie up, slouched in the chair, right next to Onika's bed. My fingers stayed laced with hers, even if she hadn't moved once. My eyes were dry from too many sleepless nights, yet somehow they still burned, still ached.
The room had become routine. But when the door opened this time and I looked up, the sight of my mom walking in hit me different.
I stood up immediately, not saying anything at first as I walked straight into her arms. That hug was different. It was long. It was deep. The kind of hug that says everything without a single word. The kind that holds you up when you're falling apart.
"Thanks for coming, Ma," I said, voice low, scratchy—like it hadn't been used in hours even though my head had been screaming nonstop.
She held me tighter before we finally let go. I went back to the chair like I always did, sinking into it that felt heavier every day. My eyes locked back onto Onika, lying still in that hospital bed.
Her skin pale, her bruises darker now as they started healing.
But still... no movement.
My mom sat her things down gently, then pulled the seat beside me closer. She reached over and rested her hand softly over mine, her thumb brushing back and forth like she used to when I was a kid and trying not to cry.
"I'm sorry, baby," she said gently.
I turned my head to look at her for a second, then back to Onika. I reached up, swiping under my eye fast—but a tear slipped past my fingers anyway.
"Stop hiding your tears, Aubrey," she said softly. "Let them out."
"I'm tired of crying, Ma..." I mumbled, swallowing hard. "But I can't stop."
She didn't say anything right away. Just kept holding my hand like she was trying to transfer some of her strength into me.
The room went quiet again, the only sound the steady rhythm of the monitor and Onika's breathing, which was only there because of the machines.
After a long moment, she spoke again, this time her voice quieter.
"Are they saying she's in a coma?"
That question hit like a brick.
I closed my eyes, jaw clenching as I tried to stop my voice from shaking again. Because I didn't know the answer. And that was what scared me most.
"They haven't told me anything since I've been here about that, and I hope not," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. I let out a heavy breath and leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees. I chewed on my bottom lip, staring at Onika, her body still so still, too still. The woman who was always moving, always talking, always laughing.
