She felt breathless. No, not the kind you experience when you are shocked or enchanted. The literal one. She was feeling breathless, literally. Every breath seemed too heavy for her to carry.
She rushed to the washroom. She looked into the mirror only to find a pale, tired and exhausted face instead of the glistening skin which she was once proud of.
Tears gushed out of the river of her eye. She ran her fingers across her face to wipe off the melancholic waterfall.
Mariam looked at her reflection and told it stay strong. Blood seemed to be oozing out of her nose. She felt weak, her determination to fight had now become fragile.
She crawled her way to her bedroom just like how a toddler learns to walk. After making it there, she grabbed her cellphone and called her doctor.
But her heartbeat gave up even before the line got connected.
Mariam woke up. She was scared, bewildered and hope-less. She looked at the photograph that lay beside her bed. Azaan's warm smile,somehow, seemed to soothe her. Opening her drawer, she took her medicine. She took a hope to stay alive.
