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Amyra.
I left the letter on purpose. It had an address. That's all.
When Mithila left, I was heartbroken. I couldn't eat properly. She went from making me believe I was her everything, to pretending I didn't exist, and that hurt.
Way more than other things did.
I looked at Mithila from the corner, and watched as she furrowed her eyebrows. A small smile slipped onto my face, and I walked away. I left.
Mithila.
I read the letter over and over again. The address seemed so familiar yet so unknown. The doctor called out my name and I quickly stood up, folding the piece of paper clumsily and shoving it inside my pocket, and followed him quietly; "They haven't woken up yet, but they're out of surgery. Your mom's condition is a bit complicated, though." He patted my shoulder and pulled up his mask again, before walking away. I stood in front of the gate of my parent's room, my hands clutched into fists by my sides. My eyes stung with unshed tears, and my throat burned with unsaid words and unheard screams. I never got to tell them anything.
"You should go, visiting hours are over. We'll give you a call if they wake up." A nurse said, before she walked inside and locked the door. I sniffled, before muttering a goodbye to their resting forms, before picking up my stuff. I still had the keys to my old car.
I got a bus to my old neighbourhood. I looked around for my mom's umbrella pot, the one that had the extra key under it. I stepped into my house and locked the door behind me; the house was exactly the same. I threw my bag on the floor, and went upto my room, my stuff was untouched; the canvas' I had painted were still on the walls, my bulletin boards with withered post- it noted was opposite to my bed, and my blanket was still placed neatly on the bed; my high school books were resting on the table next to my bed. The clock had stilled; the time wasn't passing; 7:45 am.
I put the clock in the drawer, and flopped down on my bed, sighing in content as my stiff body loosened up a little after seven hours of sitting in the same hospital seat.
I took out the crumpled piece of paper and typed the address into google maps. It was a hospital. Why would she leave me the address for a hospital? I scoffed at the address and shook my head lightly, and laid down on the bed, closing my eyes, Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex played on the walkman I had plugged into my ears, and I softly sang along to the words. My parents had always listened to songs like this. I remember being six and peering out from behind the door of my living room, seeing my mom and dad carefully take out the vinyls from their covers and placing it on the gramophone and dancing along to the slow beat. They used to be happy.
When dad left for The Armed Forces, though, everything changed. My mom didn't smile as much anymore, she began drinking more, she never look at us with the adoring gaze in her eyes anymore. She thought of us as the biggest mistake she ever made. She hated my brother because he was a copy of our dad. He had the same brown eyes dad had, the same dimpled smile dad had. She drowned herself in work, so much, that she forgot about the three kids of hers, who were desperate to have their mother back.
The song was abruptly cut off by sound of my phone's ringtone, echoing through the almost- empty house. I should've gone to a hotel. I slid left, and picked up the call, placing the phone on my ear, balancing it between my shoulder and my ear, my other hand pausing the tape in the walkman.
"Hello?" my voice wavered in the end, and I pulled the phone back, looking at the number. The Hospital.
"Is is Mithila? we called to inform you...that both your mother has woken up. Do you think you can make it to the hospital tonight or do you want to see her tomorrow?"
"Tonight, please."
"Extra visiting hours end in to hours, make it quick."
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