Ending of the last chapter

Ending of the last chapter

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WpMetadataReadLengkap Jum, Mei 20, 202210m
Putting a fullstop and moving on to the next phase/next part of life is difficult. Especially when that chapter ended on a sad note. ---- Shikha, an 18 year old girl, going through emotions even the adults haven't mastered dealing with. Grief. A 5-letter-word. Reaches so deep inside you, that after a point it consumes you. It becomes you. Sasha has been in a terrible accident and is now hospitalized, the only thing doctor says can be done is to wait. But nobody tells how long to wait? Will waiting change the circumstances? I don't have the answers to that, but I wait. I go to her everyday and wait for her, with her. But I feel guilty as well. Guilty for the position she is in right now. --- Sneak Peek : 3 years ago : I lay on the bed waiting for sleep to take me, but it continues to deny me the comfort I seek. It's been months but my brain denies processing the fact that she is fighting somewhere between life and death, while we wait. The doctors' words, continuously rings in my ear "All we can do is wait." A dry laugh which sounds more like a choked sob leaves my mouth as I turn to my left and let the tears trace down their regular path.
Seluruh Hak Cipta Dilindungi Undang-Undang
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The door opens and closes thirty times in five minutes, the table clutters endlessly. What's happening? Why am I being held by two officers in the corner of a counseling clinic? Is this an interrogation ground now? Shadows race past me, like mirages in a desert, faces flicker into view only to vanish the next second. The officers speak, but I can't hear them. My senses are failing me. Something inside me is taking control, and I might faint. If I wake up in a hospital, will this still be a nightmare, or something scripted? The city woke to devastation. The news spread like wildfire-Dr. Nadia, a champion for human rights, had been murdered in this very clinic. Yesterday, she voiced her fear for her life; no one listened. Now, she's gone. The press churned out articles minute by minute, TV channels broadcast live updates, and the internet roared with outrage. Police teams haven't slept. Top agents were deployed. That's how I met Inspectors Carla and Javed-while being held as both the prime suspect and the sole witness to this chaos. Dr. Nadia wasn't just a leader; she was a symbol of hope. She fought tirelessly for the oppressed, for justice, for rights the government ignored. Yet, she seemed to know her time was near. A week ago, she hinted at it but continued her fight. Yesterday, she paid the price-her life. Now, the city mourns her loss, consumed by guilt for ignoring her cries for help. The last time I saw Nadia, she was here, in this clinic. She didn't want to live. She seemed tired, desperate for respite. How does someone so adept at convincing others to hold on end up wanting to let go? Her death feels like a betrayal. She trusted us, and we failed her. I failed her. Now, it's on me to prove this was no accident-a cold-blooded murder. Or was it?

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