I was in the car with them when we beat all land speed records possible on the way to the hospital. The day started pretty warm, then temperatures soared to the usual 34 by mid-day. The sky turned dark soon after. Clouds were congregating above as if to contemplate the proper course of action to prevent the sky from falling. Then it started to drizzle after almost a week, and soon drizzle came to a downpour with thunder, which made everything seem even more out of place. Perhaps it was just because i have gotten so used to taking a beating from the sun day after day that a downpour could provoke such a feeling.
We screamed pass another junction without first stopping for even the slightest of glances for oncoming vehicles. We reached the hospital after the longest car ride ever, that was what it felt like at least. Every car overtook lasted hours. Every junction passed made things feel graver. Every traffic congestion made the situation seem beyond repair. Everything that we passed on the road took a little hope away. So much that we were without any when we walked into the reception area.
I did not recognized them. Uncle and Auntie refered to them as another branch in the family. Like the branches of the grip of cancer. They clutch at you so hard it squeezes every breath out of your fragile figure. When you are with not much left, you claw for your life. It pulls you down as you drown in a space so ironically full of the very air that feeds you. Yet, it is hopeless. You are going nowhere but down and soon, you tire out and hope everything could end, as much as you will to fight, you understand the futility and surrender.
There were tears in their eyes when they mumbled gibberish to Uncle and Auntie. It struck me like the coldest steel would when it penetrates your chest. It sunk and i felt sick. I sprinted towards the ward, and yet, i did not seem to be running. Every step i took seem to take me nowhere. As if i were floating and all the energy i could muster into a single leap merely inched me forward. Time stood still and laughed at my silly actions. So did everything else.
I saw her immediately as i turned into the ward. Her face was covered with the thinnest of duvets. There was a slit where her mouth was, and the feeding tube still firmly attached as if that would help anymore. Her mouth was just slightly ajar showing the white of her teeth. Yet still so graceful and beautiful. Death took her colour away, but must have been fuming with the look of life she still possessed.
Relatives sat around the bed sniffling while Auntie was crying amongst them. They stroke her soft hair underneath the covers half hoping for a response. The slightest twitch would prove more than enough. We knew that was impossible. Uncle struck a forlorn figure at the back of the room. He was trying to keep a straight face, or simply trying to take in the gravity of what happened. Whatever it was, i was sure he was fighting it hard and loss, because tears finally carved their way down his leathery cheek.
Immediately, she started twitching. The relatives jumped back startled and it took them some time to realise that it was a good thing. I knew she was not coming back. She was merely spasming when her muscles harden. I took her hand gently and her fingers wrapped around mine with the spasms. That was the last i would ever feel her skin, and the tugging, though artificial, was enough for me. She soon bled from her eyes and the doctor had to come in to drain it. I stayed through it, too tired to cry anymore and whispered my final goodbye.
I left the building and flagged down a cab. When i got it, Uncle was in it too. Raspily, he told me he wanted to talk. I could not say a single word with a bone-dry throat. It hurt with the slightest attempt to offer a word and i stopped trying. Uncle told me he expected what had happened. He paused. When he started again, it was between sniffles. He told me what his friend had told him earlier. That when the day is dark, and when it rains, a man will lose his daughter.
When The Day Is Dark
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Posted by hodilun at 10:35 PM 3 comments
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)