How To Love✓

40.

Amara

I am met with the noise of sirens and people yelling my name. Where am I? Those words radiate out my thoughts but never touching my lips. Panic engulfs me, but I am restricted to the stretcher. Will she be okay?" I hear his voice asking the paramedic. I am dazed, confused, and barely aware of my surroundings, but I keep my eyes close. Never leave my side races from my thoughts down to my mouth, but nothing was heard. Then, there was complete darkness and my brain went unconscious.

Then I woke up. This time, in a room. The room was silent apart from my heavy breathing and the beep beep sound you often hear in hospitals that indicates you're alive. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting in attempt to sharpen the blurred images before me. I glanced around and took in the deserted, blue and white colour schemed hospital bedroom.

How long have I been here? I shut my eyes, trying to remember what had exactly happened. Then it all hits me with a bang. The memory of it all starts to occupy my thoughts.

Who brought me here?

Out of impulse, my hand travels to my face, pressing the throbbing area on my right temple. I felt a scar and flinched at the pain. I tried to get up. Once I stepped on the cold, white tiles, I instantly fell back on to the bed. My body, engulfed in pain as if objecting my decision to stand up. I lay there pathetically, waiting for the pain to wash away. Staring at the ceiling, illuminated with a white fluorescent light. Perhaps waiting for some help by the hospital staff I still didn't know how I got here, who took me here, how long I've been here.

It was supposed to be a simple surgery. I had a strange pain in my ribcage and had suspicions that it was my collapsed lung that has been prepared. I knew it was going to happen, I just didn't expect to be alive after it all.

Grace to God.

I hadn't realised that I was extremely thirsty. My tongue was dried up and stuck to the roof of my mouth. I couldnt swallow. I look to the table next to me and saw one of those pitchers and was hoping that there would be water in it. I struggle a bit and sluggishly tested my grip since it's been God knows how long I've been unconscious. When I touched each finger to my palm and things were working alright, I attempt to sit up. It was a slow, painful process, but I got there eventually. I reach over to the pitcher and thankfully, there was water in there. I drank it up and it tasted kind of stale.

Better than nothing, but I definitely needed more.

My series of questions were interrupted as a man walks in the room with a phone to his ear. By his looks and posture I could tell he was in his late 40's-early 50's. Recognising that I was awake, he ends the call and beams brightly. "Ah, you're awake! How do you feel Amara?" he queries and I wish he knew that I couldn't speak due to my dry throat.

I motion to my throat, hoping he comprehended what I was signaling. It took him a few seconds but then he clicked his fingers and smile. "I would've expected you to be thirsty. I'll just go fetch your parents and some water for you."

When he left, I lean back onto the bed. I close my eyes shut, trying to block everything out. As much as I wished that I could rely on my brain to help me remember what transpired, I knew I needed the help of others to recall everything.

I turn my head when I hear the door open again and started to cry when I saw that it was my parents.

"Hey honey," she sniffs, hugging me gently as she approached me, not wanting to upset the tubes and cords that were hooked onto me.

"Here's the water you wanted," the man from before hands me a bottle of cold water and I instantly down the whole bottle down. I felt relief wash over my body as it hit the back of my throat.