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Footsteps. How many footsteps would she count every time she walked down that hallway.
One. Two. Three.
The sounds of doctors and nurses rushing down hallways blurred past her. People crying or asking the hospital staff questions surrounded her.
Four. Five. Six.
A feeling of a familiar dread filled her lungs as if she was drowning. A hitch in her breath sent a wave of euphoria as a surreal feeling wrapped around her vision. She lost all feeling as her body trudged through the halls on automatic.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
The smell of a hospital was unsettling, abnormal. It caused dissension from what is normal. People came to a hospital. People died in a hospital.
Ten…
The door in front of her was latched shut. A moment or two passed before she gripped the door handle and pushed open the door. A faint light illuminated the room and it was hard to make out the details in the shadows. She knew why she was here. She knew what was inside. Her mind wanted to deny the truth of what was awaiting before her. The image in front of her felt and looked so foreign, yet it existed. There was no denying it. The response she had was to phase through her feelings. Lock them up. Avoid any acknowledgement of humanity. How else would she get through it? It was as if it never happened. However the visions never lied to her. It was never just a bad dream.
She walked further into the room.
There she was. Her mother was lying still as her chest rose slowly. Her breathing was wrong. Her exhalations were too spread out. Looking over her body, wires were hooked up to her. Her skin was punctured with needles as tubes fed her God knows what. A lonely lamp lit the room and it all seemed to shine on her mother. She was sleeping. Her face was so peaceful and calm. Years of pain and fighting, years of sacrifice and holding out to hope, all made this moment unfair. What was her life worth if it just led to this? But it was this moment that she deserved. She finally gets to rest after years of torment. How much longer would she have?
Her face looked wrong, but this was the most beautiful that her mother ever looked. Flashes of her mom with curly hair waving in the air that framed a beautiful, round face came to mind. Her vibrant brown eyes held such love and compassion. Her smile was unforgettable as she loved every moment with her family.
Aisha did not know when she had sat down. The images of her mom left her mind as she looked down at the face before her. Hair cut short, face pale, sweat perspiring around her forehead. Wrinkles outlined her facial features. A mere shell of the person she was. Yet, this person was her mother. She could never be anything less than perfect.
Her mother stirred beneath her as she looked up into her eyes. A faint smile spread across her face as she recognized her. She tried to speak but could only force a croaked sound.
“Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?” Aisha asked gingerly, loud enough to hear but her voice barely forced much effort.
Her mother shook her head in acknowledgment. It was enough. It was enough to know that she could still hear her, still communicate to her. On the bedside table there was a glass of water with a straw set into it. Grabbing it, the straw was pressed to her mother’s lips but no response was made.
“I’ve got some water right here. Wanna take a sip?”
Aisha’s mother moved to the sound of her voice. Appearing to notice the straw, her mother worked to wrap her lips around it. It seemed to take her a great deal of energy to manage something so small. After sipping a bit of water, the glass was set back on the bedside table.
“How’re you doing? How do you feel?” Aisha rubbed her mother’s arm. Her mother leaned her head over on the pillow, her expression cast into the room.
She rubbed her mom’s arm a little firmer, “Hey, you look so beautiful.”
Her mom turned to look at her as a light came back into her eyes, those same lively eyes as the color seemed to become brighter. Her mother spoke, “I missed you. Keep a girl waiting long don’t you, Roger.”
A blur came over Aisha as she found herself standing in the corner of the room. She saw her father lean down to kiss her mother. “Sorry baby, I got here as fast as I could. Aisha is still at school. I didn’t want to… What if you…”
Her father began to cry, “Aisha will probably never forgive me.”
Aisha felt her own tears begin to fall down her face. All she could do was stand there and watch. Her mother spoke up again, “She loves you, Roger. Though... I wish I could see her one last time.”
“Delilah, don’t say that. You’re gonna be alright. You’re gonna get through this,” her father was crying as he held her hands in his.
Her mother leaned her head over on the pillow again as her expression became blank again. Panicking her father spoke to mom again, “Delilah... Delilah! Stay with me now!” Aisha had never seen her father lose his composure like this. The fear of his mother’s mortality filled him. Her mother was unresponsive and her eyes drifted off as the machine attached to her showed her heartbeat slowing down.
“Mom!” Aisha rushed to her mother’s side, crouched on her knees. Her body racked with anger, fear, sadness. Aisha’s face was level with her mother’s. She choked out sobs. She let the tears pour as it fell down her cheeks, leaving small trails that burned as the cool air touched the streaks. Aisha did not wish for more time. She did not plead to whatever god to save her mother. All Aisha could think was that she wanted her mother to have peace. She hoped that death would take her so she was no longer stuck in limbo.
“Aisha,” a soft voice emitted from her mother. Looking at her mother’s eyes, Aisha saw those warm hazel eyes stare back at her. “There you are. I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”
Aisha responded off instinct, damn whatever logic or reality she was in, “I’m here, Mama. I had to be here for you. I’ve wanted to see you again for so long.”
“I love you,” her mother reached a hand up to Aisha’s cheek.
“I love you too, Mama,” Aisha nuzzled into her mother’s hand.
Aisha overheard her father mutter softly, “Aisha isn’t here baby.”
Looking at her father, Aisha saw her dad looking around the room in confusion. He looked through Aisha as if she wasn’t there.
Her mother continued to look at Aisha as the smile slowly drifted away. Her breathing slowed down as the world around Aisha halted. The pain in Aisha’s chest hurt and the tears resurfaced as the realization set into Aisha’s mind.
“Goodbye, Mama…”
