She Won't Survive

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Aamir Hassan slid down the wall he was leaning against, all his strength and courage drained from him. His eyes were haunted and his clothes stained with blood, lots and lots of blood. His wife's blood. His wife who was behind the closed doors in the Emergency Room, a few feet away from where he was sitting on the floor.

He knew, till his dying day he would never be able to forget the visual of watching his wife getting hit by the truck. Of her flying through the air by the impact and the sickening sound of her head hitting the pavement hard as she landed. He had been frozen, rooted to the spot where he stood as he watched her meet with the accident that could possibly kill her.

He had driven her to this. He was responsible for every pain she felt for over two years of their marriage. And now he had given her the final push, albeit indirectly. In his heart he prayed hard for her to pull through this, as she had pulled through every hardship he threw her way. But the rational part of his brain argued that there was no way anyone could possibly survive that. It was impossible.

"Mr Hassan?"

He jumped up at the sound of his name, hoping it would be the doctor coming out to tell him that she made it. To his disappointment, it was a nurse.

"Sir, I'll only take a minute. There is some paperwork we need to go over. You need to sign this form..."

"Just give me the damn paper, I'll sign it." He snapped at her.

"But sir, please allow me to explain to you what this..."

"I don't care."

"But sir..."

"SHUT THE HELL UP AND GIVE ME THE DAMN PAPER! I know its a damn consent form to acknowledge that if my wife dies your damned hospital isn't responsible! I get it!" He snatched the paper out of her hand and scribbled his signature before thrusting the papers back at the nurse and screamed, "just get in there and do your work. Do whatever it takes to make sure my wife is alright!"

He watched the nurse hurry back. He couldn't stand it anymore. He knew it. She was dying. She wouldn't make it. The pain in his chest was getting harder and harder to breathe around. He fell on his knees, tears pouring down his face as his body shook with silent sobs. He had killed her. He had killed the best thing that ever happened to him.

Two hours later, he was sitting against the same wall. His tears had run dry, all hope had deserted him. He was still as clueless about her condition as he was when he brought he in. He knew she was strong. Every single time he screamed at her, and 'punished' her for being weak, he knew in his heart that he was lying. The strength in her quiet spirit manifested itself in small ways, little things that left him completely unsure of himself. At this possible end of their married life he was left with nothing, no happy memories, no laughter and joy of sharing his world with someone special. He was only left with unbearable guilt, and unending sadness.

He watched as his family came rushing into the hospital. They looked around frantically as they spotted him and then came running to him. Immediately his mother crouched down beside him and asked, "Aamir, what happened?"

"Accident." He managed to whisper, unable to recognise his own hoarse voice. "Head injury. L..lots of bl..blood. Don't know.. if sh...she'll make it." He broke down again, unable to contain his grief any longer. His mother wrapped her arms around him whispering words of hope, but his heart had already accepted the punishment being meted out to him. He had hurt the single most beautiful thing in his life repeatedly, and now he was to suffer a lifetime without her.

He dared not look at his father, for he knew that the man who loved his daughter-in-law as if his own flesh and blood would probably kill him. His father had been right all along. Their marriage had been a big mistake, because she deserved so much more better.

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