Chapter 14

Adlan

It was, inarguably, one of the most difficult to watch, having seen Laura plummet. I felt helpless as I stood outside the hospital room, listening to her plead with her brother to wake up. The severity of her condition made an impact on me, and I realized that whatever power I would have, I should utilize this to help her.

“Hey," I said, creeping up beside her. Looking into her watery, searching eyes, her pain resonated in my very being. “You’re not alone, okay? I’m right here.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without him,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

I squeezed her hand, trying to offer comfort. “You won’t have to find out. We’re going to get through this together.”

“I can’t lose him, Adlan. He's all that's left,” she cried, her eyes pleading.

“You won’t lose him. He’s a fighter just like you. You've both been through too much to lose him, I comforted her, wishing I could take her pain away.

We remained mute for a while, the sound of the hospital filling the air. Out of a desperate need to put a good story on the floor, I conjured something that made for good story but my mind started to run wild. All I could do was be there for her.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor returned. “You can go in now, but only for a few minutes, he said, gesturing for Laura to step inside.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

In that I witnessed her enter and protective feelings welled over me. I wanted to keep her away from all the pain, from all the harsh truth that life can turn simply in­suffer­able.

Lying in the bed of the bedside of her brother, I went over them from kneeling at her side I retraced the drills to avoid disturbing her privacy but the aura could not be avoided. I’d grown to care for her in a way I hadn’t anticipated, and seeing her in such distress made my heart ache.

Instantly after from the sides, Laura, who was looking transparent, exited the room, while lasting gaze fixed on her face. “He’s still unconscious, but they said he’s stable.”

I nodded, relieved to hear it. “That’s good. He’s strong, just like you.”

“Thanks for coming," she stated, regaining composure.

“I’ll always be here for you, Laura. It's not necessary for you to manage it all alone,” I said, before a mesh of shared feeling began to build up and strengthen.

However, we lost the hours of pondering about, what else might be in the distance yet to come, in contemplating her brother, contemplating us, and contemplating good experience. It was bittersweet, but also made me reflect on what sort of help a family might offer, and indeed Laura's strength resonated.

As night fell, I knew she was exhausted. “You should try to get some rest, I suggested gently. “I can stay here if you’d like.”

“I can’t leave him, she said,” her voice firm but tired.

I understood. “Then let me help. I’ll grab some coffee and snacks. You need to take care of yourself too.”

She hesitated but then nodded. “Okay. Just don’t be long.”

I spent a couple of minutes squeezing from the other side to the almost mad motion of the hospital corridors. I also couldn't help but keep coming back to the fact that I was falling deeper and deeper in love with her. She was a girl of strong character and burning desire, full of passion, but buried deep beneath all her pain, there would be something to sparkle in the darkness.

Getting up with coffee, I wandered back to find Laura playing back there with Christian's fingers crossed. I laid out the food on the table in front of her, and just sat there, looking at her as though she's under a trance.

“Thank you,” the female voice replied,clinging to her own silhouette of her brother. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“There's no way you'll ever find out,” I said, and I covered my hand over hers.

We sat in silence, the weight of the situation heavy but somehow manageable together. I did of course understand that it would not simply be a cinch and the answer was, okay, we'd work it out and as long as we had each other it would be ok.

“Laura,” I said softly, breaking the silence. “Whatever happens, I’m here. Always.”

Looking up at me, she beamed with appreciation. “I know and that means everything.”

Sitting next to her, I found that a wave of calm swept over me. Shoulder to shoulder we would ride out the storm and together, I would do my best to make sure that she would not have to face it alone.

Stern and sterile hospital lights shrouded everything in the darkness of the night, and anxiety invaded the atmosphere. Laura leaned in very close, trembling fingers holding Christian's hand, whispering encouraging words of healing, for the fear in the room was palpable. I watched her as she wept, and it hurt my heart for both of them.

Then the once steady sound of heart monitor beeping began to fade and change into a terrifying alarm that marked the very premature end of the night. Laura jerked her head up, eyes wide with horror. "What's happening?"

Before I could respond, there came nursing personnel who swept into the room and shoved me aside. "Clear the area," cried one, and I stepped back, heart in a race.

"Laura!" I called after her, but she was already up, mouth a mess of fear as she looked at the medical team trying to help her brother.

"Christian!" she sobbed, clutching the edges of her bed.

I felt impotent as a heavy weight of impossible emotional turmoil built up inside me while the scene unfolded.

The doctor came out again, looking serious, and I seized a glimpse of something that made my blood turn cold. "We have to prepare for the worst," he said, and in that moment, my worst fears materialized, leaving us all on the brink of despair.