CHAPTER 1: BETWEEN HOPE AND DESPAIR

The sterile scent of the hospital weighed heavily in the air, amplifying my anxiety. It feels like each moment will take forever while waiting for the doctor's prognosis on my grandmother's condition.

I looked down, my hands are still trembling remembering how the joyous celebration had turned into a sudden turmoil. It was suppose to be a night of happiness, not this.

Grandma's face when she fainted still linger on my mind. My heart began to race when I heard a clicking sound.

With a grave expression, the doctor emerged from the emergency room, seems like the weight of the situation etched on his face. "I regret to inform you that the patient is currently in a state of coma," he solemnly announced. "We are doing everything we can, but the circumstances are delicate."

I bit my lips suppressing myself to cry, Aunt Fernanda on the other hand gasped at the news as the doctor continued his words,

"After careful consideration, it has been recommended that we transfer the patient to a private room for personalized care. However, rest assured that we will do everything in our power to ensure her comfort. You and your family can soon join her."

Bracing myself from the emotional journey, I stood on the periphery as my other relatives huddled around the doctor, lost in their own worries and whispers.

In the collective concern for my grandmother, they seemed to disregard me. But I'm already used to it.

Minutes later, the doctor announced that my grandmother had been transferred.

Without making a sound, I trailed behind the group as they made their way to the secluded room. The familial ties between them appeared to strengthen, but for me a growing disconnection from them lingered.

My efforts to join in their conversation were met with their fleeting glances and absent-minded nods.

Aunt Fernanda's attention was fixed on the doctor as she asked, "What are our next steps? Is there anything we can do to make her more comfortable?"

Meanwhile, my Uncle, Aunt Fernanda's husband expressed his worries, "Will she regain consciousness soon?"

Their endless stream of questions and concerns filled the room, my voice presence faded into the background. Surrounded by a chorus of anxious voices, I couldn't help but feel isolated, completely alone.

As the family gathered closely, living me behind. A warmed hand touches mind. It was Jason who stood out as my unwavering knight. Just by his mere presence, it already provided a calming sense of security within me, serves as a barrier against the overwhelming tide of emotions. How I love him so much.

"I'm here for you, Celicia. You can always count on me," he whispered to my ear. His warm gesture fills me, despite the thousands of agony inside me.

Despite the charged atmosphere and the family's hushed conversations, my presence went unnoticed.

I whispered to myself, "Grandma, I need you now more than ever. Please wake up."

They gathered around the frail figure lying in the bed, I stood on the sidelines with Jason, feeling like an outsider in my own heart-wrenching story.

The room transformed into a space of shared concern, but for me, it was a lonely journey through fear and uncertainty. In the midst of this emotional storm, Jason's silent support served as a comforting anchor.

As the somber news settled within the room, one by one, family members began to take their leave.

Aunt Fernanda, the last to leave, approached me, her gaze a mixture of disdain and disinterest. "You should be the one leaving," she muttered under her breath before exiting the room, leaving me to grapple with the lingering sting of rejection.

Leila, my cousin, lingered for a moment, her eyes betraying a long-standing animosity.

"You always think you're the center of attention, don't you? This is just another one of your dramatic acts, pathetic" she scoffed, echoing the sentiments of her mother.

Unable to respond, I stood in the wake of their departure, feeling like an outcast even in my family's darkest hour. Jason, sensing my distress, offered a supportive presence, but the weight of familial conflict bore down on my shoulders.

"I will just buy us some food to eat, I'll be back, Okay?" Jason reassured me with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Unable to speak, I simply nodded, and then Jason left the room, closing the door gently.

Though the party seemed like a distant memory in my head, I remained in the same elegant outfit I had worn earlier. The vibrant colors and sparkling details that had once symbolized the joyous celebration now felt strangely out of place inside this hospital room.

My emotions starts to overwhelmed me as tears gathered in my eyes. I took a deep breath before making my way towards my grandmother's bedside.

The room enveloped me in a sterile silence, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of machines monitoring my grandmother's fragile state. As I clasped her frail hand in mine, memories flooded my mind – the laughter, the shared secrets, the unwavering love she had always given.

Tears welled up, blurring my vision as I spoke to her, "You've always been my strength, Grandma. Now it's my turn to be yours. Please, find your way back. Please...”

The monitors hummed in response, indifferent to my emotional plea echoing within this large hospital room. Time seemed suspended as I continued to pour my heart out, each word a desperate plea for a response that felt agonizingly elusive.

Alone again, I continued talking to Grandma, the words a lifeline in the silence. The room echoed with the hollowness of my solitude.

Almost 30 minutes later, the door creaked open, and Jason reentered the room. His eyes met mine, but something seems off. "Sorry I took so long, there was a line at the cafeteria," he explained, avoiding my gaze.

I furrowed my brows, a sense of unease settling in my stomach. "Is everything okay, Jason? You seem a bit off," I asked, searching for any hint in his expression.

He offered a tight smile, dismissing my concern. "Yeah, just a hectic moment out there. Don't worry about it."

Despite his reassurance, a lingering doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, the unspoken words hanging in the air like an unanswered question.

"Jason," I pressed, my voice tinged with worry, "you're not telling me something. What happened out there?"

His eyes darted away, and he replied with a vague excuse, "Just some work stuff, nothing important. Let's focus on your grandmother."

The unease intensified as I sensed the evasion. "Jason, we've always been honest with each other. Please, tell me what's going on."

He hesitated, then finally said, "It's really nothing, Celicia. Just a minor hiccup at work, nothing for you to worry about."

But his words held a weight I couldn't ignore, and the unspoken tension lingered between us, leaving a trace of uncertainty in the air.

***

Days and nights blurred into a silent vigil by my grandmother's bedside. I whispered words of encouragement, desperately recalling cherished memories, hoping to rouse the woman who had always been my pillar of strength.

Despite my earnest attempts, the comatose state persisted, and despair took residence in my heart. My pleas echoed in the sterile room, a desperate soundtrack to the unyielding silence that enveloped us.

The room's solemnity shattered as Aunt Fernanda entered, her disdain evident in the sharp lines of her expression. "Celicia," she spat, the name carrying an undercurrent of resentment. "You always find a way to ruin things, don't you?"

I stiffened, the weight of her words hanging in the air. "What are you talking about?" I responded, my voice tinged with confusion and hurt.

Her eyes bore into mine, a simmering anger beneath the surface. "You, always clinging to Mother as if she owes you something. We all know you're the reason she's in this condition. Your presence is nothing but a curse."

The accusation struck me like a physical blow, and I recoiled. "That's not fair, Aunt Fernanda. I've only ever tried to help and support Grandma."

She scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Help? Support? You're nothing more than a burden. Mother shouldn't have had to raise you. Look at what it's done to her!"

A lump formed in my throat as her harsh words echoed in the room. "I didn't ask to be born. I lost my parents, too, and Grandma has been my only family."

Her eyes narrowed with contempt. "Grow up, Celicia. Stop pretending like you're the victim. You're just a constant reminder of the pain and loss."

The internal conflict raged within me, a storm of emotions threatening to spill over. "I never wanted to be a burden," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Aunt Fernanda's scornful laughter sliced through the room, each word a dagger aimed at my heart. "You're nothing but a constant burden, Celicia. Mother is suffering because of you. Maybe it's time you face the harsh truth and get out of our life."