Chapter 1
I have a recollection of holding something important in my hand but I couldn’t figure out what it was. The only thing I knew was it was something close to me. It may sound like an insomniac movie where the main character forgets all his past just because of sleep deprivation. But it wasn’t the case with me.
I woke up with a heavy dose of sedative. I could realize that my eyes were opening slowly, involuntarily. There was a huge LCD screen fixed on the wall, almost touching the ceiling, in front of me. The host in the reality show was trying to come up with some funny punch lines to manipulate their viewer which wasn’t funny at all. I tried to get up but half of my body was not properly moving when I noticed numerous strips of bandages tied all over my knees and my left hand was carefully placed inside a sling. I could see a small remote on the table that was attached to the bed I was kept. I didn’t even know which hospital I was in. I took the remote and pressed the button to browse for a channel that matches my interest. Meanwhile, a nurse came inside the room to ask if I needed some help. Her attire was inexplicably befitting that I instantly fell in love with that elegant beauty. The door looked as a frame of a painting when she entered. Having an unexpected sore throat, I tried pushing my breath harder enough to deliver a proper response for her but then, I just nodded to signal “Yes!” Even the dress of a nurse looked so comfortable when she was inside it.
I asked her, “How did I end up here?” She told me I had a destructive accident which my wife couldn’t survive in. The more she spoke, the more unpleasant it felt in my bones. I was the only person they could save as she went on. I wished her words were as serene as her but time wasn’t on my side. She was about to ask me how can she help me, I instructed her to turn off the TV as well as the room light. Her elegant nature darkened when she turned off everything around me. As she closed the door, I could feel the night oozing through the window and sharing a part of its darkness with me. The silence of the night was so telling about the flow I was having in my blood that I felt I was one of it.
All I could do was remember her face. I missed her so much that I hated this feeling of missing her. I don’t want to miss her; I want her in front of me beside my bed holding my hands. I never felt so wordless to describe how I was feeling each moment in that dark room that I could even number them. I never imagined that someone’s memory could have such pounding effect that was hammering my brain invariably. I wished I was dead too. Maybe the last thing I was holding in my hand was her hands.
