The hallway had as much personality as the rest of the hospital. The floor is slate grey and the walls dove. above the ceiling was made from those polystyrene squares laid on a grid-like frame.
the light was too bright for my eyes after the darkening gloom outside, I find it abrasive, enough perhaps to bring on one of my migraines.
My eyes fall to the flowers in my hand, as I walked to the elevator, pressing level 4; the flowers' dampness seeping through my black woollen glove. suddenly, I didn't mind their cost any more, it was worth it, she is going to need some colour in here.
as I reached level 4, I walked down the familiar hallway to the brown door at the very end of it.
'235' it read.
I finally reached the door, brown and dull like all the others, but I could already see people inside. "well, here we are, done for the day. the morning shift doctors and nurses will be here in an hour or two" the nurse smiled kindly, walking out with her colleagues.
I slid my eyes on the foot of the bed, reading the unusually familiar chart, reading it over and over again for years.
Kim Gurjeet
Status: Coma
Admittance: 3:29am 30-10-2018
Cause of admittance: Car crash
Duration: Unknown
My sadness is a hollowness. I can't tell you what's worse. Sometimes my hollowness is a shell, holding in a thousand oceans of tears. Streaming tears cleansed my red cheeks. Few droplets remained, forgetting their way as the path was swept from beneath them, consequently blurred my vision with waves of sadness only the broken encounter. the salty water released calmly as my body started to shake with loud sobs.
bitter.unforgiving.pain
I smiled bitterly, putting the flower on the oak table near her bed; I sat down quietly holding her hand.
I looked down, pushing her long, brown hair back. she still looked beautiful like a white rose; beautiful yet pale and lifeless.
"Now, I finally got the courage to face my concerns" I mumbled to myself my hands into fists. "I'm ready to meet her family. I'm ready".
"Are you alright?" said a voice from behind me, as I heard the door closed. I turned and spuned widely, and came face to face with an old nurse who looked like she is in her late 50s.
she walked up to me and smiled sadly at me, placing a hand on my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze as I looked down at my hands; she said: " I am sorry to scare you deary but I asked 'are you alright?"
I looked at her momentarily and nodded stiffly. "I'm fine" I answered softly.
"In my 43 years of experience, I have seen many families leave this place; some pleasant and a few with their happiness crushed. I don't know if you saw me before but I noticed you a few times at the hospital reception. Is-" she paused to look at the almost lifeless pale figure on the bed, under the clean white covers with lots of tubes injected to her pale skin. "Is she your younger sister?" she asked gently.
"No, she is my best friend. She is the sister I always wanted". I exclaimed.
She only responded with a nod.
"So... What happened to her?" she asked concernedly.
I looked down with a bitter smile and told her our story. She just listened quietly; as I was halfway through, I broke down. The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down my face.
By the time I finished telling her my oh-so sorrowful story, I felt the muscles of my chin trembling like a small child.