It has now been a couple of weeks, and Tasnim is not awake.
I have started caring less, not for Tasnim but for myself. As every day passes, I hate myself more and more.
Doctor Wilson said I must meet him today to talk about Tasnim's progress; there might just be some hope for this dire situation.
Giselle can't come; her health has not been the same since Tasnim's accident.
It is with great anticipation, but most fear that I am waiting for Doctor Wilson in Tasnim's hospital room. As I see him walking up to me, it is hard to read his face; I don't know where this will go.
"Hi, Carson."
"Hi, Doctor Wilson."
"Please come sit down."
"What's wrong? Is it Tasnim?"
I watch as he swallows real hard, and for a brief moment, I can see it in his eyes. There is a sparkle, but it is not a sparkle that means hope; there are tears that are forming in the depths of his eyes.
