"Hold on," Danish, in his worried voice, strengthened his girlfriend who was comatose; the rolling bed with Ana's bleeding body on it slithered through the corridor of the hospital. Danish along with the nurses jogged next to her bed heading to the emergency room.
"You are not allowed to get in, sir. Let us check her out." One of the nurses reminded him and halted Danish's steps so that he could only watch them take her inside the room in his hopelessness.
Danish walked back and forth in front of the emergency room; his hands occasionally raked his scalp, then rubbed his face in panic and fear. The pearls of sweat dripped down his temple asserting his drained energy and his worry.
It was because of him that she had to go through this; she wouldn't have gotten into an accident if he had treated her well. Danish blamed himself for the tragedy Ana experienced today. His hands formed into fists in dismay, anger and contrition all at once.
