Sunday, November 18, 2012

The Friendship Feeling.

Written by: Hafsa Jamil.

I opened my eyes as a beam of sunlight stroke through the windows making me feel uncomfortable. I leaned back and adjusted myself on the bed. I could feel butterflies in my stomach, but I ignored the feeling and bolted out of the bed towards the window. I gazed outside. The sky was painted bright blue and the shiny green grass glistened in the sun. It was a peaceful morning but there was something that was distressing me. I was vexatious about something I couldn’t recall.

As I turned back, my eyes went over the calendar that told me why was I in such a wearisome mood,
and what was it that kept disrupting me. “Hospital”, the word hollered in my head. Fear ran through my body. I hurried down stairs and plumped into the sofa, taking deep breaths to keep my nerves steady. My heart was ready to jump out of my chest. I got ready and scampered outside where I found my mom anxiously waiting for me in the car. 

My friend was in a horrendous problem. A problem that I couldn’t help her solve or get her rid of it. A problem that was so superlatively twisted that I couldn’t untangle it. Neither I nor anyone else had the solution to it. I still remember the day when she had fainted and we had taken her to the hospital. I remember the words that took me into a great shock. I couldn’t believe it, and I thought it was all fallacious. I had felt dizzy and I still remember how warm tears were running over my cheeks. I had been restless and my whole body was shaking deliberately, but I was still not ready to accept the fact about her health. For a second I felt that the ground had vanished from underneath my feet. Cancer. Blood cancer. The two unsought words explained it all. 

As soon as we entered the hospital, we both felt strange. There was a herd of people in front of something that was concealed. There were so many patients, but as the crowd moved, we saw a little kid sitting on the sofa calmly. He was bald because of the chemotherapy sessions. When he saw my eyes locked on him, he smiled his innocent smile and waved at me. I waved back, grinning. His eyes explained everything he was unable to bring on his tongue. He was motivated to fight, to struggle, to live, and to follow his dreams. 

A nurse came and informed us that my friend had already gone to the treatment room. I was upset because I wanted to meet her before chemotherapy. Nonetheless, I could still watch her from the glass door, so I took firm steps towards the treatment room and my mom went to the reception. 

I looked at her through the bare glass door. She lay quietly on her stomach waiting for the doctors to start the horrifying procedure. She was extremely nervous as her heart beat accelerated on the screen. Sweat covered her forehead and her hands were shaking continuously. Her big eyes were filled with tears that tumbled down her cheeks because of the fear of unbearable and agonizing procedure. 

As the session started and as soon as the injection penetrated inside towards her spine, her whole body began to shake. Her face turned puffy and hot and it seemed as if the heat from her chest was radiating into her face. I knew her body was sore. I knew for a fact that her whole body had a sharp feeling of razor blades and that they had not numbed most of the part of her body. She was struggling to breath and dying to live. The way he grinded her teeth and clenched her fists indicated that it was excruciating, intense and frightful. She had her eyes closed tightly and her fingers now kept moving, searching for a hand that she could hold on to. It was hard for her to endure the acute pain. The girl that always laughed was crying buckets today. I knew her body was burning because I remember how she told me that it can be worse than stabbing in the stomach or pulling out throat from the mouth. 

After a while, she opened her eyes in absolute exhaustion and looked at me. She tried moving her lips and managed to whisper, I’m okay. She was tussling to live to follow her dreams.

And I'm sorry if it sucks, I wore it last year :)

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