IN NEED OF HIS LOVE

CHAPTER 1

It is a very cold morning in Cape Town. Praise has been walking all around the township called Khayelitsha, looking for his younger brother Mbuso. The boy has been missing since the last afternoon, and the police just said 24 hours hadn't passed when she went to report him as the missing person. Mbuso's friends said he left the field where they were playing soccer after he had a fight with one of the boys there. He was walking alone. No one knows, seen, or heard anything. Praise went to look for Mbuso after the clock struck at 9 pm. She went to ask his friends at their homes, but all said the same story, him leaving the field early after the fight.

Her mind was racing with the endless possibilities, each one more devastating than the last. Her younger brother couldn't just leave her like this - he was still so young. Exhaustion had taken its toll on her body; her legs and knees ached from pacing back and forth, her face was dry and tight from crying, and her eyes burned with pain from searching the darkness for what felt like an eternity.

She never imagined that something like this could happen to her. Having witnessed countless news reports of children vanishing without a trace, only to be found dead, filled her with dread. The thought of losing her brother, her lifelong companion, was unbearable. Since his birth, they had faced the world together, a bond that couldn't be broken. The prospect of being left alone was devastating; he couldn't leave her, not now, not ever.

Her feet felt numb inside her tekkies, despite the socks she wore. But she ignored the discomfort, overwhelmed by the anguish that gripped her heart. She walked for a while, but the pain became too much to bear. Spotting a rock on the other side of the road, she decided to cross over. Distracted by her turmoil, she didn't notice the oncoming car. It struck her with a sickening thud.

The driver cursed under his breath, horrified by the accident. "This can't be happening," he muttered. He leaped out of the car, rushing to her side. Relief washed over him when he saw she was still breathing. Gently, he scooped her up in his arms, bridal-style, and placed her in the backseat. Jumping back into the driver's seat, he started the engine and sped towards the hospital, driving with reckless urgency.

He screeched to a halt in front of the hospital, not bothering to park properly. He leaped out, turned off the engine, and rushed to the backseat to retrieve Praise. Cradling her in his arms, he sprinted towards the hospital entrance. Fortunately, a nurse was nearby and quickly responded, rushing to grab a stretcher. Together, they swiftly transferred Praise onto the stretcher, and she was whisked away to the emergency department.

Nearly three hours had ticked by, and he was still waiting anxiously for an update on the girl's condition. The stiff hospital chairs had taken their toll, leaving his legs numb and uncomfortable. Despite not knowing her name, he held onto the hope that someone would recognize her. A nurse had mentioned that a colleague from her area might know her, and he clung to that possibility.

Filling out the admission forms had been a challenge, as he knew nothing about her medical history. He worried that she might have underlying conditions or allergies that the hospital staff wouldn't be aware of, making her treatment even more complicated.

Tyson's gaze lifted from his thighs as a nurse called his name. Her expression was neutral, leaving him anxious. "How is she?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

The nurse's response was measured. "We've managed to control the bleeding, but unfortunately, she's slipped into a coma. She suffered a real severe head injury, which caused her brain to swell and lead her to a coma. " Tyson's heart sank. "We are managing the swelling ,and we really hope it goes down quicker. We can't predict when she'll wake up, but we're hoping it might be within a week or two. Would you like to see her?"

Tyson hesitated, unsure of what to say or do. The nurse's suggestion caught him off guard. "Go see her and talk to her. She will be able to hear you, and the sound of your voice might even help her wake up faster."

Tyson wondered if the nurse assumed they were a couple. What could he possibly say to a girl he'd never met? Despite his reservations, he nodded and followed the nurse to the ward where the girl lay.

Tyson's heart sank as he gazed at the girl lying motionless in the bed. The weight of his responsibility in the accident crushed him. Though he knew she had also been at fault, he couldn't shake the feeling that he should have been more cautious, slowed down sooner. If only he had seen her earlier....

The nurse's voice broke into his thoughts. "Get in." He stepped inside, his eyes fixed on the girl. The nurse gave him brief instructions before departing, leaving the door ajar.

Tyson stood frozen, gathering his courage before approaching the bed. He sat in the chair, then changed his mind, opting to stand instead. What do you say to someone you're meeting for the first time, especially under such circumstances? Introductions seemed like a good starting point.

Taking a deep breath, he began, "Hi, I'm Tyson, Tyson Dlamini." He hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. Should he tell her that he was the one who had hit her with his car? Definitely not. The nurse had said she would hear him, and he feared that revealing the truth might evoke fear or anger, potentially hindering her recovery. So, he chose to keep that detail to himself.

"I'm sorry you're here," Tyson continued, his voice barely above a whisper. He wasn't sure if he was saying the right words, but he hoped his sincerity would convey itself. He paused, searching for something more to say, something that might comfort her, or himself.

Tyson's voice filled with emotion as he spoke. "I really hope you recover soon. I saw the tears in your eyes, and I hope whatever was hurting you doesn't discourage you from waking up. You're so young, and there's so much waiting for you in this world." He paused, feeling a connection to this stranger. "I don't know your name, but I promise I'll find out. Get well soon, princess."

As he leaned over to gaze at her, he was struck by her beauty. Her long eyelashes framed her closed eyes, and despite the bandages covering her hair and the bruises on her face, her radiance shone through. "Get well soon," he whispered again before turning to leave.

As Tyson exited the hospital, he made a detour to the cafeteria to grab a cup of coffee. Despite feeling hungry, he wasn't in the mood for food, so a caffeine boost would have to suffice. He ordered his favorite cappuccino and was about to leave when someone suddenly appeared out of nowhere, colliding with him and causing his coffee to spill all over his black t-shirt. The shirt was already stained with tiny dots of blood from the girl he had rushed to the hospital, and now it was further marred by the coffee stains.

"This was not my day," Tyson muttered to himself, his anger boiling over. "What the f**k?" he exclaimed, his voice rising in frustration. The girl who had collided with him looked down, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, sir, I was just..." she began, but Tyson cut her off. "Just what?" he demanded, his tone sharp. "Geez," he muttered, shaking his head, and stalked off before she could respond. He left her to pick up the pieces, just as she had made him spill his coffee. Still fuming, Tyson made his way to the parking lot, got into his car, and drove off towards his house.