Inheritance of Hearts

She Mourns

The doctor’s face blurred into the sterile whiteness of the hospital corridor as Sharon stared through him, her mind aimless drifting in the weight of his words.

Her vision blurred with tears streaming down her cheeks.

The words ‘we lost her’ clawed at her chest, pounding in her head like a cruel echo she couldn’t silence.

Her legs refused to move, her body locked in place as though the weight of her grief had turned her to stone. She stood still, being paralyzed by grief and total disbelief.

Only yesterday, her mother’s frail hand had warmed hers. Her mother’s soft voice, though weak, gave her hope when she whispered to her.

Now, that warmth was gone, replaced by a cruel coldness that came with pain and sorrow.

‘you… you said what?’

‘I apologize, said the doctor, but the outcome isn't the way we had hoped.’

The doctor's shoulders slumped as he spoke and stared at the ground as if he too, was burdened by her death. His hesitant, gentle voice sounded less like an explanation than an apology.

Her legs shook as if the floor beneath her could collapse, and her fingers curled tightly around the chilly metal railing. Sharon grabbed hold of the closest handrail in the fluorescent-lit sterile hospital corridor to support herself.

Each breath was a battle, her chest rising and falling in uneven, shallow gasps as though grief itself was suffocating her. She was losing her mind but still fighting the weight of grief crushing her chest with every breath.

A scream clawed at her throat, but it never came. Instead, she crumpled inward, her sobs muffled and raw, throwing back her head in protest of the pain crushing her from the inside.

‘You said she will be better today, what changed?’ Sharon asked but got no response from either the head doctor or team members.

Sharon’s voice cracked, her words trembling like fragile glass ready to shatter. The silence from the doctor and nurses pressed down on her, heavier than the words they didn’t say.

While she came to the hospital her mother’s health improved. The nurses had reported that as much as the impact to her brain was significant she was going to be fine.

Only yesterday, the nurses had smiled at her, their words promising recovery despite the odds. The memory of their reassurances twisted in her mind now, bitter and hollow.

While the nurses tried to comfort Sharon, Sullivan lingered silently close to her, even though the way he moved around disturbed his composure.

Sharon, being immense in her grief by the overwhelming news of her mother's passing, didn't take note of his behaviour.

Sullivan, who usually maintains his composure, had an unbreakable focus in his eyes, as if he were holding something inside.

He watched with stony and even indifferent behaviour as Sharon cried out to the medical staff, begging for sympathy and answers from them.

The doctor walked up to Sullivan and held him by the arm, both of them discussing silently to themselves as they made their way towards the exit way of the building.

The deceased body of Mrs Theresa the medical team moved out from the room on a stretcher, covered with blue sheets.

Tears carved hot paths down her face as the nurses murmured condolences, their voices soft but distant, like whispers carried on a faraway breeze.

She got up from the waiting seats, looking towards the direction they were taking the body of her deceased mother. Sharon wanted to see her, to talk to her and feel her but they took her body away.

Her legs moved before she could think, following the stretcher as though the distance between them would erase the finality of her mother’s still form beneath the blue sheet.

Her voice trembled, barely rising above a whisper. ‘I need my mother… please… someone… show me where she is,’ she begged, each word cracking under the weight of her desperation.

Sharon jerked away from the nurse’s outstretched hand, her voice rising in panic. ‘Don't! Don't touch me!,’ Her body trembled as she clutched her arms close to her chest.

She shook her body, resisting support and help from those who held her but they overpowered her and moved her to a waiting room that was meant for visiting family members.

The pastel-colored portraits of serene landscapes blurred in her vision, their muted beauty mocking her pain. They offered no comfort, only a hollow reminder of the emptiness within her.

The emotional suffering for Sharon at the moment went beyond surface level, penetrating to the core of her feelings. A part of her had just been taken away as she sat there sobbing without hope.

One nurse whispered to the other, her gaze lingering on Sharon’s trembling form. “She really loved her mother…” her voice faded, filled with quiet sympathy.

‘Accept my condolences,’ said the other.

Sullivan had not returned when he and the doctor walked out early. The hospital needed to settle all necessary paperwork with the family of the deceased. Sharon sat there in the waiting room till Sullivan had done all the paperwork with the hospital.

The door opened and Sullivan slowly walked into the waiting room, to indicate that they are finished and ready to leave, he gave a cold single nod towards Sharon accompanied by a direct eye contact to reinforce the message.

Already, Sullivan parked his car there when Sharon pulled into the driveway. He had insisted on coming with her home and at the moment, Sharon found it difficult to refuse the offer from him.

While they went back home from the hospital Sharon's eyes were filled with tears. The streets passed slowly, the familiar landmarks gave no comfort but merely reminders of what she had lost.

In that state of mind though behind the driving wheel, she lost focus of what took place around her till they got to the house.

He waited without saying a word, his eyes looked calm while he opened the door, taking steps in a collected manner but there was still a stream of worry in his eyes.

She staggered out of the car and barely made her way to the front entrance of the house. She could barely walk.

Driven more by habit than intention. Sullivan came to her side almost immediately, gently guiding her inside.

In the quiet house, the sounds of barking dogs were accompanied by the weight of her grief.

‘Do you want some tea or something to eat?’

Sullivan asked Sharon quietly as they entered the living room. His voice steady, though giving a hint of uncertainty in it.

He wanted to offer comfort, but not certain of what would help, making him stare at her.

While she was still sitting on the sofa, Sharon shook her head, her eyes still puffy from tears.

She sank onto the sofa feeling lightweight. On the sofa next to hers, Sullivan sat beside her, his presence steady and reassuring.

Aside from Sharon's sobs, the only other sound in the room was the ticking of the wall clock, which caused an unpleasant quiet.

‘I understand if you do not want to talk at the moment.’

The silence in the room Sullivan brought to an end by his gentle but firm voice. Even though he gave her space as she needed, he also tried to provide her with a lifeline, no matter how small, to make her feel alive.

Turning towards him with a crumble face expression full of intense pain.

‘She was a good woman and I'll miss her so much.’

Sharon cried out loud enough, ‘all I could say she has taken away,’ she admitted in her cracking voice.

‘Please tell me this is a nightmare.’

Staring at her he shook his head, He could relate to an extent what she was saying and feeling his pain too.

In the moment they sat together, Sullivan made sure not to say too much. Having to console a grieving person he found difficult , especially with her.

He wouldn’t pick it up when his phone began to ring.

‘All I need is another chance to tell her how much she means to me.’

Hearing her words Sullivan’s expression softened.

‘She knew, She loved you as much as you love her and that love never ends, even now.’