CHAPTER 05- When It Pains.
1274 Words

After an hour of waiting a nurse came out saying the doctor was waiting for him in his office.
"Afternoon" the doc greeted stretching his hand out for a handshake.
Bashir returned the greeting and sat on the seat he was motioned to sit on.
"A relative?" the doctor asked after keeping his thin glasses on the table.
"A friend"
"When last did she eat?" he asked knitting his brows.
"I'm not sure when actually" Bashir replied curtly.
"From the looks of it she hadn't eaten in a while" he paused before continuing.
"She has been diagnosed with one of the most chronic of ulcers. Using the barium swallow diagnosis we noticed that she has stomach ulcers, which are also known as gastric ulcers. Stomach ulcers are a type of peptic ulcer disease. Peptic ulcers are any ulcers that affect both the stomach and small intestines. Stomach ulcers occur when the thick layer of mucus that protects your stomach from digestive juices is reduced. This allows the digestive acids to eat away at the tissues that line the stomach, causing an ulcer. and it is highly recommended of her to eat three square meals a day. Stomach ulcers may be easily cured, but they can become severe without proper treatment " he paused to take a deep breath.
"Its signs and symptoms are dull pain in the stomach, weight loss, not wanting to eat because of pain, nausea or vomiting, bloating, feeling easily full, burping, or acid reflux, heartburn (burning sensation in the chest), pain that may improve when you eat, drink, or take antacids, anemia (symptoms can include tiredness, shortness of breath, or paler skin), dark, tarry stools, vomit that's b****y or looks like coffee grounds among others"
He nodded, making a mental note of asking her whether she experiences any which amongst the symptoms. Knowing Fatimah, she would try to abandon the question. But she may answer if he may be lucky.
"She's literally starving. Any more lack of food in her body will lead to her system shutting off and she would keep on losing consciousness from time to time. And her eyes are quite swollen, wonder the reason behind it plus she has bruises on her arms, lashes, cuts which may or may not be a result of self harming"
Bashir's jaw clenched as he ground his teeth apprehending the information he just received.
What if he wasn't there at the moment she fell? Knowing how cruel the world is, people would probably abandon her to rot alive.
May Allah guide us to the right path and treat each and every creation with respect and honor. Ameen.
After a while Bashir paid for everything including her medicines and walked into the room she was in feeling lightheaded with the information his head absorbed. His heart couldn't take it. Not when there was possibility that she was self harming.
The first thing he noticed was her hijab missing. It must've been taken off after being soaked with that foam.
She made a futile attempt at closing her head to no avail because she had nothing to put on closeby.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, stopping close to her legs.
"I'm fine. Can we leave already? Sorry for everything I didn't mean to cause you any more trouble Innalillahi. Now I'm more indebted to you. I'm very sorry for inconveniencing you I bet you had important things to do and here you are stuck wit..... naa shiga uku (I am in trouble) Innalillahi" she scrambled off the bed making the intravenous injection sticking into her hand shift a liitle which made blood start oozing into the drip instead of liquid into her veins.
Her eyes turned as wide as saucers as she just noticed the blood in the drip.
"This is not supposed to happen. Is it?" she asked looking sick and afraid.
"It's not" she collapsed on the floor. Unconscious.
Bashir immediately called for the nurses' attention before leaving the room.
He sat on one of the hospital's waiting chairs with his head in his hands thinking of the current predicament they were both in. Mama had called his number twice already.
The doctor called for his attention once again about how she fainted.
"It's as a result of shock. She got scared at the sight of her blood in the pipe" he explained scribbling on a sheet of paper.
"She would be good to go after a few hours"
••••••••
An hour later, Bashir parked his car close to her destination.
Fatimah turned the door's knob and furrowed her brows. It wasn't opening.
"Let's play a game" Bashir spoke while staring at her. His gaze always made her nervous.
All she was thinking about was Uwale's groundnuts that were laying comfortably on her tray in the back seat and this man here was talking about playing a game.
Does he want her to be dead before tomorrow.
"What sort of game? I need to be home already Uwale would kill.." she gulped at the slip of tongue.
"It's called 20 questions. You ask me and I ask you, we would keep doing that until we reach twenty on each person's part. I want you to get to know me better" Bashir explained, ignoring what she previously said at the moment.
"Okay then" Fatimah slumped her shoulders, knowing there's definitely no way he was letting her go without answers to his questions. She's not a fool not to notice his strategy.
"You first" Bashir clipped.
"Uhh How many siblings do you have and their names" she asked.
"3, Ya Ayshah and Mukhtar are my elder ones while Khadijah is my younger sister. You?"
"I have none" she replied immediately, knowing there is no way she could refer to Musa or Basira as one of her siblings.
They asked trivial questions before reaching the eighth one, Bashir became serious.
"Have you ever cut yourself by mistake with razor blades or maybe you tried to?"
"No. I can't inflict pain on myself. I can't imagine how a person can do that" she replied feeling self conscious of the way his eyes trailed down her arm.
"So when are you getting married?"she asked, scolding herself mentally for asking such a personal question. It just came out of her lips before she could do anything about stopping herself from blurting it.
"Why?" he asked, one brow arched up.
"Just curious you know you guys get married early and to beautiful women" she replied, her eyes glinting at the image despite the bitterness she felt as bile rose up her throat.
"Who are "we""
"You rich people" she blurted, widening her eyes as if she couldn't believe she just said that.
Bashir laughed "I'm sorry if i gave you the impression that I'm rich, I'm not. I live with my parents, still under their care" It wasn't completely a lie but he gets jobs, mostly in form of contracts occasionally.
Fatimah felt her heart clench. Parents. Family. Home. She has none of that.
Her eyes glanced around before stopping on the clock.
4:25pm. What the Hell.
"Is that time accurate?" she asked, pointing a shaking finger at the clock.
"Yeah" he replied, relaxing his back the car seat.
"Hasbunallahu wa ni'mal wakil ai ta tabbata yau nice mattacciyar gaske wallahi (It has been confirmed, I am oficially dead I swear) please open the door"
Bashir turned the tray upside down, unlocked the door, opened it. Then handed her a brand new One Thousand Naira Note.
Without waiting for a reaction or vehement reject he drove away leaving Fatimah on the streets with a gaping mouth.
•••••••
- Writer
