Broken: Not a halal love story by Fatima Bala

Author:Fatima Bala [Bala, Fatima]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2023-07-24T23:00:00+00:00

The thing about dreams is that you find minor details around the peripheral that try to clue you in that the simulation is not accurate. Still, your consciousness chooses to ignore it so that you can fall deeper into slumber. “Wake up, baby,” the voice came from a distance, but I knew we were in the same room. I thought it was Ahmad’s room but it didn’t look like it; the walls were devoid of their art, the walls were repainted to white and the interior decor was remodeled. The room was narrower than I remembered. It was unrecognizable. As I took in the room, I felt his lips on mine. That’s when I knew it had to be a dream. Wake up. Wake up.

I opened my eyes to the blinking lights – red, blue and white. They were all so bright, too bright. I closed my eyes again. What on earth was that sound? It felt like needles were piercing my eardrums repeatedly, non-stop. I opened my eyes and looked around me. My neck hurt as I moved. I was lying, moving on a stretcher. I lifted my hand and saw a blood pressure cuff around my arm. Am I in an ambulance? I thought as I tried to get up.

“Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to lay back down, please,” a man in a dark blue uniform said, his strong hands restraining me. He was wearing medical gloves and a name tag. I squinted as hard as I could, trying to make sense of the letters, but nothing made sense. My eyes hurt. My head hurt. Everything hurt.

“Ahmad?” I groaned.

“Baby, you’re awake,” he was by my side. I felt someone gently hold my left hand.

“Ahmad?” I croaked again.

His right hand went over his eyes: “Fucking hell! You scared me.” I had never seen him look so out of it. “How are you feeling?”

“Wha – what happened?” I asked, wincing as the ambulance went over a bump and squinting my eyes because the overhead lights were too bright. It felt like I was staring directly at the sun. He noticed, and he put his hands above my face, shielding my eyes from the bright lights. I looked at him. He looked restless like the whole world had tipped over and fallen on him.

“You passed out,” he said, his fingers gently squeezing mine. I could remember now – the stalled elevator, the heat, the darkness, the migraine. He shook his head, “you were burning up, and then you just –”

“How long was I out?”

“I don’t know. It felt like forever,” his hands went through his hair. “You weren’t responding. I –” he swallowed. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I guess I’m claustrophobic,” I managed a smile as I looked up. He smiled back.

Behind us, one of the paramedics was announcing “10-16” on the radio. We heard static, then a muffled response from the other end. A few seconds later, the ambulance stopped.

“Can we leave now? I feel much better,” I said as the doors opened.

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