Short Stories, Tale Africa

Redemption (Part 7)

Prison Redemption
By Cynthia Ayeza, Uganda:

Baaba shot up into a sitting position, arms suddenly flinging wildly and setting off the beepers on the hospital machines. She began to reach for her chest, then her neck…gasping for air as if she couldn't get enough of it. Baaba began to cry. She was alive.

“I am alive. I'm alive…I'm…alive…” she cried uncontrollably.

The doctor had not left.

“Try to relax…you're safe now,” he said, as nurses rushed in having been alarmed by the loud beeping from the machines.

The doctor signaled to the nurses to keep a distance, as he tried to calm Baaba.

“You're safe now…” he kept saying. “Take small breaths…” he continued.

“Whe…re…am I? Who are you?” Baaba attempted to talk.

“You are in a hospital…” the doctor said.

“I was having a bad dream…drowning in dark waters…I could not breathe,” she said.

The doctor allowed her to take her time, he did not want to interrupt her. She looked pale, and her eyes increasingly adopted a bewildered look. Did she know what happened to her?

Calm began to slowly come to Baaba's body. Her eyes remained the same.

“Do you know what happened to you?” the doctor asked.

“No,” Baaba replied, “my head hurts.” She reached to touch where she had taken a blow, and winced at the pain she encountered.

“You should rest. You need it to fully recover,” the doctor said.

“Okay…” she said, the nurses helping her to lie back in bed.

The doctor decided he would check on her later.

He had not had a good feeling about Patrick being in the room alone with the patient. He had instinctively decided to check on the patient who was likely going to be a vegetable in the long term with the slightest hope for a miracle in the short term. But experience had taught him not to give loved ones false hope. As he walked into the room, he noticed Patrick's hand over the patient's nose and mouth. He stepped into the room to make his presence known, upon which Patrick slid his hands off the patient's face.

Deciding to play it cool but noting the flustered on Patrick's face, the doctor decided to play it cool. It is when Patrick started rubbing his temples that the doctor decided to use the chance to call the police. Something about Patrick made the doctor uneasy. Had he tried to harm the patient? Kill her, perhaps? Whatever the case, the doctor was not taking any chances; he called the police.

With Patrick possibly locked away, at least for now, the doctor could focus on helping the patient to fully heal. The fact that she was awake was a good sign. The bewildered look in her eyes and not knowing what happened to her could be explained, but one could not be sure. For now, though, the patient needed to rest. Her brain had suffered much trauma from what looked like a single blog to the head. But, whatever was used had to have had strong metal because it dented her skull.

Baaba slipped back into a light slip. Small breaths were what she was focusing on. And how to make sense of Patrick's actions. But…one thing was clear to her; the doctor…not anyone could know the truth.

To be continued…

2,437 total views, 3 views today

Share this entry: