“Somebody help! Please help!” I took chances screaming, hoping someone would hear me.

Was this some sort of tradition for mother? That every time we argue she falls? Yes, the first time I slammed her with the door and this time it’s also my fault, I thought to myself with tears welling up on my face.

“Mihloti, what happened? Have you called the ambulance? Did you have something to do with this? Mihloti how could you be so…”

“MaGumede, did you walk all the way from your house to come blame me here, huh?” I asked pissed off.

This woman should have been helping me but there she was throwing a million questions at me; blaming me for having something to do with mother collapsing. Again, what was I expecting from a gossip? She had come for a scoop, not to help from the goodness of her heart.

“Mihloti, I’m afraid I can’t help you,” she said walking out, leaving me all alone with my unconscious mother. That woman defines heartless.

“MaGumede, please!” I begged after her, hoping she’d turn back and help me, but she didn’t.

“Where the hell are you dammit?!” I paced up and down looking for my phone. It was nowhere to be found and mom’s battery had died. “Come on!” I shouted in an annoyed tone, throwing the phone on the couch. “How will I call an ambulance?” I asked myself throwing myself on the floor, next to mother.

Suddenly I heard ambulance sirens afar. “Oh God, they better be coming here,” I prayed, knowing very well I hadn’t called an ambulance.

“Mihloti, open up,” Ntiyiso said banging on the door.

I rushed to the door and just fell in his arms.

“She’s dying Ntiyiso, I don’t know what to do,” I finally said when I was able to speak.

“She’s not going to die, the ambulance is coming,”

“But I… I haven’t called the ambulance yet,” I said confused, hoping he wasn’t bluffing; giving me false hope.

“I called the ambulance a while ago, it’s going to be here in a moment,” he started, realising I didn’t understand what he meant, he continued. “I was on my way to Mavichocho when I heard MaGumede telling the whole neighbourhood that your mom had collapsed and I immediately called the ambulance,”

God, thank You for Ntiyiso, I prayed silently.

Just then, the ambulance sirens got nearer and nearer. We drove to Lesedi hospital and on our way I couldn’t help but have flashbacks of when I slammed her with the door.

I was reliving my worst nightmare; I was reliving the fear of losing mother. Only this time it was harder, remembering she’d been giving me a ‘death talk’.

Ntiyiso had been by my side the whole time. “Mihloti, everything will be fine,” he said squeezing my hand.

I sat there and said nothing, I doubted anything would be fine. My life had taken a worse turn. Everything was just falling apart.

We finally got to hospital and they took her in. There was history repeating itself, I would have to spend the night alone – alone without mother.

When I got home I couldn’t help but cry myself to sleep. My pillow was wet with tears.

I spent most of the night feeding my pillow with tears and I caught sleep in the early morning. I was woken up by a knock by the door.

“Ni leku teni I’m coming!” I stood up from bed lazily and walked to the door.

“Yhiii! Woah!” I exclaimed and slammed the door shut.

***

Tell us: Who do you think is at the door?