The doctor was right about what she said when we got to the hospital. Her exact words were, “We’ve done several tests but we don’t know what’s wrong with her,”

I wasn’t really interested in what she had to say as she was talking to George. All I wanted was to see mother, to see her smile beautifully.

As the conversation progressed, I still wasn’t listening. Until these words came ringing in my ears: “Her condition is so bad that we doubt she’ll…”

“Don’t even finish the sentence,” I said gazing at her angrily. “How do you know she won’t make it? Since when has God appointed you to be His second in command? Now you know who does and does not get to make it?”

“Mihloti, the doctor’s just trying to be realis…” he tried justifying what she had said.

“You,” I pointed at him, “you shut up because you don’t care about her, so please don’t say a thing. Mother is not your priority, so don’t give me the ‘I care’ attitude,” I hissed at him.

“But I do…”

“Bull! You don’t care one bit, you’re only here because you’re accompanying me, so please!” I shouted. “Now, if that’s all; I’d like to see mother,” I said calming down.

“You can go through, but please no whining, it’s the last thing she needs right now,” the doc instructed.

“I don’t see the need of that,” I said not taking her seriously.

I walked enthusiastically through all those doors, longing to see mother so badly, it felt as if I wasn’t getting to her.

When we got to her ward, I braked. I just couldn’t go any further. At that door, my heart was buried. It was like someone dug it out of my chest then squashed it right in my eyes.

The doctor was right, there was no hope.

She was connected to thousands of machines, like some sort of invalid. She seemed weaker; her smile was gone.

I so badly wanted to go through that door and hold her hand against mine, promise her everything would be alright, but instead I stood still. I couldn’t bear seeing her like that, it was unbearable.

What ever happened to mother? She lay in that three quarter hospital bed like she was about to die. It was only a day ago that she had been admitted to that hell hole, but from her ‘unknown’ condition it seemed like she had been there for a century.

I turned away to leave, at that moment leaving was the only reasonable option. “Mihloti,” she called after me with a lifeless voice, forcing a smile.

I looked back, not knowing what to do: to go in the ward or simply walk away. Tears were promising to fill my eyes and I couldn’t stop them.

“No!” I whined and ran out of the hospital like a madwoman.

“Mihloti! Wait!” George called after me, but why would I stop? The pain felt like the worst thing that ever happened to me.

It felt like someone took a brick and crashed my pinky toe. Ouch! I left that place heartless. I couldn’t feel my heart beat anymore. I was as good as dead.

I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, and opened George’s car and sat there, with my eyes pouring tears.

“Mihloti, I’m sorry baby,” he said as he sat next to me.

“But why? Why does this always have to happen? Whenever things work out fine for us, she falls sick. I hate it!” I found myself talking to him.

“We don’t have control over life, Mihloti,” he sympathized.

“But it’s all your fault, this is all your fault,” I blamed him with a high pitch tone.

“How?”

“If you two hadn’t separated all those years ago, we’d be telling a different tale. If you were there when she needed you, she wouldn’t have had to work herself to this point,” I said strongly.

“Mihloti, it was never meant to be,” he explained calmly.

“Crap! How is it not meant to be if you have been through life’s difficulties together? Married seventeen long years? Did you wake up and realise it was ‘not meant to be’? Or simply because of another woman?” I asked looking through the window crying even more.

“It’s just that…”

“Just drive me home,” I cut in, pissed off.

We drove home quietly without exchanging words. The hate I’d been carrying for him felt heavier.

I walked past Tinyiko and went straight to my room. Just to have a ‘tear party’. I threw myself on my bed and gave a big cry. When will my crying ever come to an end? I asked myself.

“Mihloti, what’s wrong?” she asked consoling me. “What’s wrong Mihloti?” she asked once more. Why wouldn’t she take the hint that I didn’t want to talk to her and leave me alone?

If it weren’t for her and that mother of hers, I would have been granted an opportunity to have a ‘George’. I wouldn’t hate him this much; he’d be part of my life and not hers. She is the reason my mom was sick. If she wasn’t born, George would be spoiling me and not her.

She had everything I never had. Why did she have to live a fairy-tale at my expense? She went to a private school while I had to go to a public school. She had a mother and father. What did I have? Nothing! Just a mother on a death bed. I’ll kill her, I swear I’ll kill her.

***

Tell us: Do you think Mihloti will go through with it?