Sarrah not noticing ample times let out an "okay" at a terrified note.Disgusted with the recent awkwardness which wasn't for the first time.Instead a narrow pipe of conversation lay open between them when in need as if the computer wanted to establish connection with the Internet.Some rare occasions of emotions were displayed at parties held in honour of the father.Mom had often said her father had been a beloved dad before when being together were distant thoughts.When Sarrah had taken to MG H's ('Massachusetts General Hospital') bed, fallen ill with one of the deadliest diseases......when doctor didn't know what it was.That was when Sarrah was 6 last when she saw her father's lame figure positioning beside her bed and running into the doctors for enquiry.A shadow of this figure often haunted her dreams, the mystery unsolved.Sarrah was not going to believe this dad of hers was that image.She frowned as she fought with her thinking power.
The wind has stopped blowing instead the harsh 'BEEp' sound interrupted the persistent mind.The narrow alley before the house often got overwhelmed with emoticons because of the new multiplex.The bustle had to be done with with the horn.At last "Honey, we're home" said Mr.Rowler the only touch of human in the whole day but everyday.It was like routine.The door would open wide and he would rush in with his suit and the case.Sarrah awkwardly stretched her time line and delayed her entry so much so that when she did enter Mrs. Rowler was startled "Oh my, i thought you were in Ur room bt now!Thank god i never hurt u, did i?"hugging her little daughter."No mom" she promptly said.She turned her eyes left to certify the room's temperature.It was as usual.The soft couch had a misfit Mr.Rowling slouching on it like "Damn it was a day and a half" and Mrs.Rowling running on her feet to revive the old him.She slowly grasped every thought,feeling and emotion and ran past her mother over the stairs into her room.Duffy lay dead in the sultry heat.She patted him moving her fingers through those tender lines caressing her hand instead she thought.She retired on the baked bed as the cooler was taking over with Duffy pushing himself under her sweaty pant.
"Don't do that silly" she said as she laughed away.
Minutes later Sarrah woke up to the feel of tenderness on her forehead.It was her mother.
"Oh mom you", she smiled faintly.She handed her a glass of lime juice and waited to watch her drink."Darling, you unexpectedly left the garage door open yesterday night and you slept all through dinner time and u never read the newspaper all day", her mother said on a soft note.
"Oh my I'm so sorry......how'd i manage to mess up so much......."she was interrupted
"I'm not complaining nor am i chiding this darling you......it's fine",Mrs.Rowling was a different self every moment. Mesmerised, Sarrah stared at her.
"Today i must tell u my child no matter what i love you not because you make me proud but because ur my child.I never wanted all the perfect things, specially you.I wanted you to make mistakes so i could feel being a mother.You make your parents so proud but ur mother is insecure dear, unsure whether u need her.You've been so perfect always I just didn't figure out what went wrong, even if i did they were circumstance i could hardly help",She desperately tight hugged her and demanded it back.
When they left Sarrah saw her face was red(bruised by the morning sun), deep black eyes flooded with the nations water wanting an outlet and the hair untied.She looked pretty she thought, much like her save the age that still demanded justice.As she left Sarrah quickly jumped out of bed and hugged her tight "love u mom!"she said.A melodramatic scene Sarrah thought to herself but her favourite.
Looking into the mirror she thought how a perfect loser she was.Today it added to her list.She was the worst daughter she thought.Her mother was insecure and dad almost robot, life was even more messed than she thought it could get.Those hard days were gone but she longed the MGH bed days.The helpless humans, the less robots and victims of poverty she loved more.Her free self she loved more.The MGH bills had forced her father to work it out.He finished his dropped college days and became a lawyer.Earned money and could get anyone operated at MGH today without begging for time and load like the olden days.She under the constant thought of having to lose them slogged hard and ended up in MIT.It made her father proud but not her content.The perfect calculations had perfectly failed her somewhere.She wanted to be in HMS(harvard medical school).HMS was far away but the deadly dreams didn't offer her place elsewhere for medicine.Her battle had succeeded deadly in areas of her disinterest.It left her lots to do but not what she wanted to do.The bare present chances were not outcome of planning but of necessity, just that it bore fruit on the wrong branch.Thing lay deep like burden on the weak heart.Overlay some heartious comments and some lines of sheer jealousy that tended her outer wounds where blood tried gushing out.
From that bed ridden little girl who was probably breathing her last she had thought had thoughts wiser than today and victories uncalculatably more.In the mirror the present faded and went down memory lane.......into the beds of MGH...........
Story continued here
ty :D
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