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You’re tossing and turning in bed for more than two hours, thinking that if this job that you’re doing doesn’t kill you, this cot will. It’s firm and small and you hate every inch of that dirty blanket under your body.
Why do you still tolerate it? Why do you even sleep here? Underground, in this cold and dark place, alone? You can’t remember anymore if it is by choice or they made you stay here, to take care of you…
It doesn’t really matter, your eyes are finally starting to close, your breathing’s getting slower and you truly would have slept in a heartbeat if it wasn’t something poking persistently the top of your shoulder.
You turn your head slowly and see the annoying finger, then the hand, the arm and at the end of it a curtain of familiar curls almost hiding the mischievous smile -almost.
For God’s sake, not again!
“What is it now Root?”
She approaches slightly and the corridor’s light bulb lights up her face; a face with a beauty you have never seen before and you don’t believe you’ll ever see again. You don’t tell her that.
“Hey sweetie, I just wanted to say hi”
You roll your eyes at that but instinctively you draw your legs close to your body to let her sit on the end of the cot. And she does, she sits there and stares at you, silently and steadily.
“Stop that” you say but she doesn’t seem like listening. Sometimes you think there must be a huge delay between the things you say and the things she hears. Or she just ignores you.
Anyhow, you hate it when she does that; staring at you. You feel that you can’t hide anything that way, as if her eyes can penetrate you and find your darkest thoughts –your darkest desires. And it’s that look on her face, that sad look that you’d give anything you have to make it disappear, to make that sadness go away.
Deep down you know that you’ll never be enough for her, you’ll never give her everything she deserves, and the worst part is that she knows it too. She can’t stop thinking about it but she can’t untangle herself from you either. And you can tell that she’s stack in the middle, hanging from a hope so that she doesn’t fall into the gap and you want nothing more than to help her choose a land, to make a step forward or back.
But you can’t. Because you’re stuck in the middle with her, hanging from that hope even if you are already aware that it doesn’t actually exist.
Then she understands how sad she might look because she smiles again, trying –and failing- to hide the desperation she feels.
“How are you today?” her question is sincere, filled with concern; just like every morning that she visits you.
“Good, I think I can walk” you say and you do a great job at hiding the pain, you almost fool yourself too and you make it vanish for a while. Deep down though you know who’s to blame for that. Who looks at you, smiles at you and you forget everything you ever felt, except for that desire to make her smile again and never stop smiling.
“You’re strong Sameen, you’ll manage.” she shakes her head positively and then stands up to leave again.
You don’t know why –you never know why with her- but you find yourself unable to let her leave, you’re not strong enough to see her leave.
“Root-” you sigh and when her eyes meet yours you nod at her to lie in the cot. There isn’t much space left but somehow she can always fit there, with you. Her half body on that silly blanket and the other half lying on yours.
You don’t do that. You never do that. But now that you have her here all you want to do is please her, make her feel safe with you, let her know that you can endure anything that comes your way, just for her.
“Root? When will this stop being enough for you?” you ask and all she does is bury her face into the curve of your neck, mumbling a ‘mm’, and she falls asleep like that, peaceful and content, and you think you’ve never wanted before to take care of someone as much as you want to take care of her.
You weren’t supposed to know how to do that, but your arms instinctively find their way around her waist, one of your hands slips inside her shirt and stays there, touching her skin, feeling the warmth of her body, synchronizing its movement with her breathing.
And then you finally fall asleep. So easily that you think you’ll never wake up again.
And maybe you won’t, but you realize you don’t really care anymore.
*
Two hours later you wake up. The light bulb from the corridor flickers again and you keep staring at it, your eyes denying looking at anything else in there.
You make a move to stand up and you remember you can’t really walk these days. Not that you have anywhere to go. Your cell is a shithole inside the ground, behind a thousand locked doors and guards.
You auscultate the silence for a minute, waiting –hoping- to hear gun fire and screams and heels, but there’s nothing out there except for a guard who’s about to take you for your usual session.
He unlocks your cell and brings inside the wheelchair –your wheelchair.
You go willingly, at this point there is no reason resisting it. And so you roll along the corridor, a light bulb flickering above your head and a dirty blanket in your arms hugging it firmly just like you’ve been doing all night –every night.
And you might be losing your mind, stuck between sanity and madness, but you’re stuck there with her and nothing else matters. Not anymore...