Marriage Proposal : My Traumatic Love

(Kayshila)

          That day I decided something I've done over and over and always failed. I want to take my life. I don't know how many times I decided to commit suicide, and I certainly looked at the small knife I took from the kitchen just now. A few scratches on my wrist, right in the path of my veins that look thin protruding. I can't count how many light streaks there are because the wound always heals quickly every time I commit suicide. My hope this time is, hope I succeed in taking my own life.

          I chose to sit on the emergency stairs on the 5th floor in my apartment. I hope no one tries to open the emergency door. I counted in my head, and my right hand groaned while holding the knife, ready to cut my left hand. The small knife had cut exactly the vein in my left hand. Blood immediately gushed out. It hurts. My vision has started to blur. My body started to go limp, and it looked like I was going to fall down the stairs. I looked down. I would die fast if I fell rolling down the many steps below. But in my weakness, I feel resentful. You see, I heard a noise behind the emergency door. The noise began to be heard clearly, a scream and the sound of people running together.I took a deep breath because suddenly, the shortness of breath hit me. Like oxygen doesn't get into my breath.

          "Catch him! Catch him fast!!" someone shouted. The male voice that I believe is a ruthless male.

          After that, all I remember is the door leading to the fire escape on the fifth-floor burst open with a bang. A man was surprised to see me, maybe because he saw the blood flowing from my hands and pale face. I leaned against the wall. Weak. He stopped and approached me. I couldn't see his face. My vision is blurry.

          "Are you ok? What are you doing here?!" he asked worriedly. Sweat was profuse on his forehead. The man washed my wound and took of the knife, which I was still holding tight.      He was shocked to see the blood coming out of my hand. I didn't know it was him who suddenly came running to this floor and stopped looking at me. Does he feel sorry and want to help me.

          "Go..." I said quietly.

          "What?" He didn't hear my small voice.

          "Hey!!! Where are you going!!" shouted the man who had a savage voice. He pointed at the man who was now holding my knife. He was about to attack a crowd of thugs with a knife in his hand. Stupidly, he was stuck because he found me on the emergency stairs and still had time to check on me.

          I blinked my eyes many times to get a clear vision. It's useless; my breath is getting tighter, my blood flow seems to go down from my head to my toes quickly. I'm limp.

          "I didn't do anything wrong! Why did you…"

          Two people forced the man in front of me to stand up and were about to drag him. Only this man rebelled and injured one of the thugs with a knife hitting the arm. Unfortunately, the friend whose arm was hurt by this man immediately punched him in the stomach. This man fell on his face in front of me. Suddenly, the emergency door opened again. I don't see clearly at all. A big tall man pointed a gun at this man who fell in front of me.

          Gunshots rumbled in my ears.

          All I feel is my stomach feels hot. I completely lost consciousness at that point.

(Point of View)

In the hospital,

          The lights in the operating room went out. The operational room door swung wide open a few minutes later, and two wards appeared with a gentle push. Estimated at 4 am, the operation is complete. Outside the operating waiting room, several people looked tired and restless. These people immediately stood up as the two wards came out of the operating room and swarmed the wards. One of them approached the doctor, who came out and looked tired.

          "How is my sister, Doc?" asked the pregnant woman while looking at the ward that a woman was sleeping in as well. This woman seems slightly blonde hair, white face, and is not an Indonesian.

          "Doc, how is my son?" asked the middle-aged woman towards the other ward where a man was sleeping. This woman seemed ideally a woman with a high degree, even though her appearance was very chaotic. Her blackened mascara smudged under her eyes. It looks like she's been crying. The Doctor who was treating the two patients who were lying down just said,

          "Yes, be patient. The operation was a success. Do these two people want to be put in the same room or different?" asked the Doctor. I don't know if it's severe or joking with the two patients' families.

          "Different room!" respond to the patient's family at the same time.

          "Doc, will my son be okay?" asked this middle-aged woman. Meanwhile, pregnant women just resigned themselves to staring at her sister after the operation. Her face showed to tired, and sometimes she can be seen stroking his big belly.

          "There's nothing. Your son is fine. In fact, your son's blood happens to be the same as his friend who lost a lot of blood." said the Doctor, pointing to the sleeping female patient. The woman looked at the female patient. She was feeling neglected and stroking his son's hair.

          "Well that's it. Let the two patients rest. The patient must take extra rest." The Doctor pointed at the woman who was lying pale. Then the Doctor just walked away, leaving a smile on the patient's family, and the two wards were pushed in opposite directions.

In the evening,

          A man strolls down a hospital hallway. His right hand pushed the IV pole, and his left hand pressed against the wound in the chest. His face was still pale. But he was trying to get up. Behind him, a middle-aged man followed him.

          "Dave! If Mama finds out you are like this, I will be scolded." a middle-aged man complains. His hair is half white.

          "Just a moment, Papa. I want to see her." he said.

          His father grabbed the IV pole and helped to push it.

          "Yaa, but not at this time of night either."

          This pale man had grimaced because the wound on his chest ached from a new operation. He is standing in inpatient room number 524. Kayshila Citra Keswari.

          "Is this Pa? Right?" show this man.

          "Yes. I already found out."

          This man had time to see through the small glass on the door that could directly see inside. It's a bit dark, and there's no one around. Finally, he dared to open the door to room 524 slowly. He looked around. It was too quiet, and all the curtains covered the ward. A Caucasian woman - a white woman peeked from behind the curtain. It looks like she woke up at 11 pm now. This white woman was surprised to see the pale man at that time.

          "Yes, sorry?" he asked, opening the curtains a little wider.

          A woman is lying in the ward. She still has an oxygen tube in his nose and an IV in his hand. Merely, this pale man stared at the woman lying in front of him and ignored the white woman's question.

          "Sydney."

          "Pardon?" The white woman asked because this pale man said something in a small voice. Almost whispered.

          "Sydney." The pale man repeated his words.

          "Dave?" called Papa in a whisper.

          "Sydney? True. I came from Sydney." said this white woman.

          The pale man finally looked at the white woman and smiled.

          "I found her. Finally." he said quietly.

          "Dave! Come on back!" pull Papa.

***