The Long Wait

 

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PHOTO CREDITS: KHADIJA KHAN, M.B.B.S., BATCH XX

 

BY: MAHA ZUBAIR, M.B.B.S., BATCH XXII

The dark ocean lay out before her. She stood at the edge of the cliff as the waves crashed violently against the rocks below. Her expression stayed stoic, as lightning illuminated the sky, followed by thunder rumbling in the distance. The cold wind lashed against her, and the skies opened above her as the rain came down hard, but she did not flinch.

She stood patiently, waiting. She waited as she did every Thursday night. The night he was supposed to return. The night that never seemed to come. But she held on to the one thing he left her with; the promise of a life together. And so she waited.

He had set forth on the voyage with a parting kiss and a vow to marry her upon his return. She was shattered when the news of the shipwreck came. An overwhelming feeling of dread and grief took over her. But strangely, the grief was followed by a calmness. A false sense of comfort that he would eventually return to her.
Thus every Thursday night, she would return to the cliff and wait for him. She hoped against hope that perhaps he would make his way back to her. Of late, her paranoia had been getting worse. People questioned her sanity and wondered how long she would keep her life at a standstill, for a dead man.
As she stood on the cliff staring at the darkness ahead, she started humming his favourite song. She smiled as memories of them singing together flashed through her mind. The sky roared with thunder as she stood there shivering, whilst singing softly to herself. Suddenly she stopped.
Her heart skipped a beat. He was there! Or was he? She could hear his voice calling out to her. He had come back! Her heart pounded against her chest violently. She stood there without even questioning her sense of reality. Blinking back a stream of joyful tears, she turned around to look at her city one last time. This was it, the time she had eagerly waited for months. She was ready.
Closing her eyes, she jumped into the ice cold water. For passers-by, it was her end. For her, a beautiful beginning.

About the author: A reserved, yet, friendly Potterhead with a phobia of doors and a morbid sense of humour. P.S. I love cheese 

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