Ambiguity

Mrs Chohan casually entered her room to tell her that the makeup artist and hairdresser were here, but when she saw her lying on the floor with blood gurgling out of her mouth and sprouting out of her hand to drown their Italian triple thread silk rug in a thick, sticky and unusually dark sea of blood, she dropped by her side screaming and crying in agony. Asia was in a state of utter and vicious despair. She could hear the voices, feel the actions but couldn't move or say a word. Mrs Chohan sat down on the floor trying to stop the bleeding somehow. She cried out for help, yelled for Mr Chohan and Ali who came to the room running and panting. Everything was happening in a fast forward fashion, the voices in the backdrop were muted. The tension started to grow and the consciousness started to drop proportionally.

Asia woke up in the hospital bed and looked around and saw the eerily similar hospital room. She saw Mrs Chohahn sitting on the couch scrolling away on her phone. She looked at her hands and was surprised to find that the gashes she had slashed on her hand had already healed completely. There was not even a single mark on her palm. "Wow modern medicine is pretty efficient," she mumbled to herself and realised that her throat didn't hurt like she thought it would. "Mam, a what time is it? Did you cancel the shoot?"

"O,h honey! You're up! What shoot? Gunshots? I didn't hear anything?"

"No. I mean my photoshoot."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Did you have a photoshoot today? For the yearbook?"

"No my own. I mean my pre-wedding shoot! The one that was scheduled for today." Said Asia in an exasperated tone.

"Who is getting married? You didn't tell me earlier. Aren't your finals in a month?"

"No. What is wrong with you? My own pre-wedding shoot?"

"What do you mean?"

"We had decided for the pre-wedding shoot? Don't you remember? Why was the Makeup artist or hairdresser coming, then?"

"No makeup artist and hairdresser will be coming to the hospital. And sweetie, we didn't hire anyone. What is happening to you?"

"Not in the hospital. I meant at home. I just don't get it how could you just forget about the shoot all of a sudden. We've been planning it since the engagement day."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I think we need to call the doctor."

Mrs Chohan left the room frantically and went to call the doctor.

"Mama, listen! Where are you going? Where is dad?"

"How could she literally forget about something so important? Maybe because of my conditions. She is probably in shock. I don't know, why I did this. I don't know why I did this to myself. Now all my pictures will be ruined. Ughh!!?"

She looked for her phone around the room. She needed to call Fahad. Ideally, Fahad should've already been standing here waiting for her to regain consciousness. His absence was prickling her chest but she tried to suppress the feeling of diluted insecurity that was seeping into her veins like carbon monoxide and tried to get up from the bed. As she was trying to get up she realised that a urinary catheter was attached to her bladder. The feeling of not being able to urinate properly quite unpleasant and unsettling.

She couldn't understand the reasoning behind the use of a urine bag. She remembered cutting up her palm and throat but not her bladder.

"What did I do to myself? This is so embarrassing. God forbid if Fahad was here and saw me in this state, where I have my stinky straw-coloured urine hanging by my bedside." She shuddered at the mere imagery that was going on in her mind.

The door flung open and in came Fahad, in a lab coat with a stethoscope hanging around her neck, with a very worried Mrs Chohan and a bunch of nurses and doctors.