Married to my Downfall

The night air was thick with tension, the eerie wail of sirens cutting through the oppressive silence.

The flashing lights of the ambulance bounced off the wet pavement, creating a chaotic dance of red and blue that reflected the urgency of the situation.

Ziora gripped the steering wheel tightly as the wrecked car came into view, her heart pounding in her chest.

The mangled metal twisted into unnatural shapes, the rain-soaked road glistening with a dark, ominous sheen.

Ziora's breath hitched, her eyes welling up with tears as she took in the devastating scene. She could barely make out the shape of the car through the blur of her emotions, the sight of it sending a wave of panic crashing over her.

"Please, let her be okay," she whispered to herself, a desperate prayer that seemed to echo in the hollow space of her heart.

As soon as the ambulance pulled to a stop, the paramedics jumped out, wheeling the stretcher toward the wreck.

Ziora's heart raced as she threw open her door, bolting toward the twisted remains of the car.

But when she reached it, her breath caught in her throat—there was no one inside. Her stomach dropped, her pulse quickening as she frantically searched for any sign of Diara.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it—a dark trail of blood leading away from the wreck. Ziora's heart clenched, dread settling like a heavy weight in her chest as she followed the crimson path.

The rain had smeared the blood, making it harder to track, but she pressed on, each step bringing her closer to the nightmare that awaited her.

And then she saw her. Diara was lying motionless on the cold, wet ground, barely clinging to life.

Her clothes were soaked in blood, the vibrant red a stark contrast against her pale skin.

Ziora froze, her breath catching in her throat as the sight of her friend in such a state sent a shock of horror through her.

For a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't think—couldn't do anything but stare in disbelief.

But then instinct took over. Ziora rushed to Diara's side, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch her friend. "Diara!" she cried out, her voice breaking with fear and sorrow.

"Please, hold on! Help is coming!" She turned back toward the paramedics, her voice rising in urgency. "Over here! She's over here!"

The paramedics rushed over, their movements swift and precise as they carefully lifted Diara onto the stretcher.

Ziora stood by helplessly, her hands hovering as if afraid to touch, afraid that any wrong move might shatter what little life was left in her friend.

She watched as they strapped Diara down, the grim expressions on their faces doing nothing to soothe the terror gnawing at her insides.

"She's barely alive," one of the paramedics muttered, his voice tight with concern. "She's lost a lot of blood." They worked quickly, fixing an oxygen mask over Diara's face, the clear tube snaking down to connect with the portable tank.

"She's pregnant, and the baby's life is in danger," another added, his tone grave.

The words hit Ziora like a physical blow, her knees almost buckling under the weight of it. She staggered, reaching out to steady herself against the side of the ambulance, her hand shaking violently.

"Diara, please," she whispered, her voice raw with emotion. "Please stay alive for me. For the baby."

The paramedics lifted Diara into the ambulance, Ziora following closely behind, refusing to let go of her friend's hand.

Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the rain as she held onto Diara's limp hand, her fingers cold and unresponsive.

"You're going to be okay," Ziora whispered, more to herself than to Diara. "You have to be okay."

The doors of the ambulance slammed shut, the siren wailing once more as they sped off into the night. Ziora sat beside her friend, her hand never leaving Diara's, praying silently for a miracle.

The world outside blurred into a streak of lights and shadows, but all Ziora could focus on was the steady beeping of the heart monitor, a fragile thread of hope in the storm that raged around them.

And as the ambulance raced through the night, Ziora could only hold on, her tears falling in silent desperation as she whispered one last plea into the darkness: "Please, save them both."

The hospital's harsh fluorescent lights cast a cold, sterile glow over the scene as the ambulance screeched to a halt.

The doors flew open, and the paramedics rushed to unload the stretcher, Diara's fragile form barely clinging to consciousness.

Her eyelids fluttered weakly as they wheeled her through the bustling corridors, the sound of hurried footsteps and urgent voices fading into a distant hum.

Ziora stayed by her side, her hand clasped tightly around Diara's, as if the strength of her grip alone could keep her friend anchored to this world.

As they passed under the glaring lights, Diara's eyes flickered open, her gaze finding Ziora's. Her lips moved, barely parting as she forced out a hoarse whisper.

"Please... please save my baby." Her voice was cracked and broken, the plea carrying all the weight of her fading hope.

Ziora felt her heart shatter at those words, the pain etched across Diara's pale face cutting through her like a knife.

"I'm right here," Ziora whispered, her own voice trembling as she fought back tears. "I'm not going anywhere."

But Diara's eyes were already closing again, the exhaustion overtaking her as the medical team wheeled her into the emergency ward.

Ziora was left standing outside, the doors to the ward closing with a finality that made her stomach drop.

She clasped her hands together, pressing them tightly to her chest as she began to pray. The words tumbled out in a frantic, desperate stream, a plea to whatever higher power might be listening.

"Please, don't take her. Don't take the baby. She's been through so much already. Please, don't let her suffer any more."

The minutes dragged on, each one stretching into an eternity as Ziora stood there, her body rigid with tension.

She couldn't shake the image of Diara's bloodied face, the sound of her broken voice pleading for the life of her child.

Every fiber of Ziora's being willed the universe to grant this one mercy, to spare her friend from yet another unbearable loss.

Finally, the door to the ward creaked open, and Ziora's head snapped up, her heart pounding in her chest.

A doctor stepped out, his face solemn, his eyes heavy with the weight of what he was about to say.

Ziora's breath caught in her throat as she braced herself, a part of her already knowing what was coming.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, then met her gaze. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice gentle but firm. "But we lost the baby."

The words hit Ziora like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. She staggered back, her hands flying to her mouth as a choked sob escaped her.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "No, no, no..." The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, hot and unrelenting as they streamed down her face.

Ziora's legs gave out beneath her, and she crumpled to the floor, her body wracked with sobs.

She couldn't fathom the pain Diara would feel when she woke up, couldn't imagine the agony of losing the child she had fought so hard to protect.

All Ziora could do was weep, her prayers now turned to silent, heartbroken cries for the friend she loved so dearly.