It was late in the evening. It was cold. But she stood on the highway side, looking down the overbridge to the roads beneath. The vehicles were streaming fast that it almost was like the lights just flashing down. It was windy, and her hair kept falling on her face that she almost wished to crop it off. Her hands touched the cold concrete wall in front of her. It was snow falling. Her feet felt rooted to the place, unable to move. She stood there, overloaded with thoughts. It is Christmas Eve. She was supposed to head out of town to meet her parents and take a guest. But everything was cancelled when it was meant to be a big day. The cancellations, she hated it, but she couldn’t help it.
The sky was not clear, and there were no stars, no moon, but just the freezing temperature. The cold was reaching up her feet. She was neither wearing boots and gloves nor a jacket. She wondered why it never occurred to her to dress warmly, then she recalled, she was storming out of the house to find refuge elsewhere. She wanted to run away and nothing more.
The feeling of wanting to run away cannot be compared with anything else. Wishing you could flee, followed by the thoughts of how running away is not an answer, how quitting is not an option, and you are forced to make a decision, to put your heads and face the problem, even if it is embarrassing. You forget that you don't owe anyone. You forget that you have a debt to be repaid.
She stood there without realizing the weather as the hours passed. She slowly sat down in the road, and she felt a snowflake touch her cheek and slowly slide down. Her body ached. She felt the snowflakes melting. It was tasteless. The snowflakes entered her mouth as they slid down the face mixed up with something salty tears along. She closed her eyes as she reached down the ground, slowly drifting off to tiredness and sleep. She had lost the sense of the place she was in. She heard roaring wind and vehicles in the distance. There were noises of honking and sudden brakes in the road. Nothing bothered her as she fell deep into her drowsiness. 'I will not forgive him,' that was her thought. 'I will never forgive him for what he had done to me.'
“No,” she whispered to something she heard. Someone was trying to help her stand on her legs, but she refused to. 'No,' she tried to push off. She was too weak to do anything. She did not even open her eyes properly. But she was carried away.
Hours passed again, and Miranda felt warm and cosy in the bed, covered in a thick quilt. She looked out the window, the curtains in the room were blocking the sun rays entering the inside, and it was already morning. She yawned and slept for another ten more minutes. She wanted to sleep in, but the bed felt different. 'What happened?' She wondered in her sleep. A few seconds later, she jumped out of bed like spring, all of a sudden realizing it is a different place. She looked around the room, “Oh shit,” she saw a man sleeping on the worn-out couch opposite her. She noticed she had IV being given
to her. She buried her head in the pillow, lying down again. She tried to recall what had happened the previous night. "What the hell happened? Why am I in a hospital?" She asked herself. She slowly recalled the past. She did not blackout after all. The scenes entered her head one by one. She clutched onto her hair and pressed her face against the bed. She was embarrassed as she remembered every single thing.
“It is going to be a stormy night; get on your feet, miss. You can’t be this wasted on the express highway.”
“No,” she said again. She looked like a mess.
“Oh my god,” he yelled. “Ice cold,” he helped her into the car. “You need to go to a hospital.”
He took out the stall from his car, rubbed the tear stain off her face, and carried her to the vehicle, laying her down in the passenger seats. He drove fast and took her to a nearby hospital. He called for assistance and rushed her to the casualty to check her health condition.
“Does she have hypothermia?” he kept asking the doctor.
“No, no, she is fine.”
“She was drunk when I found her,” he told the doctor.
“She is not drunk, her body is extremely weak from stress, and she has low blood pressure and HB count. She looks like she hasn’t had proper food for days. All she needs is sound sleep and lots of nutrients,” the doctor explained her chart and walked out of the room. He rushed to find the cafeteria in the hospital to get some soup as the nurse gave her an IV. She looked too weak to respond.
She was fed some warm soup and given medicines. And she fell asleep. He decided to stay the night since it was too late to drive back to his dorm—an unexpected Christmas Eve in the hospital.
“It is fine, lie down. The doctor will come any minute,” she heard him say. She looked upon his face, slowly sitting up. She moved the pillow and quilt away and pressed her hair.
“I am so sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean any of this. It must have been a huge inconvenience,” Miranda began with her series of apologies, but he stopped her.
“Relax,” he said, smiling, he looked familiar, but her head felt heavy, and she did not bother to think much. Miranda looked at him for a moment and took her eyes off him. 'Whatever,' she thought.
“Have your breakfast before it gets cold,” he asked her to eat as he put on his black trench coat. He looked familiar again, but Miranda didn’t bother to recall purposefully. The doctor came for the rounds and advised Miranda to take care of her health seriously. She smiled and agreed with him as he let them discharge.
“I will drop you off and leave,” the guy said.
“It’s all right. I will take a cab,” Miranda replied.
“No. Just get in. I will drop you off on the way,” he ordered her strictly, and she didn’t say another way and hopped in.
She gave him her address, and he drove reluctantly in comfortable silence. “What are you doing now?”
“Waiting for the processing of my resignation.”
“Oh! You were working, thought you would be a student,” he said
“I know,”
“You should be studying,” he suggested. “Why did you work?”
‘Why does he care?’ she thought. “Internship at T Fashion magazine happened. I accidentally became a permanent staff member and lived somebody else’s dream wilfully,” she blurted out. He didn’t say anything. They remained silent. The same old pain of the stab in her chest soon returned to her. She hated it. “
“What are you doing? What’s your name?” she asked him back to distract herself. “Niall, I am majoring in Chemistry, basically Researching,” he told her.
“That’s” she paused, searching for words to say. “Nice,” She hated chemistry back in school and math, which drove her to take the literature major and fall in love with it. He laughed. She still hadn’t taken a proper look at him.
“Miranda,” he began, but she stopped him.
“I enrolled for post-graduation. The semester begins next week,” he smiled and said nothing. They reached her home after half an hour's journey.
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything,” she said again. I will transfer you the money today. I won’t forget,”
He was smiling. “It is fine. It’s all right. Take your time Miranda,” he said and nodded. “Merry Christmas,” he wished her.
“Merry Christmas,” She wished him back. She had no idea at all. She thanked him again and walked back home as he took off and left the street. The weather was still trickling cold. She took the steps instead of the elevator to the 3rd floor. Her studio looked too shabby because of her tantrums the previous day.
She changed her dress, sat on the couch, and looked around the room. She could not stop her thoughts from going back to her past again and again.
It was the weekend, and they wanted to go on a road trip. But he had to stay back for a meeting at the company. She promised she wouldn’t be going home out of town. And she let him stay with her for the day. He was tired after work and laid down in her bed next to her. He was holding her hands as he took a nap. She laid awake, looking at him, running her finger through his forehead down to his jaw.
“Can’t stop admiring my handsome face, but there is a lot more to do so?” he said, smiling through his sleep.
“Oh shut up,” she said and laughed. “Nothing for now, okay!”
He pulled her closer, “Really? Nothing for the next three years?”
“You came up with a plan, and I simply agreed to that. Can you deny it?”
“I know. I wish my brain didn’t,” he said, hugging her.
“I am glad your brain did. I love you, the brain of my man,” and they laughed.
He gave a peck on her lips and continued to sleep.
Miranda opened her eyes and stood up from the couch. 'Stop thinking about the dead things. What is over is over,' she scolded herself. She took the blankets from the floor and picked up her pillows. She walked toward the bed and put on the bedspread. She corrected it and cleaned her mattress. She put the dirty clothes in the laundry and began to tidy up the room. It’s been a month since she had been living like a zombie. A month since she was cheated.
She was neglecting everything that came her way. But she was glad she made up her mind to go back to college.
