- By Zunaira Fatima
A DEBT TO BE PAID
By Zunaira Fatima
The soft beep of the heart monitor fills the room. It’s a direct contrast to the shallow breaths of the man lying on his deathbed, waiting for the devil to make an appearance. Or so he claims and smile. The old man struggles to catch one breath at a time. His eyes constantly scan the room for any signs of unusualness.
“I see you’re up early.” He looks in the direction of the door. The nurse enters the room and proceeds to check his drip.
“Yeah- uh. I had a nightmare.” He spoke with great difficulty. It was a chore to get these small amounts of words out.
“Having nightmares this early in the morning? While the sun is barely out? Usually not a good sign”, she smile softly. The man returns the gesture, but it’s difficult for him. His body feels as fragile as autumn leaves clinging to a branch, ready to be carried away by the gentle breeze. With his worsening condition, it’s a miracle that he has made it this far.
The old man appears to be in a pitiable state, as the nurse has never seen any visitors come to see him. His only source of happiness seems to be the sight of the changing seasons outside his window and his interactions with the nurse. However, a few weeks ago, he started experiencing discomfort from the light coming in through the window, and since then, he has kept the curtains closed. As a result, his only source of joy now is his interactions with the nurse.
The nurse detaches the IV drip and attaches a new one. The man sees the same scar on her arm as he has seen for the last few months. It seems like it is a pretty nasty stab wound. It’s one of the many things he was curious to know about her. He always thought about inquiring, but he also has a couple of unexplained scars he doesn’t want to discuss. It’s wise to let sleeping graves lie.
He motions towards her scar before he can overthink himself. She looks at it and raises an eyebrow. “How?” he asks. This was all he was able to do.
“You’re asking me how I got this scar?”
He slightly nods. He was dying. He knew that. He might as well satisfy his curiosity.
“Oh, it’s a long story,” she sighs. “And not a pretty one.” Her tone might be sombre, but there was definitely a thrill in her voice. “And it’s top-secret,” she winked to lighten the atmosphere.
“I’ll take it to the grave,” he said, giving her a pointed look. The nurse laughed and sat down beside him. People knew they had bonded greatly during his stay. Ever since he was admitted, she’s been his nurse, giving him extra attention and care. She even visited him on her days off and checked his reports and medicine daily. She had become a daughter he never really had.
It was still dark outside, and she didn’t have any piled-up work. She looks at the monitor and the drip before she shakes her head. “I suppose it’s finally time.”
“Come down for dinner, or it’s no dinner for you, guys!” The woman shouted from downstairs.
“Coming!” The two kids replied simultaneously.
The little boy knocked on the door to a small bedroom. “Let’s go quickly. Mom says no dinner. Hurry up!” He whined.
His older sister looks back from her closet. “Yeah, I know. I am coming in second. You go ahead.”
There was a sharp knock at the front door. “I will get it!” The boy exclaims and hops downstairs, not before giving his sister a warning look. His sister chuckles and resumes to find her favorite hoodie. Just as she was about to grab it, a scream filled the house. It was her mother’s smile.
Her stomach drops before she dashes downstairs. Her heart is beating faster than ever. She sees her brother’s lifeless body by the front door. He was lying in a pool of blood. No longer was he hopping and jumping.
Her mother was crawling to escape a few feet away from him, but a sturdy man had her hair in his tight grip. “Now, where do you think you’re going?” He sneered at her.
Just before the knife met her throat, her father covered her eyes. She stood, paralyzed, in the middle of the room. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening.
“Go and hide somewhere. Go, GO!” Her father whispered and pushed her back upstairs. It was then her senses kicked in. She ran upstairs and into her closet. Her favorite hoodie lying on the floor. She tried to shrink herself as small as possible and hide where that monster wouldn’t catch her. She had her heart in her ears.
The mother’s agonized shrieks and her father’s shouts continued for a while. And then there was complete silence. THUD. THUD. THUD. The sounds of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. Nearing her slowly. “I know you’re here somewhere.” The killer singsong. That monster was enjoying his adventure.
It stopped at the base of her closet. She bit her hoodie, trying to keep her sobs in. Suddenly, the closet’s door opened, and the man lunged at her.
“Here you are!” He smiled at her. She screamed, tossed, and attacked him like a wild cat.
“Get away from me! Leave me alone!” she shouted. The man threw her right across the room. The pain shut her up. Just then, another man entered and grabbed the sturdy man’s hand.
“Let’s go, boss. We have done what we came for.”
The boss jerked his arm out of his grasp.
“The debt is still not fully paid. She is left.”
The other man shakes his head. “It’s not worth it. We have already killed him. The police could be arriving soon; let’s go!” He was frustrated.
“A debt is to be paid.” He reaches for her, and despite all her struggles, a nasty stab wound graces her arm. The man reaches for her again, but the distant police siren stops him.
“Let’s go!” The other man was a little more assertive now. He stops his boss before he can finish her off, and the boss pushes him out the door. “We have bigger problems.”
The boss looks back at her. “You’re going to hell.” She states it in a faint whisper and smile. Her body was barely conscious.
The man smile and laughed, “Oh, trust me. When my time comes, I am sure the devil himself will welcome me to hell.” With that, he left the room. The last thing the girl saw was her favorite hoodie soaked in blood oozing from her wound.
The beeping of the heart monitor seemed to have increased. The old man’s eyes widened.
“Y-you, you-“ he said, past the point of constructing a proper response.
“Yes, I am her.”
The old man’s eyes shined with tears. “I am sorry.” He wheezed out. “I am the- “
“I know.” She cut in. “And please, don’t be sorry.” She waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss him.
“You do?” he asked, stunned. “But you took such good care of me.”
“I did?” she smiled her similar smile. “No wonder your condition didn’t improve.” She gave a mock gasp.
It dawned on him. He looked at the drip and then at her. His mind was all fuzzy. He searched her eyes. He refused to believe what he was witnessing. “A debt is to be paid.” She said it softly and smile and patted his head as if he were a pet dog.
“What did you do to me?” Breathing was becoming more difficult by the minute. He was choking on the air vigorously, sweat covering his body. He was barely conscious, but he kept an intense look on his face. Everything blacked out but her face. Her kind eyes and similar smile.
“Welcome to hell.” She said, as the heart monitor gave its last beep.
