The AC was on. The fans blade spun steadily and I had even dared to leave the window open. It's harmattan season and it's also one of the day I love coldness to seep into me. I took my bath with cold water and put on a short bra top, on the table occupying my room where my were my books were sitting perfectly lies a cup of ice cubes. I knew the consequence of this would be a dangerous one. I am pneumonic but I did not care. I just wanted to feel something different. Something cold.

The knob of my door turned down

The moment my mother stepped in, she screamed and ran out instead.

Her scream alerted my father and he sprinted out of his room. He met her at the entrance to mine, already wailing and pointing instead of speaking. Without asking further questions Dad rushed in. As he let himself into my room, he gasped, shook his head slowly, and without a word to me, began turning off every comfort I was enjoying earlier and put on the home heater. He did all of that not sparing me a gaze.

That silence?

I knew I was in for it

My father is one who chastises with silence because he knows I can't survive a day not talking to him. He is my favorite person in the whole world. I love my mother too but Dad and I, we are just different. sometimes, mum would jokingly call me "husband snatcher". .

I am their only child and I honestly can't ask for better parents. They have been there for me through thick and thin.

As dad was about to exit my room I summoned the courage to speak. I called him and he paused a little with his hand on the door knob still backing me.

That pause broke me.

He didn't reply in his usual warm voice. He didn't even turn. I said again, more softly this time "Dad..... please, I'm sorry.

This time he turned and the look on his face?

Disappointment, clear as a day.

He called my name.

And that shattered me, I couldn't remember the last time he had called me by my real name, it is mostly baby, angel, sweetie- never my actual name.

He shook his head and walked out.

I quickly pulled on a long trousers and a sweatshirt and dash out of my room to fix things. First, I checked his bedroomroom and he wasn't there. I knew where he would be. The study. I knew better not to go there; that place is sacred, especially when he is upset.

So I headed to my mother's room instead.

I took a deep breath in and out then knock gently. No response. I figured she knew it was me. I knocked again and got no response still. I let myself in and found her folding some clothes, I greeted her and she murmured a response. "Mom", I called softly.

she ignored, me pretending not to hear.

This is what I hate most "silent treatment" and the painful part is that it's coming from the two most important people in my life.

I moved closer to her and hugged her tightly from behind, she stopped what she was doing and turned to me, she then pulled herself from my hold and hissed lightly.

Mummy please, don't do this to me I pleaded, my voice breaking.

she turned sharply, and again called my name. how could my day be so bad I thought, her voice jerked me out of my thoughts.

I shouldn't do what exactly? she asked, calm but terrifyingly cold. "The moment I walked out of your room earlier, I had given my gave up on you as my daughter'.

Those words hit harder than anything else.

I have never seen my mother that angry. Her face was expressionless, but the intense heat of her disappointment radiated like fire. I became scared and my whole body weight rested on my knee.

My knee could not take the weight making it giving in to the floor and then I hit my knee on the floor, on a normal atmosphere I would have winced but I couldn't because the pain of her words made my skin numb and insensitive.

She continued:

How could you hate us this much? You know we can't bear to see you in pain, yet keep doing things that hurt you.... that hurt us. Do you know the how many nights we've stayed awake for you? How many opportunity we've lost because we refused to leave you in the care of others.

Tears flow freely down my face.

You want to die? she quizzed. At least let it be natural But must you always throw it to our face that you're all we have.

When you we were diagnosed, our world shattered. But we accepted it. We embraced the challenge. In every decisions, you always come first, and still you act like this? So wicked....selfish and insensitive. Ever since I was born my mother hasn't been this harsh to me.

I crawled to her side, held her legs, and wept harder like I've ever wept. I am sorry mum... I didn't mean it like that. Please forgive me. I wasn't thinking..."

My tears must have reached her. Slowly, she pulled me up and dried my face with her scarf. I held her hand tightly still apologizing.

"I promise.... I promise I will never do that again....Never".

She most have felt the sincerity of my words. She drew me closer into her arms, and we stayed like that- mother and daughter- just breathing.

We chatted warmly after that,I was beginning to feel whole again.

Before I left, I begged her to talk to Dad for me. I didn't know how to face him. Not yet. Not until I made it right.

Fareedah M.