I WANT TO LIVE...
Fatimah's mother ran towards the rooftop.
She panicked, fearing the worst.
At the stairs that led to the rooftop, she was stopped by two paramedics sealing off the entrance.
"I'm her mother ... I need to see her."
She clutched at one of them with desperation.
"Ma'am, please," a female paramedic held her gently but firmly. "Stay calm ... we already have trained and reliable responders up there."
"You don't want to scare and trigger her, right?"
Fatimah's mother nodded, trembling.
"They are handling it. The best way you can help her right now... is to stay calm and allow the responders to do their job." The paramedic said assuring her.
Her legs gave out.
She sank to the floor, feeling helpless —dejected.
She wished there is something more she could do at that moment.
Her daughter is currently standing at the very edge, preparing to fall into the abyss... and there is nothing she could do —absolutely nothing.
She struck her chest hard, sobbing.
"It's my fault. I failed her ... I was not enough!"
The Paramedic empathized with her and crouched low to console her.
"Be..."
A roar erupted from outside, cutting her off.
It wasn't a single voice.
It sounded like a commotion.
Urgent —panicked.
"Oh God — she is falling! —they are falling"
Fatimah's mother's head snapped up.
"No..No!"
She staggered to her feet and ran.
As she ran—
She prayed within her, —something, anything, should please save her daughter.
***
I had wanted to die alone.
But now—
I am dragging an innocent soul with me.
I didn't plan for it to go this way.
It shouldn't be this way.
The wind roared through her ears, violent, threatening to deafen her.
She wished the wind could also mute her thought and the awareness that she had lost her last chance.
She wanted to cry so badly but the tears won't fall.
Through her pain, she still felt a tightness gripping her hand firm —passing warmth to her.
She knew it was him.
She had expected him to say something—
a curse, a shout… even to let go—
but she heard—
Nothing.
Is it that this man is not afraid of dying?
She opened her eyes and met his.
He didn't look afraid. He tightened his grip on her more, as if telling her —don't be afraid.
Is he just brave....
or stupid?
We are falling, and he is still worried about her.
His eyes flickered downward—just once.
Then back to her.
They were falling faster now.
Ten floors.
Seven.
Five.
The ground rushed up to meet them.
She shut her eyes.
This was it.
No second chances. Just the solid quietness.
And a bitter legacy left behind.
In that short moment, she prayed.
Not for herself, but for him.
She shut her eyes tight and...
WHOOOOMMMPPH!!
For a moment, everything went quiet—still. As if someone had put a pause to all actions.
People watching the fall, stood still —unmoving.
Then a loud cheer erupted from the crowd—explosive, disbelieving.
"wait...what is happening."
The impact had been lighter —softer, almost cushioning than she had expected.
She ought to feel the crushing pain by now, the gory smell of blood. Her sense ought to start fading now but.....
Why did she feel like this...
No pain, just pressure ... weight.
As if she had not just fallen from twenty-seven storeys.
Something is not right. People should be gasping and lamenting —why are they cheering.
Slowly, unsure, she opened her eyes.
Her eyes went straight to the rooftop above —distant. It was real, she fell along with him.
"Are you okay!". He had been asking that for the past few seconds, but she didn't seem to hear him.
"What happened!?", she whispered in confusion.
He let out a short breathless laugh. "Rescue team ... and a giant air cushion."He whispered.
She turned her head slightly.
Beneath them—an enormous inflated cushion sagged under their weight, its surface dented where they had landed.
Around them, responders rushed in.
"Don't move!" one of the paramedics called.
"Stay still—you might be injured."
Hands moved quickly but carefully.
A rigid board slid beneath them.
Then a vacuum mattress—its air hissing as it molded tightly around their bodies, locking them in place.
"You're in shock," Jalal murmured, still holding her hand. "Just stay with me."
Fatimah looked into his eyes, and felt the assurance she had long needed. The kind of protection she had wanted.
Tears brimmed and clouded her vision.
"I want to live..."
Fatimah uttered, softly —only he heard.
Jalal tightened his grip on her hand, looking deep into her eyes without saying anything.
"But… you need to get off me first. You're crushing me." Fatimah said weakly, and smiled as she watched him scramble to the sides.
Something about him felt —safe.
By the time Fatimah's mother reached outside—
She was too late.
Or so she thought.
Her heart pounded violently at the thought of seeing her daughter laying there in a pool of her blood, body positioned like a marionette fading into the forever abyss.
She couldn't bear to lose her.
She was the only thing she had left of him—the man she gave her youth to.
When she got out, all she saw was —
A deflating rescue cushion.
Paramedics moving.
A stretcher.
A body—
"Fatimah! No—!"
"Mummy?"
She froze. That voice.
She wasn't dead.
Her daughter was alive.