Abraham sat at his desk in the dimly lit office, his eyes staring blankly at the computer screen. He worked tirelessly, as he had for the past year, since the tragedy that had torn his life apart. His boss, Mr. Samuel, was a harsh man who seemed to enjoy making Abraham’s life miserable. He constantly piled on extra work, forced him to stay late, and never offered a single penny in overtime. But Abraham endured it all in silence. He had no choice.
The memory of his five-year-old daughter, Sarah, who had died during the Covid-19 outbreak, haunted him every day. He and his wife, Mary, had cherished her, and losing her had shattered them both. But Abraham could not break down. He had to be strong for Mary.
Mary had fallen ill not long after Sarah’s death. The doctors had told Abraham that she had cancer, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. She had already suffered so much, and he didn’t want to see her in more pain.
She thought she was suffering from a simple illness, and Abraham made sure it stayed that way. He spent every penny he earned on her treatment, but it never seemed to be enough.
One evening, as Abraham worked late yet again, his boss stormed over to his desk. “Why are you so slow? I need these reports done now!” Mr. Samuel barked, his voice cold and unfeeling.
Abraham swallowed his frustration and nodded. “I’m doing my best, sir.”
“Your best isn’t good enough!” Mr. Samuel snapped. “You’re a burden to this company. Don’t think for a second you’re irreplaceable.”
Abraham’s hands trembled as he typed. He had heard these threats before, but this time something felt different. Sure enough, an hour later, Mr. Samuel called him into his office.
“You’re fired,” Mr. Samuel said bluntly. “Pack your things and leave.”
Abraham’s heart sank. “Sir, please… I need this job. My wife is ill. I can’t afford to lose it.”
Mr. Samuel glared at him without a hint of sympathy. “That’s not my problem. You’re done here.”
Abraham left the office in a daze, carrying his few belongings in a small box. As he stepped out into the cold night air, the weight of his situation pressed down on him. How would he take care of Mary now? He wandered through the streets, knocking on doors and visiting offices, desperately looking for a job, but no one would hire him.
Days passed, and their savings dwindled. In the end, Abraham found work as a waiter at a small hotel. It paid very little, and the hours were long, but it was the only job he could find. He had to work late into the night, and Mary, helpless and weak, waited for him at home.
One night, Abraham returned home to find Mary in bed, pale and shaking with pain. Her condition had worsened. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered, trying to reassure him, but he knew she wasn’t. He rushed her to the hospital.
The doctor’s expression was grim. “Her condition is critical. We need to start advanced treatment immediately, but it will cost ten million dollars.”
Abraham’s heart sank. Ten million dollars? How could he ever raise such a huge amount? He tried everything. He ran from one person to another, begging for help, but no one had that kind of money to lend. His colleagues at the hotel offered what little they could, but it wasn’t enough.
Days passed, and Abraham found himself standing outside the hospital, his head in his hands. He had failed. He had failed Mary. When he walked into the hospital room, he found it empty. Panic surged through him as he rushed to the nurse.
“Where is my wife?” he asked, his voice shaking.
The nurse looked at him with sad eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Abraham. She passed away this morning. We tried to reach you, but…”
Abraham collapsed into a chair, the world spinning around him. His mind couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. It felt like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “This can’t be happening.”
The nurse gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Her body is in the mortuary.”
Abraham stumbled to the mortuary, his legs feeling like they would give out any moment. When he saw Mary’s lifeless body, cold and still, lying under a white sheet, the dam inside him finally broke. He fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry, Mary,” he cried, gripping her hand. “I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t do anything.”
The hospital was eerily quiet as Abraham stayed by her side, lost in his grief. He had lost everything—his daughter, his wife, his job. The world had taken everything from him, leaving him broken and alone.
In the days that followed, Abraham arranged a simple funeral for Mary, the love of his life. As he stood by her grave, watching the earth cover her coffin, he felt a hollowness inside him. His heart was shattered beyond repair.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered one last time, his voice choked with tears. “I hope you and Sarah are together now.”
Abraham walked away from the graveyard with nothing left but memories and pain. His world, once filled with love and hope, had crumbled to dust, and he was left to wander through the remains, searching for a reason to keep going.
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