Chapter 7 ۵ Insanity

YARA'S POV

My struggles with Professor Moreno had been all-consuming, but that day, a new crisis was about to push everything else aside.

I was in the library, trying to concentrate on my notes, when my phone buzzed. The screen displayed a message from Jasmine: "Call me. It's important."

Jasmine usually wrote minimum words in her text so this was nothing out of the ordinary. I stepped outside and dialed her number, yawning whilst waiting for her to pick up.

"Yara, you need to come home" Jasmine's concerned voice came through, trembling "Dad's in the hospital" All of a sudden my tiredness jolted right out of me. Panic surged through me. "What happened Jas? Is he okay?" Of course he's not okay he's in the hospital.

"It's bad Yara. Really bad" Jasmine said, her voice barely controlled. "He collapsed this morning. They're running tests, but we don't have any answers yet" she sounded like she was about to cry on the end of the phone. Jas never liked to display her sled or weak or even come near to crying, this is how I knew it truly was bad. I felt the world shift beneath me. Without another thought, I packed up my things and rushed to the nearest train station, my mind a whirlwind of worry. My lectures could wait.

The journey home felt endless. Every minute seemed to stretch longer as I replayed Jasmine's words. When I finally arrived at the hospital, the sterile smell and anxious faces in the waiting area did nothing to calm my nerves. I spotted Jasmine sitting alone, her usually warm face looking pale with worry. I hurried over and hugged her tightly.

"How is he?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"They're still running tests" Jasmine replied. "The doctors said it's serious, but we don't know much yet. I've been trying to hold it together, but it's really flipping hard Yara, they won't even let me see him" her voice trembled causing my heart to ache.

We sat together in the waiting area, the minutes dragging as we waited for any news. Hours later, a doctor approached us, his expression grave.

"Follow me. I'm afraid your father's condition is quite serious" he said. "He's suffered  from a severe stroke. We're doing everything we can, but the next few hours will be critical" The words hit me like a blow. I felt a wave of dizziness "Can we see him?" I asked with pleading eyes.

"Yes, but only for a short time. Your mother is already inside the room" the doctor said. "He's stable for now, but it's important to prepare for the possibility of a long recovery"

Jasmine and I were led to my father's room. We ran to our mum giving a death gripping hug. Seeing him lying there, so vulnerable and unresponsive, was almost unbearable. I took his hand, feeling its coldness, and fought to hold back my tears. It was a heart-wrenching sight, my once strong and dependable father reduced to this state.

"We have to stay strong for him," Jasmine said quietly, her voice a mix of fear and resolve. "We need to be here for him"

I nodded, struggling to keep my emotions in check. The hours that followed were filled with uncertainty and worry as we took turns sitting with him and speaking with doctors. The weight of the situation made everything else seem trivial, including my academic troubles and Professor Moreno's harshness.

As the days went by, my father's condition slowly stabilized, though the prognosis remained uncertain. He would need extensive rehabilitation and therapy, and the road to recovery would be long and challenging.

In the midst of this personal crisis, I found  from Heidi. Max also reached out, showing empathy I hadn't expected

The days following my father's stroke felt like a relentless cascade of worry and stress. Jasmine and I took shifts at the hospital, trying to stay strong for each other and for Dad. His condition improved slightly each day, though the doctors were cautious in their optimism. They explained that while he was stable, the full extent of the damage was still uncertain. The uncertainty was a heavy weight, one that seemed to grow with each passing hour.

One evening, as I sat in the hospital's waiting room, exhausted and emotionally drained, my mum approached with a concerned look. "Yara, there's something I need to tell you. I've been getting calls from the university. They're worried about you" I sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. "I haven't been able to keep up with anything. I've missed so many classes and assignments mama I just....."

"I know my love" my mum said gently. "But you need to take care of yourself too. You can't let everything fall apart because of this. Dad would want you to carry on with your studies" she rubbed by back. Her words struck a chord, but I knew she was right. I just couldn't commit to studying with the anticipation of what would happen to my dad in the back of my mind. I had missed at least a week off university now. God, this was going to be a lot to catch up on. How was I going to explain this to Mr Moreno without him completely lashing out on. The stress was unbearable and was coming from every side possible. In the following days I made the effort to go over topics looked at in lectures I had missed. I made notes from online videos whilst sitting at the hospital, waiting for my dad to positively respond.

Despite the chaos, there were moments of respite. Heidi and Max continued to support me, checking in regularly and offering practical help. Heidi even came by the hospital to visit, bringing some much needed comfort. As the weeks passed, Dad's condition gradually improved. He was moved from intensive care to a regular ward, and the doctors were optimistic about his recovery. Though there were still many hurdles ahead, each small improvement was a beacon of hope.

I made my way out of the hospital, getting some much needed fresh air. Only to see Heidi. I couldn't help but smile "Heidi, you know you don't have to come all this way girl" I looked at her with a sheepish smile glued to my face.

"I know but I needed to you Yara. How's everything going?"

"It's been rough, but it's getting better. Dad's making progress, so that's something"

"I've missed out on so many lectures. I feel like my life's going to shit"

"How about this, I'll get Max to send over his work so you can go over it?" She suggested. What would I do without her?

We spent hours speaking about life. The conversation we had was much needed and made me feel alive again. We even went to a cafe like we used to. I missed this.

Back at the hospital, I resumed my vigil at Dad's bedside. He was more alert now, and while he couldn't speak much, his eyes conveyed a depth of gratitude and love. I often read to him from books he used to enjoy, hoping that somehow it might comfort him. I made sure he wouldn't see me crying.

One evening, as I was sitting by his bed, Jasmine walked in with a tentative expression. She had been staying at home more often to manage household responsibilities, but she made a point of visiting Dad whenever she could "I talked to the doctors today" Jasmine said quietly. "They're starting to discuss a rehabilitation plan. It's a good sign, but it's going to be a long process"

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "We'll take it one step at a time" I smiled tiredly looking at my dad.

The coming days were filled with appointments and therapy sessions. Dad was improving but he still wasn't able to speak or move properly. Frustration was rooted deep in me as I failed to watch him improve as quickly as I wanted. I wanted to see him happy again but all I could see were his saddened eyes. I had to take a break I stepped out from the rehabilitation room, wiping my hot tears.

Then I went to my emails. I hadn't checked them the entire time I was here.

I clicked on the first email, and my heart sank as I read the subject line: "Urgent: Missing Assignments and Attendance Issues." It was an email from Mrs Eaton. This made me relieved knowing it wasn't Mr Moreno who had emailed me instead.

Dear Miss Yara Malik,

Your prolonged absence and failure to submit required assignments have caused a concern. We understand that with everything going on it may be difficult but it is imperative that you address these issues immediately. Your academic standing is at risk.

Kindest Regards,

Mrs Eaton

My previous relief soon faded when I looked at the latest email from the devil himself.

Miss Malik,

I expect an explanation for your countless absences and a comprehensive plan for making up missed work by the end of the week. Failure to meet these expectations will be considered a serious breach of academic responsibility. It seems you never learn Miss Malik.

Sincerely,

Professor Moreno

My hands trembled as I  swiped up off the email. I was contemplating whether or not I should send an email back to him. I let out a frustrated sigh and tried to gather my thoughts. The stress of managing everything was taking its toll. I knew I had to address these issues but I couldn't bear to be away from my father. I didn't want to leave my mum and sister with all those responsibilities. I found myself slowly sliding down the wall, curling up, my face buried in my hands.

"Yara?" I looked up at my mum.

"Yes mama?" I replied. She looked at me with concerned eyes.

"This is eating you up Yara. You need to think positively babygirl" she said brushing a hand through my hair.

"I want to I just can't. He's not making any progress mama" she tilted my head up giving me a look of faith. "He's going to very better Yara, you have my word" she replied, caressing my hair as a weeped in her arms.

🎀🎀🎀

The hospital had become my world, a sterile bubble where time moved differently. Days blurred together in a haze of fluorescent lights, hushed conversations, and the steady beeping of machines. My father's condition had stabilized at first, but the hopeful improvements had plateaued, and now, we were in a harrowing waiting game. The doctors spoke in terms I barely understood, but the bottom line was clear, his improvement was slow and his physical therapy sessions weren't doing him much justice. The weight of this reality pressed down on me like a stone. Every time I looked at my father, his frail body lying in that hospital bed, I felt a mix of helplessness and guilt. Guilt for not being able to do more, for not being able to fix things, for not being there for him.

I hadn't planned on staying away from campus this long, but each day brought a new crisis or complication, something that demanded my presence. I'd been so consumed by the situation at home that I hadn't even bothered to check my emails or respond to messages. I knew I was falling further behind, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Not right now.

One evening, as I sat by my father's bedside, my mum entered the room. She looked worn, the lines on her face deeper than I remembered, but her eyes held a resolve that I hadn't seen in weeks "Yara" she said softly, sitting down beside me "We need to talk" I knew this conversation was coming, but I still wasn't ready for it "Mum I can't just leave him....I can't leave you"

She took my hand in hers, her grip firm but gentle "I know sweetheart but you can't stay here forever. You've missed so much at university already and I don't want you to lose everything you've worked so hard for" I know my dad wouldn't want that either.

"I don't care about university right now" I replied, my voice thick with emotion "I care about Dad, I care about you"

She gave me a sad smile, the kind that mothers give when they know something you don't "And that's why you need to go back. Your dad wouldn't want you to throw your future away for him. He's always been so proud of you, of everything you've achieved. He would want you to continue no matter how hard it is" The tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over "But what if something happens? What if I'm not here?" Mum pulled me into a hug, her voice soothing "If anything happens we'll let you know immediately, but right now there's nothing more you can do here. We need you to be strong Yara for him and for yourself" I stayed in her embrace, letting her words sink in. She was right, of course. Deep down, I knew that staying here wasn't helping anyone, least of all myself. I needed to go back, to face the life I'd put on hold.

The next morning, I made the difficult decision to leave. I packed my bags quietly, trying not to wake Jasmine, who was asleep in the next room. Mum insisted on driving me to the train station, and the ride there was filled with an unbearable silence.

When we arrived, I turned to face her, my heart heavy with the weight of what I was about to do "Mum I'm so sorry. I feel like I'm abandoning you"

She shook her head, her expression firm but loving "You're not abandoning anyone. You're doing what you need to do And we'll be okay I promise" she gave me a look of affirmation. We hugged tightly, and I struggled to hold back more tears "I love you mama. Please take care of him... and yourself"

"I love you too Yara baby. We'll get through this I know we will"

I reluctantly pulled away and boarded the train. As it began to pull out of the station, I caught one last glimpse of my mum standing on the platform, waving at me with a forced smile. The sight nearly broke me, but I forced myself to focus on the journey ahead. The train ride back to university felt surreal. The world outside the window seemed so normal, oblivious to the turmoil inside me. I watched the passing landscapes with a hollow feeling, knowing that when I returned to campus, nothing would be the same. I was no longer the girl who left a few weeks ago. I was carrying a burden now, one that weighed me down with every mile the train covered.

When I finally arrived at the university, everything felt distant and out of place. The bustling campus, the laughter of students, the sight of familiar buildings, none of it felt real. It was as if I was seeing it all through a fog, disconnected from the life I had once led here.

I dragged my suitcase back to my dorm, each step heavier than the last. When I opened the door to my room, the silence hit me like a wave. It was the first time I'd been alone in what felt like forever. The quiet was overwhelming, and I could feel the walls closing in on me.

I sat on my bed, staring at the floor, trying to summon the strength to face what was coming. There was so much to catch up on, so many people to face, and so many questions I didn't have answers to. But as my mum had said, I needed to be strong. For my dad, for my family, and for myself.

Taking a deep breath, I reached for my laptop. I knew I needed to check the emails I'd missed, to see what damage had been done in my absence. As I logged in, the sight of dozens of unread messages filled me with dread, but I forced myself to start reading them one by one

There were emails from Mrs Eaton and other receptionist, well being staff, students, the administration, all asking about my absence, missed deadlines, and incomplete assignments. But the one that stood out the most was from Professor Moreno. His words were as sharp and cold as ever, reminding me of the responsibilities I had neglected

From: Professor Moreno

To: Yara Malik

Subject: Academic Probation Notice

Miss Malik,

Your continued absence from lectures and failure to submit the required coursework have placed you at risk of academic probation. This is your final warning. If you do not resume attendance immediately and submit all overdue assignments by the end of the week, further action will be taken.

You are advised to prioritize your academic obligations immediately

Professor M. Moreno

Fuckkkkkk! A layer of stress swept over me

The email felt like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the life I had let slip through my fingers in the past few weeks. There was no warmth, no understanding in his words, just cold, hard facts. My heart sank as I realized how much ground I had to make up, and how little time I had to do it.

I closed the laptop and leaned back against the wall, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. My father's condition, my studies, the expectations of everyone around me, it was all too much. But I had no choice but to keep going. I couldn't let everything fall apart now. I wouldn't let it. With renewed determination, I got up and started planning out how to tackle the mountain of work ahead of me. I had to catch up on lectures, complete overdue assignments, and somehow make it through the rest of the term without breaking into insanity.

As the hours ticked by, I worked late into the night, forcing myself to focus despite the exhaustion that clung to me like a second skin. There was no room for self pity or despair, this was my fault I should've kept up with my work.

🎀🎀🎀

The following days were a blur of late nights and early mornings. The pressure to catch up was suffocating, but I threw myself into it with a desperation I hadn't felt before. Each overdue assignment was a reminder of how much I'd let slip, but I tackled them one by one, determined not to let this term spiral any further out of control.

I spent hours in the library, buried under stacks of textbooks and notebooks, trying to make sense of the lectures I'd missed. I watched recordings, took pages of notes, and worked through problem sets until my hand ached. There were moments when it all felt overwhelming, when I thought about how much easier it would be to just give up. But every time I started to doubt myself, I thought of my dad. I couldn't let him down, not after everything he'd been through, not after all the sacrifices my family had made.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I submitted the last of my overdue assignments. My inbox had been filled with automated confirmation emails, each one a small victory. I had just clicked "submit" on the final piece of work when I slumped back in my chair, exhaustion washing over me. It was done. I had somehow managed to pull myself out of the hole I'd fallen into. As I sat there, letting the relief sink in, I glanced at my calendar. A few days off from lectures had been a godsend. Mr Moreno was away on some important trip, which gave me the time I needed to get back on track without his cold, watchful eyes on me. I didn't want to imagine what he would've said if he'd been around to see me scrambling to catch up.

But even though he wasn't there, the thought of him still lingered. His last email, that brief reminder of the consequences of falling behind, had been a constant presence in the back of my mind. I knew he'd expect me to be fully prepared when he returned, with no excuses or signs of weakness. And I would be. I had to be.

I spent the rest of my free time going over the lessons I'd missed, making sure I understood every detail. I had to force myself to not get distracted by Heidi, Max or Elijah. I refused to give him any reason to question my commitment, even if he never showed an ounce of sympathy or understanding. By the time Mr Moreno was due to return, I was as ready as I could be. My work was up to date, my notes were thorough, and I had reviewed every lecture at least twice. It was strange, almost unsettling, to realize how much I cared about what he thought.

When I finally closed my laptop and allowed myself to breathe, the exhaustion hit me like a wave. I had been running on adrenaline for days, and now that it was over, I could feel every ache, every strain, every moment of stress catching up to me. I needed rest, but there was still a sense of unease gnawing at the back of my mind.

What would it be like when Mr Moreno returned? Would he acknowledge the work I'd done to catch up, or would he find something else to criticize, another way to remind me of how far I still had to go? The uncertainty lingered and I finally allowed myself to sleep.

A/N

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