Bradley Jones, commonly known as Brad is a man of valour and a helping hand for everyone. So much for so less, the kindhearted soul never failed to amaze others with his bravery and selflessness. As it occurred, people often found Brad in the right place at the right time. Once a building in his neighbourhood caught on fire due to some electrical malfunction. Brad was passing nearby and just looking at this horrific sight he immediately rushed towards it. A woman was screaming for help at her lungs as out of three of her children she only managed to take one outside in that moment of wretched destruction. On hearing her anxious screams, Brad could not resist and at once rushed towards the flames, without hesitating for a second aside from several people just standing there in a state of utter numbness. After a short while, Brad emerged from the dense smoke of despair and wretchedness with two children, a boy, and a girl wrapped around his body. Even after being a savior in this ruthless and trivial world, life has not been very merciful to Brad or specifically to people like Brad. This is what Brad believed in particular as molded by the miseries of life. From the very beginning, Brad’s life had been nothing but an inevitable endeavour to survive. Raised by a single mother, Brad was only seven years old when his father passed away in a car accident.
Brad had always watched his mother striving to make ends meet. Shortly after Brad enrolled in high school, she had a massive stroke and was paralyzed below the waist. To put bread on the table Brad started to work in a nearby bakery. Hospital checkups at alternative weeks alongside his mother’s medication were taking quite a toll on him, which is why he had to give up everything and started working in a bakery as a full-time employee.
Jane
“The laymans” have been serving people for years now and everything about our bakery made it special as my mother had put her heart and soul into it. Just a small chit-chat with her was enough to make your day. Aside from her delicious recipes she was known to be a very generous lady full of love and light. Although I was the only child, I never felt alone even for a milli second as she was always there. Through the highs and lows, the yeses, and nos. Sometimes she would even discuss her ideas with me for some new recipes just to make me confident and would hand over her cookbook so that I could thoroughly grasp the underlying mining details in that treasure of secrets.
One day she introduced me to a man. His name was Roger. He greeted me like a true gentleman with pure compassion and respect as I could see clearly in his eyes that he was madly in love with her. Within a few weeks, they married each other binding each other in the name of love. After that, it was an utter yet perfect fairy tale.
However, the harsh reality about time is it changes. As time passed by, moments were replaced by days and days by weeks, time went on flying like a flowing river. One day, while tending to a customer’s needs, I heard an abrupt cracking noise from inside, and on rushing to the kitchen, I found her lying on the ground unconscious. On taking her to the hospital, the doctor told us that she was already gone as it was a sudden heart attack. Just in that profound moment of devastation, my whole world became upside down. I pulled myself together somehow and was determined that the bakery would remain open in her beloved memories.
A few days had passed, and life started to get back in its usual flow although there is now a sorrowful void that will never be filled. One day looking outside the window with my grieving eyes a person walked in with a determined face and showed me the sign “staff required” that I had placed outside the front door. That is how Brad walked into my life.
Brad
The laymanswere kind enough to hire me and that sigh of relief was a priceless abstraction. I had heard about the tragic incident about the owner of the laymans such a generous human being she was. Despite all the lively smiles and environment, I could precisely feel what Jane was going through. At lunch break, she would be very generous to give me some extra tips and sometimes would even sit with me so that she could take a break from the continuous representation of being strong and rigid. I was happy to listen to her whenever she used to talk about her mother even though there was something else that was bothering her to a drastic extent. On a less busy day, while baking or just doing some regular cleaning chores she would say “So Brad, how is life treating you”? and alongside a smiling gaze I would say “Trying to do better on a roller coaster that goes up and down”. She already knew about my mother as in the beginning, I had to take some emergency leaves. It was nice to have someone to talk to as we started to share a good bond. A few days had passed, and it was a nice sunny day, as I went to the counter to take a customer’s order her hands trembled while handing over the tray. I somehow managed to save her from making a fuss on the floor and just as it happened, I had a glimpse of her arms covered in bruises. She stammered and started to roll down her sleeves. I eagerly asked her what happened. She with her feeble voice completely declared it as nothing but some minor burns from the kitchen but it sure looked like something else. I found her explanation completely vague and decided to put this matter under keen observation.
Jane
No matter how desperately I tried to stay strong since my mother passed away each day has been a desperate struggle for survival and the core reason behind this is Roger. I do not know what has gotten into him as I barely recognize him anymore. He has started drinking alcohol regularly and quite intensively. At half past noon, Roger would come out of his room give me a weird stare, take money from the cashier, and then set off on his miserable journey to the bar. One evening when he came back looking at me with those suspicious eyes, he started to call me by my mother’s name and held me firmly. It was a clear indication of something horrible that was about to happen. Completely drained in fear I started to scream for help and I yelled at him “Roger, what are you doing?”. Hearing this it felt like Roger snapped out and as he realized it was me, he started to beat me, yelling all over the place, “you remind me of her, you remind me of her, you should have gone instead, not her”. I managed to save my face from the brutality although he kept on hammering my body with his leather belt. My arms became sore and numb but I still had them wrapped around my body hoping that this profane nightmare would somehow end.
The next day, as I woke up in the morning, I was still having flashbacks of the dreadful event as I saw myself in the mirror. My arms were still sore to the point that I could not feel them. After a short while as Roger came out of his room, he looked at me as if nothing happened and in that state of shock, I started to feel giddy like my soul leaving the body.
Brad
Despite the fact that Jane was not opening up, I could feel the oddness in the air. As concerned as I was, I was quite anxious to discover what she was hiding from me. I had never seen Jane like that, it was like she had seen her demise. Right after the sunset, Roger was dropped off by a taxi at the front door. It was not to my knowledge that he had become an alcoholic as off to this day. Unable to firmly hold his ground he entered the bakery with a bottle of rum in his hands, a complete mess he was. Suddenly, I just saw Jane hiding behind me like she was immensely terrified of his presence. Just as if that was not enough, he started yelling over his lungs followed by throwing chairs all around the place like he was possessed by something. Jane grabbed me by my shoulder as he at once rushed towards me. I was still processing this sight as if trapped in some kind of dark manifestation of a grieving heart. But I immediately realized it was, he, responsible for the bruises on her arms.
I threw myself in front of her and pushed Roger away but a voice came from the back and said, “Don’t hurt him, Brad, he doesn’t know what he is doing”. I became furious and screamed his name, asking him to calm down and for the love of God, he came to his senses somehow and just went to his room. But who knew that this calmness was going to yield horrifying outcomes. I insisted Jane to come with me but she resisted in tears that “I could not abandon him and neither the bakery which is the only thing I have left of my mother”. Frustrated as I was, I left for home although that night was full of disturbing thoughts.
The next morning, I rushed towards the bakery, and finding Jane at the counter safe and sound relieved my senses. After an hour or two I got a call from my mother’s doctor as she was now admitted to the hospital to get the much-needed care from attendees. The doctor asked me to come to the hospital as soon as possible because she was on her last breath. Entangled between multiple convictions I reached the hospital to find out exactly what Jane had felt on hearing the news of losing the light of her life. Torn apart, I went back to the bakery and just laid myself on the chair like a lifeless log. Jane sat beside me and my eyes were enough to enlighten her with everything. I just sat there crying over her shoulder. The next day, trying to look on the brighter side, Roger did not come back and Jane spent the night safe and sound. Jane and I grew quite closer to each other as the suffering served as a bridge bringing us together. Slight admirations transformed into obligated concerns. As one day we were sitting beside each other during the lunch break she just laid her head over my shoulder. Unexpectedly, Roger came out of the front door and became furious, seeing us together like that. He again started to yell but what made it weirder was that he started to blame me as I am some kind of a con or thief who wants to hurt Jane and wants to flee away with their money. He started to scream at her, forbidding her to stay away from me from now on. In more of a threatening tone, he made her panic and she started to tremble with fear. Do you hear me, “stay away from him,” he said and then raised his belt as he was about to strike her with enormous force? I at once came in front of him and took his blow on my back-saving Jane and he kept on swinging his belt.
Running out of breath he started to move towards his room saying stay away from him, he would rob us, destroy us, and Jane in that moment of pure agony and fear was completely helpless. Taking deep breaths Jane and I pulled ourselves together and she applied some ointment on my back which felt like a thousand needles piercing through my shallow skin. Jane asked me to stay for the night and I did, the next day trying to recover from the horrific nightmare we were just striving to act normal and serve the customers like a regular pleasant day. Somehow, the terror fed away and Jane’s breath got back to normal.
Roger
With losing my wife, I lost myself, utterly and willingly. Drenched in grief and agony, I became an alcoholic just for the sake that I would not have to face the incredulous fact that she was gone. Life seemed nothing but disdainful. Everything in this mere pathetic existence is a reminder of this suffering that I have to live through every day. My pain further excruciates as I look at Jane because she is a continuous living reminder of her mother. She was everything that I had. She consoled me at my very lowest and dragged me out of the dark pits of hollowness. She was my other half, the missing piece of my existence as she ought to bring the best out of me, and suddenly in a mere moment, she was not here. I am too weak and shallow to accept this reality, that is why the only thing I do is “run from it”. All I want is a moment of relief from the continuous gut-wrenching pain as every morning I wake up to realize that she is not by my side anymore. Every day and everything remind me of her. Everything to the last-minute details, my whole existence was affiliated with her. People wake up to end their nightmares and I wake up to suffer them.
I do know how much Jane hates me now. The only thing in my eyes is nothing but pain and suffering. The difference is that she is too young to understand the sorrows of this sinful soul. After taking the money from the cashier I would just walk away with my head held down hiding like some dreadful fugitive people are looking for. The bar was just a few blocks away. This bar in particular used to give an old school vibe, with wooden doors as they creaked open and the scent of alcohol ravishing through your nostrils and you are just drawn to it afterward. Followed by that as you enter the bar which is covered in darkness with small rays of light piercing through the holes of dust-torn curtains. You tend to disconnect from the outside world for a while.
As soon as I manage to come back to the bakery the nightmare starts again but the alcohol brings the worst out of me as I tend to avert my grief on Jane. Now I can’t even die in peace because I fear how I would face her mother. In addition to that, I get consumed by my panic and anxiety attacks as I hear voices screaming in my head that I will end up alone, Jane will also leave me and I will die alone, bringing an end to my miserable self. That is somehow true as Jane is the only one who still tends to me, she is the one technically providing me food and shelter. That is why I cannot afford to allow Brad to get near her because for sure they will ask me to leave and where would I go, all that is left behind is “grief, fear, and sorrow”. Although suffering is very personal. But sometimes, I even want my pain to be inflicted upon others as a voice comes from the inside like a stomach grumble saying, “Why me”. One day luckily, I saw a poster of NASA outside the bar asking for volunteers to travel to Mars to conclude the notion of whether life exists there or not. They also offered a reward of 50000 $ to the individual who will be willing to take on the mission. As it occurred to me, I took the poster to the bakery and presented it to Brad. I asked him if he proved that he was there for Jane and could take care of her then they could be together and I would be long gone from their lives. Even a drunk like me knew that it was a suicide mission, and that is why I was willing to take this gamble.
To be continue
Hassan Toor
Hassan Toor is a proficient graduate, who holds insight in Marketing, Programming and Fiction. He has worked as an Assistant Manager for an e-business organization and is currently completing his Master’s in Business Studies from Lahore. In Addition, a Pioneer who rejoices in Character Nourishment, raptures Productivity and contemplates Journaling. In excess of that, he also shares some interests with Soccer and Music.
It’s an emotional story about suffering and pain after losing loved ones. The characters show how they cope with grief and try to find strength in tough times.
“People wake up to end their nightmares and I wake up to suffer them.” This line is so painful. For some people, waking up doesn’t bring relief. Instead, it means facing real-life suffering and ongoing pain, which is worse than any nightmare—a nightmare that continues even when they are awake.
The story is amazing, though. Hopefully, part 2 will be just as good as the first one.