WHISPERS OF LINGORM : A One-Shot Anthology - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

“Mom, Dad! I’m so excited to meet Grandma again” Orm said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. At 22 years old, she was no longer a child, but her excitement mirrored the carefree joy of her younger self.
It was summer vacation, and Orm had just finished a demanding semester at university. Her parents, who usually immersed themselves in work, had decided to take a break as well. They planned a trip to Chiang Mai, where Orm’s grandmother lived in their family’s ancestral home. It had been years since they last visited—their lives in Bangkok had kept them too busy. This trip felt long overdue, and Orm couldn’t contain her excitement.
“We’ve arrived, sir” the driver announced as he pulled the car into the large courtyard of the house.
Before anyone could respond, Orm flung the door open and ran inside.
“Grandma! I’m here! Where are you?” she called out, her voice echoing through the spacious halls.
The household staff smiled warmly at the sight of her energetic entrance. Moments later, her grandmother emerged, her face lighting up at the sight of her granddaughter. Orm rushed to her, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug.
“Grandma, I missed you so much!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled against her grandmother’s shoulder.
Her grandmother smiled, patting Orm’s back lovingly. “I missed you too, my dear”
As they shared a tender moment, Orm’s parents entered the house, greeting her grandmother with respect and warmth. The driver followed with their luggage, placing it neatly in the hallway. After exchanging pleasantries, the family moved inside to settle in and catch up.
Later in the afternoon, after spending some quality time with her family, Orm excused herself to explore the house. The ancestral home held many memories, though some had faded with time. Her steps carried her upstairs to the first-floor room where she had always stayed as a child.
Pushing the door open, she was struck by a wave of nostalgia. Everything was just as she remembered—the neatly made bed, the wooden desk by the window, and the faint scent of old books lingering in the air. It had been seven years since she last visited, and at 15, her memories had been vivid. Now, at 22, much of it felt distant, like trying to recall a dream.
Orm walked over to the bed, sitting down for a moment before rising to explore. She opened drawers, sifted through old belongings, and found remnants of her childhood—a box of crayons, a stack of drawing books, and a collection of small toys she had long forgotten.
But her hands paused when she picked up a small, worn keychain in the shape of a Labubu doll. Its edges were frayed, and its colors had faded slightly, but it carried an inexplicable charm. Orm frowned, unable to remember if it had been hers or belonged to someone else. Still, something about it felt familiar, like a fragment of a memory she couldn’t quite grasp.
Smiling faintly, she decided to keep it. Slipping the keychain into her pocket, she lay back on the bed. The soft mattress and the gentle hum of the afternoon breeze lulled her into a peaceful sleep
After a much-needed nap, Orm woke up feeling slightly disoriented. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table—it was already 5:30 p.m. Stretching her arms, she got out of bed and decided to head downstairs.
In the living room, her grandmother and mother were seated comfortably, chatting softly while enjoying the evening tea. The warm aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Orm noticed her father wasn’t around and remembered he’d gone to visit some old friends.
As she approached the two women, her grandmother looked up, her face lighting up with affection. “Ah, there you are, sweetheart. Had a good rest? Feeling fresh now?” her grandmother said lovingly, pouring her a cup of tea.
Orm smiled, a soft nod confirming her grandmother’s guess. “I feel much better now, Grandma.” She settled next to them, enjoying the familial warmth of the moment.
Before their conversation could continue, Ying, Orm’s cousin, walked in with her usual energy.
Ying had lived in Chiang Mai all her life and was practically a sister to Orm. As soon as their eyes met, both girls lit up with joy.
“Orm!” Ying exclaimed, rushing forward to envelop her cousin in a tight hug. Orm returned the gesture, laughing as memories of their childhood together came flooding back. They had been close since they were kids, sharing everything—Food to secrets all of it, and occasional phone calls when life allowed it.
“You’ve grown so much!” Ying teased, pulling back to look at her cousin. “And don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about me living here like a lonely soul while you’re out conquering the big city?”
Orm laughed. “How could I forget? I missed you so much, Ying. It’s been years since we hung out properly”
After greeting Orm’s mom and grandmother warmly, Ying turned back to her cousin with an eager expression. “Okay, enough talking. Let’s go out. It’s been so long since we’ve roamed the city together! Come on, Orm, we’ll have fun like we used to”
Orm glanced at her grandmother for approval, who smiled knowingly. “Go ahead, have fun. Just be back in time for dinner,” she said.
Ying grabbed Orm’s hand with a grin. “Let’s go! I know just the places to show you”
With excited chatter, the two cousins stepped out into the evening, leaving the warmth of the house behind as they prepared to make new memories together in the familiar streets of Chiang Mai.
After exploring their old hangout spots, indulging in street food, and sharing endless laughter, Ying and Orm found themselves sitting on a bench in a serene park. The gentle evening breeze ruffled their hair as they reminisced about their childhood.
It was 7 p.m. and they still had time before heading home for dinner.
As they sat chatting, Ying suddenly slapped her forehead. “Oh no! I completely forgot! I was supposed to drop off a book to my friend today—it’s really important,” she said with a tone of urgency.
Orm raised an eyebrow. “A book? You forgot something that is important? You’re hopeless,” she teased, chuckling softly.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! I got carried away with all the fun,” Ying retorted, grinning. “But seriously, let’s go. We can swing by her place, drop off the book, and head home after.”
And orm nodded in agreement. They got up and made their way to Ying’s house, retrieved the book, and arrived at her friend’s home—a modest shop-house combination with a welcoming, homely vibe. Inside, Ying’s friend’s mother greeted them warmly.
“Ah, Ying dear, you’re here. Ling is upstairs in her room,” the woman said with a smile.
Her gaze shifted to Orm, and Ying quickly introduced her cousin. After exchanging pleasantries, the two girls climbed the stairs to Ling’s room.
Standing outside the door, Ying knocked twice. “Ling? It’s me!” she called, but there was no response. She knocked again, louder this time.
Inside, Ling stirred from her slumber, jolted awake by the persistent sound.
Ling blinked rapidly, her eyes scanning the room. Something felt... off. She clutched her head as fragmented memories flooded her mind—visions of a distant world, a future not yet written but painfully vivid. The number "11....10..2035..." echoed in her thoughts, a stark contrast to the reality around her. She was like caught between lives. The overwhelming duality left her breathless.
The knocking continued, pulling Ling back to the present. Disoriented, she stumbled toward the door and opened it. Her gaze landed on the girl standing beside Ying, and her breath hitched.
The name escaped her lips in a whisper, heavy with recognition and disbelief.
“Orm…”
In a quiet hospital room, Ling’s comatose body stirred faintly. Her chest rose sharply, taking a deep, shuddering breath, startling the monitoring equipment. The nurse on duty hurried over, her brows furrowing as she scribbled down notes.
The way Ling uttered her name sent shivers down Orm’s spine. There was something unexplainable, something deeper behind it—a connection that transcended time and space. Orm frowned slightly, her brows furrowing in confusion.
“Umm....Yes...Do I know you?” she asked hesitantly.
Ling’s heart raced. Did she know Orm? Or was it the Orm from... somewhere else? The lines between her memories and the present blurred, leaving her questioning what was real and what wasn’t.
“Uh... yeah,” Ying interjected, breaking the tension. “Ling, this is my cousin, Orm. She’s visiting us for the summer. Remember I told you about her?”
Ling blinked, forcing a smile as she wrestled with the chaos in her mind. “Cousin? Vacation?.......Ahh, yeah of course I remember” she lied, stepping aside to let them in. But deep down, she knew—this Orm was different. She was the missing piece to the puzzle of her fractured memories.
As Orm entered the room, she felt an unexplainable sense of familiarity, as if she had stepped into a place she’d been before, in a dream or another life. Ling watched her carefully, unable to shake the eerie feeling that this meeting was the beginning of something far greater than either of them could comprehend.
Ling wandered back to her mother after Ying and Orm left, her mind clouded with an inescapable swirl of memories and confusion. She needed answers, but none seemed to come. Her steps faltered as she approached her mother, sitting peacefully in the living room, just as she had so many times in the past—except this version of her mother looked younger, as if time had folded back on itself.
“Mom…” Ling’s voice broke as she stood frozen, her gaze locked on her mother’s face. Every detail was the same as it had been in 2035—her soft eyes, her comforting presence—but the years had peeled away. Her mother turned, a warm smile lighting up her face.
“Yes, Ling?” she replied gently, sensing the hesitation in her daughter’s voice. But before she could say more, Ling closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms tightly around her. Her tears spilled, unbidden, soaking into her mother’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong, my love?” her mother asked, her voice brimming with concern as she gently stroked Ling’s back. “You’re trembling. Did something happen?”
Ling couldn’t respond. Words felt inadequate to explain the tempest of emotions roaring within her but she tried "which year is this mom?" She asked still hugging her mother and her mother replied "it's 1980 dear what happened why are you crying?"
The memories of a world far removed from this one were as vivid as the embrace she now found solace in. Her heart ached, torn between disbelief and the undeniable truth she knew.
After a few minutes, Ling drew back, her face streaked with tears but her expression calmer. “Nothing, Mom” she said softly, though the lie was evident in her tone. “I just… I missed you"
Her mother tilted her head slightly, a mix of confusion and affection in her gaze. “I’m always here, Ling. You know that,” she said, pulling her daughter close once more before letting her go.
Ling sat with her mother for a while longer, finding temporary peace in the familiar warmth of her presence. Slowly, her breathing steadied, and she felt the chaos within her subside, at least for the moment. But when she returned to her room, the questions began to resurface.
As she sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers brushed against something cold and metallic on the floor. She bent down and picked up a thin, delicate necklace. The air seemed to leave her lungs as she recognized it immediately—the same necklace she had chosen for Orm before the accident, before everything had been torn apart.
Her hands trembled as she held it up to the light, the intricate design glinting faintly. Memories flooded back—the joy of selecting it, imagining it resting against Orm’s neck on their wedding day, and the devastation that followed when she never had the chance to give it to her.
“This can’t be a coincidence,” Ling whispered to herself, her voice thick with emotion. “This… this is real. Everything I remember—it’s not just a dream”
The weight of the truth settled heavily on her shoulders. She wasn’t merely reliving the past; she was trapped in a fractured reality, a different world where her Orm didn’t recognize her, where their love seemed like it had never existed.
Later that night, as Ling lay in bed, sleep eluding her, her thoughts raced. The necklace sat on the table beside her, a reminder of the life she had lost and the one she was now navigating.
"If I remember everything, why doesn’t Orm?" she wondered, her heart aching at the thought. Is it because we’re in a different world? A different time? Or has fate given us a second chance—a chance to start over?
Her resolve hardened. Whether this was destiny’s way of rewriting their story or a cruel trick, she couldn’t let it slip away. Before sleep finally claimed her, she made a silent vow.
"I will talk to her. I will make her remember, even if it’s the last thing I do. And if she doesn’t… then I’ll find a way to make this life count."
The next morning, Ling stood outside Ying’s house, nervously calling out her name. Ying soon appeared, her face laced with curiosity.
“Ling? What’s going on? Why are you here so early?” Ying asked, tucking her hair behind her ear as she studied Ling’s expression.
Ling hesitated, forcing herself to sound casual.
“Nothing much, I just… I need Orm’s address. She left something at my place yesterday, and I need to return it.”
Ying’s brow furrowed. “Orm’s address? Give it to me, I'll deliver it. Better yet, let me come with you”
“No!” Ling blurted out, quickly softening her tone. “I mean, it’s fine. It’s just a small thing, Ying. You don’t need to bother yourself. I’ll take care of it. Thanks, though.”
Suspicion flickered in Ying’s eyes, but she reluctantly handed over the address. “Alright… but this is strange. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
Ling nodded with a forced smile. “Yeah, absolutely. Thanks again.” Before Ying could ask more questions, Ling hurried off, leaving Ying puzzled.
Ling arrived at Orm’s grand estate, standing outside the gate for a moment as uncertainty gnawed at her. Gathering her courage, she stepped inside. The main gate was open, and she quietly walked through.
A servant soon appeared, her curious gaze settling on Ling. Just as Ling was about to ask for Orm, two elegant women—Orm’s grandmother and mother—stepped outside. Their warm eyes landed on Ling.
“Hello, dear. Who might you be?” Orm’s grandmother asked kindly.
Ling bowed respectfully, her tone polite but shaky. “Good morning. I’m Ling. Ying and orm's friend, Orm accidentally left something at my place yesterday, so I came to return it.”
The two women exchanged smiles, their warmth putting Ling slightly at ease. “How thoughtful of you. Please, come in!” Orm’s mother said, gesturing for the servant to assist.
“Orm is upstairs in her room. Let me have something prepared for you to eat while you’re here.” she said
Afterwards, Ling followed the servant up the stairs, her heartbeat quickening with every step. When they reached the Orm’s room,
“Miss Orm’s room,” the servant announced, gently knocking on the door before stepping back. “I’ll bring something for you both to eat.” With a polite nod, she left.
Ling hesitated for a moment before raising her hand to knock.
From inside, a muffled voice called out, "Coming!"
The door creaked open, revealing Orm. Her expression shifted to one of mild surprise as she registered Ling standing before her. "Ling?" she asked, her tone curious yet calm. "You’re here? Is everything okay?"
Ling’s gaze locked onto hers, a fire burning in her eyes. Before Orm could say more, Ling stepped forward, grasping her arms firmly. In a swift motion, she pushed Orm back into the room gently, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her with a decisive click.
Startled, Orm stammered, "Ling, what’s going on? What are you doing?"
Ling’s voice trembled, her words spilling out with raw desperation. "Do you really not remember anything, Orm? Us? Our love… our wedding… my accident… nothing?"
Orm’s brows furrowed, confusion etched across her face. She searched Ling’s expression, trying to make sense of the torrent of emotions unfolding before her.
Ling’s voice cracked as she continued, her hands gripping Orm tighter. "You’re Orm—the only heiress to one of the biggest business empires. And I… I was just a middle-class girl. We fought against everyone for our love. We proved them wrong, Orm. We were going to get married." Her voice broke, tears threatening to spill. "Please tell me you remember. You love me. You’re mine—only mine. I love you more than my own life. Please, Orm… please…"
A single tear rolled down Ling’s cheek, glinting under the soft light.
Orm stood frozen, her mind reeling. Love? Marriage? She knew nothing of what Ling spoke of, nothing about this supposed shared history. But the sight of Ling—so vulnerable, so broken—stirred something deep within her. It wasn’t recognition, but it was something.
Her voice softened as she placed a comforting hand on Ling’s shoulder. "Ling, calm down… please. Let’s sit down first. We’ll talk, but you need to relax. Have some water first"
She gently guided Ling to the bed and sat beside her, handing her a glass of water from the bedside table. Ling accepted it with trembling hands, her tearful gaze never leaving Orm’s face.
After a few moments of silence, Orm spoke again, her tone measured but kind. "Ling, I won’t call you a liar, and I won’t dismiss what you’re feeling. But the truth is… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember any of this—love, a wedding, or anything else. I only met you yesterday. Before that, we’d never even spoken. So… I’m sorry, but I can’t understand what you’re saying." She paused, then added softly, "But it’s okay. I’m here now. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone, Ling. Don’t worry."
Ling stared into Orm’s eyes, searching desperately for even a flicker of recognition. But all she saw was confusion—concern, but no trace of the connection she longed for.
Another tear slipped down her cheek, falling silently.
Orm shifted closer, her voice filled with genuine care. "Ling, please… whatever it is, we’ll face it together. I—"
Before she could finish, Ling suddenly stood, her movements sharp and purposeful. Without a word, she turned toward the door.
"Wait!" Orm called after her, her voice laced with urgency.
But Ling didn’t stop. She walked out, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving Orm alone in the quiet room.
The next day, Orm stood outside Ling’s house, her resolve firm as she knocked on the door. Ling’s mother opened the door and greeted her warmly, recognizing her as Ying’s cousin and Ling’s new acquaintance.
“Good morning, dear. Here to see Ling?”
“Yes, Auntie,” Orm replied with a polite bow. “May I go up to her room?”
“Of course, go ahead. She’s upstairs,”
Ling’s mother said, smiling warmly.
Orm ascended the stairs, pausing briefly before knocking on Ling’s door. There was no response. She knocked again, louder this time, but still, no answer.
Hesitant, she reached for the door handle and found it unlocked. Slowly pushing it open, she stepped inside, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Ling?"
The room was quiet, illuminated by the warm hues of the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. Orm’s eyes scanned the space until they landed on Ling, sitting motionless on the balcony floor. She clutched a delicate necklace in her hands, her gaze distant, lost in a world of her own.
Concerned, Orm walked closer, her footsteps soft against the wooden floor. "Ling?" she called again, her voice laced with worry.
Ling jolted slightly at the sound, her trance broken. She turned to face Orm, surprise flashing across her face as she stood abruptly. "O-Orm," she stammered, her voice shaky.
Orm’s concern deepened as she stepped closer. "Ling, I’m really sorry about yesterday. You left so suddenly, and I didn’t know what to do. Are you okay?"
Ling shook her head quickly, her voice laced with guilt. "No, Orm. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I left without saying anything. I just… I couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry if I worried you"
Orm gave her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s okay, Ling. Don’t worry about it. Can we sit and talk?"
Ling nodded silently, and the two of them moved inside, settling onto the edge of Ling’s bed. For a moment, they just sat there, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, Orm broke the silence.
"Ling," she began, her voice gentle but firm. "I know you’re upset, and I know that whatever you told me yesterday is important to you. But… I still don’t understand. I don’t remember anything about what you said—your accident, our love, or anything else. I’ve lived in Bangkok my whole life with my family. Sure, I visited this town when I was younger, but I don’t recall ever meeting you back then. Maybe I forgot, but… I just don’t know"
Ling listened quietly, her eyes fixed on Orm, her patience unwavering.
Orm hesitated, looking down for a moment before meeting Ling’s gaze.
Her next words came softer, almost hesitant, but honestly.
"But… there’s something I need to say. From the moment I met you, Ling, I’ve felt something—a connection that I can’t explain. When you called my name that day… there was so much longing in your voice that it hit me deep. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. You were all I could see, all I could think about."
She paused, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she confessed,
"I don’t know what this is, but if I’ve learned anything from the books I’ve read, it feels like… it feels like falling for someone at first sight. Like you’re meant to be with them. And Ling… I think I like you" Her voice grew steadier. "I don’t understand everything you’ve told me, but I believe you. And even though I don’t remember anything about our past, if you’re willing, we can start over. We can create something new, together."
Ling stared at Orm, her heart aching and soaring all at once. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over as her emotions overflowed.
"Orm…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
Orm leaned closer, her worry evident. "Ling, please don’t cry—"
Before she could finish, Ling closed the distance between them, pressing her lips gently against Orm’s in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, filled with all the emotions she couldn’t put into words.
For a moment, Orm froze, startled by the sudden act. But as Ling’s warmth enveloped her, she felt herself melting into the kiss, her heart racing as she hesitantly kissed her back. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in this shared moment of vulnerability and connection.
Doctors rushed to stabilize Ling’s body, adjusting her oxygen levels as they noticed the erratic blips of her pulse monitor. They would later note how the readings fluctuated with her emotional distress, despite the coma. A brief, impossible connection between her fractured consciousness.
When they finally pulled apart, Ling rested her forehead against Orm’s, her hands gently cupping Orm’s face. Her tears shimmered, but her smile was soft, filled with hope.
"Forget everything I said before," Ling murmured, her voice steady despite the emotion behind it. "We’ll start fresh. Together. A new beginning."
6 Months Later....
The year was 1981, a January colder than usual in Chiang Mai. The frost-kissed air carried the scent of burning firewood from nearby homes, yet nothing could warm the void Ling felt inside. Today was her 24th birthday, but celebration seemed like a mere formality. She sat on the wooden dining table of her modest home, staring at the flickering candle placed beside the bowl of kanom jeen her mother had prepared.
Her mother, bustling in the kitchen, occasionally glanced at Ling with concern. “Why don’t you eat, dear? You’ve barely touched your food.”
Ling sighed, pulling the scarf tighter around her shoulders. “I’m not hungry, Mom”
Her thoughts were consumed by Orm, her girlfriend, her life, who was miles away in Bangkok. They hadn’t met in over a month, the distance between them stretching like an unbearable chasm. Orm had promised to call tonight, but the longing to hold her, to see her delicate smile, gnawed at Ling’s soul.
Orm, meanwhile, was huddled in the backseat of her father’s battered sedan, her heart hammering against her chest. Her parents had reluctantly agreed to let her visit Chiang Mai for a "family errand," but Orm’s real purpose was far more significant. She clutched a small, carefully wrapped box in her lap, her fingers trembling with both excitement and anxiety.
The hours spent convincing her parents had been worth it. She couldn’t let Ling’s birthday pass without seeing her. The thought of Ling’s sharp, confident eyes softening at the sight of her filled Orm with both hope and fear. Would Ling be angry at her sudden arrival in this weather, or would her strong arms pull Orm close in relief?
The car screeched to a halt near Tha Phae Gate. Orm stepped out, shivering as the icy wind bit at her exposed skin. She tightened her grip on the bouquet of jasmine she had brought, bracing herself for the walk to Ling’s home.
The creak of the wooden gate startled Ling, who had been lost in thought. She rushed to the front door, her heart pounding.
“Ling, who has come?” her mother called from the kitchen.
Ling opened the door, her breath catching as she saw Orm standing there, flushed from the cold, her small figure bundled in a thick coat.
“Happy birthday my love!” Orm said softly, her voice trembling as she held out the jasmine and the gift.
“Orm…” Ling’s voice broke as she stepped forward, pulling Orm into her arms. The flowers fell between them, forgotten, as Ling buried her face in Orm’s neck.
“You’re here,” Ling whispered, her voice heavy with unshed tears. “You really came.”
“I couldn’t stay away,” Orm replied, wrapping her arms around Ling’s waist. “Not today.”
Hours later, they found themselves walking hand in hand through the quiet streets near Tha Phae Gate. The city was asleep, the cold driving everyone indoors. Orm clung to Ling’s arm, her smaller frame tucked against Ling’s side for warmth.
“Why did you travel so far in this insane weather?” Ling said, her tone softer than usual.
“I couldn’t bear the thought of you spending your birthday without me and missing me” Orm admitted, her voice barely audible. “You mean too much to me.”
Ling stopped walking, her sharp gaze softening as she cupped Orm’s cheek. “You’re too good for me,” she murmured. “I don’t deserve you”
“Don’t say that,” Orm whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re everything to me, Ling.”
As they reached a quiet crossroad, Orm tugged on Ling’s hand. “Wait. I have something for you.”
From her pocket, Orm pulled out the gift—a small silver locket engraved with their initials.
Ling took the locket, her fingers brushing over the smooth metal. “Orm…” Her voice faltered as emotion swelled in her chest.
“Do you like it?” Orm asked hesitantly.
“I love it,” Ling said, her voice firm but trembling. She slipped the locket over her neck, pulling Orm close. “But not as much as I love you.”
Orm smiled shyly, leaning her head against Ling’s shoulder.
But,
The moment was shattered by the sudden roar of a car engine. Both turned to see an old sedan speeding toward them, its driver swerving recklessly. The dim light of a flickering street light illuminated the horror in Ling’s eyes as she realized the car was heading straight towards them.
“Orm, move!” Ling shouted, her voice raw with panic.
But Orm froze, her body rooted to the spot in fear. Without hesitation, Ling pushed Orm out of the car’s path, the force sending her sprawling to the side of the road.
The impact came a second later. The sound of metal colliding with flesh was sickening. Ling was thrown to the ground, her body limp as the car sped off into the night.
Orm scrambled to her feet, her knees scraping against the rough pavement as she crawled to Ling’s side.
“Ling! N...N..No, no, noooo!” she cried, her voice cracking as she saw the blood pooling beneath Ling’s head.
Ling’s eyes fluttered open, her breaths shallow and labored.
“Orm,” she whispered, her voice so faint it was almost drowned by the wind.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Orm sobbed, cradling Ling’s face. “Please stay, you’ll be okay! We’ll get help!”
Ling’s lips twitched into a weak smile. “You’re safe. That’s all… that matters.”
“No! Don’t do this! You can’t leave me! Ling! Are you listening! You'll be okay Ling please!” Orm’s tears fell freely, mixing with the blood staining her hands as she was yelling for help "Somebody please help!"
Ling’s hand reached up, trembling as she wiped a tear from Orm’s cheek. Orm looked at her, crying freely, "Ling!"
Orm sat frozen, her eyes locked on Ling’s still form in the hospital bed. The sterile room hummed with the low sounds of machines, but something in the air felt wrong. Ling’s breathing was shallow—too shallow. The rhythm was off, erratic. Orm’s chest tightened as she leaned forward, unable to look away, heart in her throat.
A sharp, sudden shift in Ling’s condition caught Orm off guarded—her oxygen levels plummeted, and her heart rate spiked dangerously. The monitor’s beeping quickened into an erratic pulse, a sound that echoed in Orm’s ears like a death knell. She grabbed Ling’s hand, desperately trying to feel the warmth of her touch, but it was cold, too cold.
“Doctor! Help! Something’s wrong!” Orm’s voice trembled, but her words were lost in the chaos that erupted around her.
The door burst open. Doctors rushed in, pushing past Orm. They began frantically adjusting machines, administering medication. One doctor was on the phone, calling for immediate assistance as the room filled with tension and urgency.
Orm stood back, her legs weak, watching the scene unfold in front of her. She could hardly breathe. "What was happening?"
Then—an unexpected moment of stillness. The doctors froze. One of them, pale and wide-eyed, glanced at the monitor in disbelief.
“Her vitals are crashing... This doesn’t make sense... We can’t stabilize her...”
Orm’s heart slammed against her ribs. She felt the room closing in around her, suffocating her. Her mind screamed for a miracle, but her body refused to move.
“Doctor... What’s going on?” Orm whispered, her voice hoarse, barely audible.
The doctor looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion and fear. “We don’t know yet... But this isn’t like anything we’ve seen. She’s slipping away... and we can’t figure out why.”
Suddenly, one of the monitors flickered. The readings went from alarming to critical, and the doctor’s voice wavered as he glanced at the screen. “Get the team in here now... She’s not responding to any of our interventions" he said to his assistant doctor.
Orm could only stand there, helpless, as the situation spiraled further out of control.
“I love you Orm, please take care of mom, we'll meet again, I love you” ling whispered, her voice breaking. Her hand fell limp, her chest rising one last time before it stilled.
Orm’s scream tore through the silent night, raw and filled with an anguish that seemed to split the air in two. She shook Ling’s lifeless body, begging her to wake up, to open her eyes and tell her everything would be fine. But Ling was gone.
The silver locket lay against Ling’s bloodied chest, a cruel reminder of the love they had shared and the life now lost.