"Umi [Mum] I was so worried," I said while hugging her.

"I am going to be okay abnataya [My daughter]. Why do you worry, it's not good for you. How is Imad?" She spoke in a calming tone.

"He is okay alhamdulilah [Thank God]. His uncle is warming up to him." To be honest, I wasn't where my body was. I was in the mansion, not with Imad, but with Mr Ahmed. His words and actions just disgust me. How can one be so rude. And it scares me that my speech was harsh...

"Layla, Layla..." My mother's voice brought me back to reality.

"Na'am [yes]," I replied.

"Who are you thinking of?" She asked, curiously.

"No one," I jumped to my reply.

"Did I ever tell you the story of how I met your father?" My mother asked. I shock my head and said no. "Your father's father was a rich man, rich at heart at most. Your two grandfathers were the best of friends, although they never really understood each others speech. As they came from two different countries, their friendship was somehow their language. There was a war at that time and my father thought best I marry your father, Mu'adh. I had no siblings nor a mother to turn to and talk about my fears, the friend I had known, had died from a bombing. I trusted in God, that's all I had, and that was enough for me to hope. My father's eyes were filled with tears, both of joy and sadness — the day I left. I agreed to the marriage and we fled away from our countries and came here. This foreign place. Your father was as stubborn as you are abnataya [My daughter], brave and kindhearted and I learnt from him to believe in a better tomorrow."

"Umi [Mum] why are you telling me this story now?"

"Because tomorrow I will no longer be here to lessen your worries, my days are counted. Layla you have to be brave and take risks, don't let time fool you. My greatest regret is allowing you to give up on your dreams. You have lived for others, I only wish to see you live for yourself."

"Umi what are you saying? You are going to get better. Please don't speak like this..." I held her hand tightly. The doctor came in, Doctor Walid (Hudaa's husband). He greeted us and gave us a review.

"I checked your CT scans, it's definitely a hemorrhagic stroke. There is bleeding in the brain," he spoke in a low tone.

"Is my mother going to be okay? Is there a medicine?" I asked worriedly.

"Yes there is Layla, we can begin the treatment as soon as possible. The medicines will stop reduce the pressure in the brain, prevent seizures and sudden constriction of blood vessels," Walid explained. My heart was beating fast, not sure what to feel.

"Okay start with the treatment as soon as possible," I said.

"Layla I think we should speak in private," he told me. I kissed my mother on the forehead and walked out of the room with him.

"The medicines are pricy and also risky at your mother's age," he explained. All I heard was, your mother is going to die.

"What do you mean? So your telling me she's going to die either way. Whether we try to save her or not?"

"All I am saying is that the medication may not work very effectively, and may cause other traumas. We can try in hopes of saving her."

"You can find another way. You are a doctor, help her."

"The medication is the only way. I just need your approval on it," he said.

"Your asking me to take a risk, what if my mother dies? I will have to live with the burden not you..." Walid interjected and spoke.

"What if you don't try anything and she still dies. It's better to live with thought that you tried something, than the guilt of doing nothing."

"I'll need time to think about it," I told him.

"You might have time, but your mother doesn't. Please make the decision as soon as possible," he said and walked away. I went back into the room and my mother was fast asleep. Her breathing barely audible, that I had to place my head on her chest and listen to her heartbeats. I just needed to be sure. After losing my father, I made sure I'd always take care of my mother. No matter what. The price I had to pay, was my dreams. Which didn't matter at the time, all I did care about was my mother. She's the only home I have ever known, my first best friend.

I didn't mind putting my dreams on hold, they are just dreams. Right? I wanted to be an architecture. Designing buildings. My father used to encourage me so much, he would always give me tips about drawing a building. He was no artist, but he spoke like one. As for my mother she made sure my sleepless nights were not so bad. She was my number one fan. We were happy, at least I was, with everything I did have. After my final exams, I never went back for the graduation ceremony. My father was diagnosed with cancer, and it was the worst time in my life.

I stopped drawing, I stopped dreaming and got a job. Never thought I would love it, but I learned to. Taking care of Imad made forget of my reality for a little while. It's just my mother and I, we need each other. I need her.