The soft and gentle illumination lit the broad, white hallway of the hospital, creating a hospitable and warm ambience. It was 9 in the night, and the visitors of patients have proceeded to pack, as the visiting time has been approaching to an end. Amongst the heavy traffic of medical personnel pushing trolleys and nurses transporting patients on wheelchairs, here I sat at the far corner, with my wrists held together and my fingers crossed.

"OPERATION IN PROGRESS", read the red sign to the right of above of my head. I waited anxiously as the time passed by slowly, second by second. Feet tapping and dilating eyes were the only signs that I was in despair, but no one was ever curious enough to come close and question. What could I do? Absolutely nothing. Another look at the blood red stains on my jeans only hit me with another wave of guilt.