Ansh

Ansh was waiting for her, sure that she would turn up. He sat in the darkness, listening to all emanating sounds from the adjoining room very carefully, but it was unusually silent. At the same time he had to be careful not to let his tears dry, just somehow keep the tap open at constant minimum speed till she finally came. It grew darker and silent. Nobody came. The door was slightly ajar; Ansh kept staring at the faint white line of light at that corner of the room, waiting for a sign of movement, but none came. This had never happened before. Maybe everyone thought he had already slept by now. But she didn't even come for kissing good night? Was she this mad? A fresh supply of water flooded his face. Won't she forgive him ever? Why hadn't she come? Ansh was more sorry and more afraid with every passing moment, till his eyes got heavy of the wait and were shut before he knew it.

Noise outside woke Ansh up next morning. His cheeks felt dry and tight. He ran outside, determined to find her and show his anger for being denied love and forgiveness. He did find her, lying right in front of his eyes near the door of the house. They'd tried all night in the hospital to save her from the sever hemorrhage her accident caused, but couldn't. She had forgiven him, but couldn't tell him so. Six year old Ansh broke down out of shock. His mother was no more.


[[Question: If this is an excerpt, is the whole story/character of Ansh worth writing?]]