Fragile; Breaking Down Inside

For my memory of you

Chapter One: Emergency

These four walls surrounding me are stained with my Mother's shadow reflecting from the moonlight shining brightly outside. I've tried, countless times, but I can't bring myself to look at her lying there in agony, hanging onto dear life when all she can really do now is slowly let go. She's fought her fight. I know she has. She's also tried her best, but now she's falling. She knows it's the end. She knows she's got to give up. The painful part is that I know it too.

From the corner where I sit, the shadows show me the machines they've got her chained to. The ones that measure her heartbeat, give her fluids; literally living and breathing for her. She's on life support because her body is gradually shutting down, and I have the painful pleasure of watching it all unfold.

Seeing my Mother in the state that she is, it breaks my heart and brings flowing tears to my eyes. Why? Because a daughter should never have to see her Mother suffer before her death whilst her Father is working away his sorrows, helping other families while his own is locked in the darkness, trapped. He shouldn't be saving other lives when his wife is on her deathbed, and her last wish was to have him say those words one last time, "I love you..."

I look up at the clock hanging high on one wall. It's 2am. I've been sitting in this very corner of the room for five hours, six minutes and thirty seconds, but then again, who's counting? It's now two hours into New Year's Eve, but I've barely noticed the difference. Usually, I'd be excited, happy; somewhere close to that, but tonight, I know I'll never ever appreciate New Year's Eve ever again. It'll never be the same.

I can hear footsteps coming towards our isolated room. I listen carefully to their voices, hoping that my Father's might be amongst the small crowd, but time and time again, it fails to show. There's a gentle turning of the knob on the door, and in walks two nurses - one male, the other female - bringing with them needles and even more fluids.

                "Sorry Alex," The male nurse whispers to me, "But can I ask you to wait outside please?"

Without any hesitation, I get up and walk out before he has any time to complete what he has to say.

                "The doctor will be in shortly," I hear the remainder of his words fading away in the background, but I have no care in what he has to say. I just need to get out of this claustrophobic room. I just need air.

It's a cold and windy night tonight. The trees are swaying violently from side to side; breezing back and forth. There I find myself standing in the middle of a little tornado; circulating itself around me. If only it was strong enough to carry me away from this misery, give me something else to worry about for a little while. If only it could give to me, a laughter worth sharing on New Year's Eve.

I can't begin to tell you of the thousand thoughts running laps in my mind. I can't tell you how I really feel about all this. I can't tell you anything, except that I'm scared. I'm really, really scared. How am I going to live without Mum? How am I going to get through all this when my Father can't even look at me anymore? Tell me, how am I supposed to be strong and live through this without having to cry, without showing the world that I am as fragile as I can ever be? What am I supposed to do to make all this hurt go away? How do I get out of this all okay? How do I let go of my Mother, the woman who's always been by my side no matter how many times I've turned to the wrong? Who's going to be there when I need someone the most? Just tell me, what am I without her?

I haven't been out long, but on my shoulder, I feel the warmth of another's hand. I turn around, hoping to heaven above that it'd be my Father's, but to my great disappointment, it is only the nurse who kicked me out of the room just minutes before.

                "How are you doing?" He says to me in a calm voice

                "I don't need your sympathy," I reply.

                "Not here to give you any," is his response. "Just wanted to give you this..."

In my hands, I find myself holding onto a package.

                "It's a present," he says.

                "Can I ask what for?"

                "It's from the nurses in the ward..."

I look up at him with tears building in my eyes, but I try so hard not to let them fall.

                "Thank you," I say.

                "You're welcome," he smiles.

                "You know, your Dad will come around in his own time..." His words were sudden, but they reached my ears, and even though I tried not to hear, I had already heard.

                "I know. He's just taking too long..."

There's a sudden beeping, "Sorry"

                "It's okay." I answer

I fall back into my thinking while he reads the memo he's just received.

                "I think you should come back inside now..." His voice trembles, but it’s not because he's cold.

He didn't have to say much more. Simply by the expression on his face and the tone of his voice, it was enough to tell me that I should be worried, very worried. My thoughts are left chasing after me as I run; sprint as fast as I can up the stairs, dodging corners, nurses and patients to get to where my Mother lies. By the time I arrive, it's already too late.

                "Clear!" I hear the Doctor yell out.

Then my Mother's lifeless body is shocked with a wave of electricity. They repeat this, over and over again, failing each time. I'm left standing here completely motionless. I know what's happening, but I can't carry myself away.

                "Get her out of here!" The Doctor yells even louder when he sees my emotionless figure standing at the door.

 I'm grabbed from behind, and taken aside.

I can hear a voice echoing beside me, but I'm in my own world. I see flashes of what happened and then I realise, then I realise my Mother is now nothing but a lifeless body lying on a bed, and she never got her last wish. She was hanging on, waiting for it, and it just never came.

I hear heavy footsteps running towards me. It's getting louder and louder. Then it stops. I look up and I see my Father's eyes staring straight at me, but he is silent. He has a hopeful look in his eyes, but I'm angry at him. I'm angry because he wasn't here. I'm angry because he never gave to my Mother what she was waiting to hear. I'm angry because if he had been a little earlier, she would have heard it. If he had cared at all, he would have come sooner. Then she wouldn't have had to have a machine live for her while she waited for his voice to say, "I love you".

His eyes are still staring at me, but there's no love and comfort there. There's nothing.

                "She's gone," I tell him.

Now I find myself walking away from my Father. I find myself walking away as he falls down to his knees in shock disbelief, screaming out his sorrow. I'm walking away from a man who couldn't face a reality that has now caught up to him. I'm simply walking away.