𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 | billie eilish

033

sunday - april 11, 2021

𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧
𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟎, 𝟖:𝟐𝟎𝐩𝐦
𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬

"The past 36 hours are a blur for her, there isn't really anything she's able to remember in detail," I speak indistinctly as I pull over to the lane beside me; one hand on the steering wheel, no seatbelt securing my body.

My feelings of imprudence and rebellion are mounting alarmingly inside of me, but frankly, I couldn't care less about it all anymore.

"Where even are you, Ella? Doesn't sound like you're at home." My dad suddenly perceives the odd background noises of our call.

"I'm in the car, on the way back to the hospital," I inform him, my clarification consisting of nothing but the truth. "I just drove back home to feed our cat and see Billie for a minute, that's it."

"Please put your phone aside then. You can talk to me later, you hear me?" Ayron suggests in a calm manner, since he is aware that I've been acting on things quite impulsively the past weeks.

"Yeah, whatever," I huff and press the red button on my screen without waiting for him to say his goodbyes.

At this point, my sadness, the continuous numbness, has turned into a mix of unwelcome moodiness and unruly anger. And dealing with these feelings has become one of the most enervating things.

Tears puddle in my eyes once again, but instead of letting them pour down my cheeks, I gulp them back.

Haven't I been frail and vulnerable enough?

I have to give the impression of being in outstanding condition, just this once.

Approximately five minutes go by until I climb out of our car, which I parked near the entrance of the all too familiar building.

Pulling my hood over my glossy hair, I stroll towards the entry,

conscious of the fact that this is going to be the ultimate time of doing so.

I hasten up the stairs until I reach the third floor, terrified I might have dawdled too long at home.

Puffing, I arrive at the door leading into my mom's room.

With Savanna's consent, they detached her from all machines of support, which were then substituted with a nasal cannula and an IV that are now providing her with the very last bit of life, and transferred her to an average hospital room.

In the past weeks she's been confined to her bed the majority of time.

It's been execrably exhausting, and her mood became more dismal as the torturous days progressed.

I wish her to be released from her torment later tonight.

Our memories will linger on, that's beyond a shadow of a doubt.

She concealed her mortal sickness from her surroundings whenever it was required;

and she did an exemplary job at it.