Written on the Stars

My Mother, My Angel

*One Week Later*

I'm finally home.I smiled at my well-kept living room. Bleach filled my nostrils and the coffee table was the shiniest I every saw it. Monica had been cleaning my house non-stop because it's her method of relaxing. It felt odd walking around with no tubes in my arm or having the heart motioner beeping. Monica came through the front door, carrying the clothes I've been wearing at the hospital.

I flopped on the couch and wrapped myself in a blanket. I breathed in the blanket, that smelt like laundry detergent. Fortunately, my Grandma was able to come home with me. She was a big help while I was at the hospital. She was calm and never showed her nervousness, unlike Monica, who was stressed about everything.

"I'll wash these," Monica said. I didn't see her facial expression because my head was buried in the blanket. I heard the sound of her walking up the stairs.

"Gilbert, I have to talk to you," Grandma said.

"Okay."

"You mother," She began and I dug my head out of the blankets, so I can look at her face,"I'll going to pull the plug."

As my eyes widened, I jumped out of the blankets. Please, let me have heard that wrong.Please, let my mother be safe and sound.

"Please don't," Those words struggled out of my mouth, slowly and painfully.

I felt a headache coming on and I felt dizzy like the whole world was spinning around me.I grabbed my head.

"I have to."She said.Her hair covering her face.

"I haven't had enough time with her!" I yelled, angerly. I felt betrayed, she was doing this on purpose.

"Gilbert, she's never going to wake up."She stood up and tried to grab my arms, but I back up before she could touch me.

"Why are you doing this now?Why couldn't it be when I was a child and never knew her, so I didn't have a connection with her!" I hissed as I wiped the hot tears from my eyes. I breathed in heavily as if I was going to yell, but I couldn't bring words to my mouth. I puffed out my cheeks in anger and I crossed my arms.

Her facial expression destroyed me, so innocent and sad, yet I was never one to back away from a fight even if it's with my grandmother. She brushed her hands through her hair and her bottom lip quivered. She was trying to make me sad or at least apologize.

I turned around, not bearing to watch her face, and ran up the stairs with every step being an anger stomp. I saw Monica still putting my clothes in the washer in the laundry room. I slowly walked over, my anger was washed over by sadness, and I set my head on her shoulder.

Monica jumped from my sudden touch."Gilbert?"She wondered, her voice soft and motherly. I wanted to crawl up next to her in bed and she could cuddle the sadness out. She turned around so I could see her face, her arms were on the washing machine to balance herself.

I layed my head in the crooked of her neck and I breathed in her scent, a beautiful perfume that I had given her for our anniversary. I wanted to be with her forever.

As cheesy as it sounded, I felt like she could make me happy and I felt so lucky to have her in my life. And I wanted to be that lucky man forever.

"She's going to die," I muttered, the tears come dripping to her shirt, I didn't bother to wiped them away.

"Gilbert, I'm sorry." Monica petted my hair and rubbed my back.

"Why does she have to?"I sobbed, embarrassed by my scratchy voice.

"She isn't going to wake up, I know you want her to but it's been years."She replied.

"But, I didn't get enough time. This isn't fair."

"I know. Before they..."She whispered to rest,"You're going to get time alone with her."

I was about to tell her that I wanted more time than that, but then I realized her mother died alone without Monica having to say goodbye. I snuggled my head deeper in her shoulder.

"Do you want me to make you anything?" Monica asked, releasing my head. Our forehead leaned against one another. I smiled, wiping away my tears.

"Pancakes," I laughed, putting my hands on her cheeks. She smiled.

__

I looked at her body that lied there like it always did. She stared at the wall as the doctors fiddled with some medical things.I know it was my imagination, but she looked more peaceful today. My grandmom asked if I'll like alone time with her. I nodded, scooting my chair closer to her.

Once everyone left, I grabbed her hand. I sat in silence before I began to talk.

"Mom," I felt weird saying that, but it felt good,"I love you so much. You probably don't remember me nor can you hear this, but you mean so much to me. I wished I was able to visit you more."My words became more and more rasp."I love you." I sobbed, kissing her cheek before walking to the door and opening.

We stood around the room. Monica grasped my hand, squeezing it. The doctors asked if we were done. I didn't want to cry in front of strangers, so I kept wiping my eyes. I heard the beep of the heart monitor go into one long beep. I stood there emotionless liek the world had stopped. My grandmother broke down in tears.

I rested my head on Monica's head. I cried so long even hours after her death. I wrapped around in a bed on my bed. Monica was curled up against me, sleeping. I couldn't manage to close my eyes for more than five minutes.I couldn't help but imagine a life with my mom in it. I wonder what she was like or her mindset or anything.

Maybe, this was suppose to happen. Everything is falling into place like a sick joke from God.

But why did he have to pick us?