The Time Of Death

The Awakening

I didn't know at the time. Maybe I could've done something to help. I keep getting told that "It was her time" or I "couldn't have done anything to prevent it." I was only 8. But I knew it would happen. I may have not known that I knew, but now I do. I remember the day perfectly. Mom was making breakfast just like every morning.

"Delilah! Breakfast is ready!"

Her sweet voice calling up to me. I smelled the scent of bacon and heard the toast pop up. I would've ran down the steps, and devoured the food, but not today.

"Delilah?" She set the spatula down and walked up the steps. Entering her daughters room she said "Delilah? You alright? I made bacon and eggs." She walked over to the bed and sat on the end. "Delilah wake up." She softly shook the bed. Her daughter slowly turned towards her. "Mommy I don't feel good." She was barely awake and was noticeably uncomfortable. "Oh darling what doesn't feel good?" Her concerning voice glided into the girls throbbing head. "I feel like my head is on fire. And that I'm going to puke." She rolled over into the blankets. "Hold right here darling. I'll get the thermometer." She quickly, yet delicately got up and went to the medicine cupboard.

I remember feeling the sickest I've ever felt in my life. My chest hurt so much and I couldn't even sleep it off. Food was disgusting to me and I felt bad that my mother made that food even though I couldn't eat it. My father would have eaten it, but he left so early for work every morning. My brother had to eat the whole buffet alone. I'm sure he didn't have a problem with it.

She came back into the bedroom with the thermometer. "Here, stick this under your tongue." Delilah took the thermometer, wincing with every move. "Don't open your mouth till you hear the beep." Delilah sat up and finally got a full look at her mother. She opened her mouth and put the thermometer in. A look of horror and pain was washed on her face.

I saw this dirty, gray and red cloud around her. It was kind of clear but definitely noticeable. It scared me. When I looked at it, I got this feeling of dread and the sickness seemed to amplify.

The thermometer beeped but the look of horror stayed on the little girls face. "Honey what's wrong?" She looked at the thermometer, then back at her daughter. "You have a fever so you're going to stay home today. Honey what is it?" Delilah slowly pointed a little off of her mothers head. "There's smoke around you. It has color too. What is it Mommy?" Her mother looked around her and saw nothing. "Sweetie there's no smoke. Just try to relax and go back to sleep okay?" She leaned over Delilah and kissed her forehead.

She must have thought I was going crazy or the fever was causing me to hallucinate. Either way, I know what I saw. I could never forget it. I'll never forget that feeling I got when I looked at it. A few hours later I woke up to my moms voice. She said she had some medicine that I could take to help. I took it and had some water. The 'smoke' was much more solid then it was that morning. I mentioned it again, saying how much darker it was, and I saw that what I said concerned my mom. So I didn't bring it up again. Yet it still stayed, hovering around her and growing darker and darker.

A few hours later, my mother gave me more medicine. Even though it wasn't helping I took it anyway. The 'smoke' was even darker and more sickening to look at.

"How are you feeling?" her mother said. Delilah only shook her head and moaned. "That bad huh? Well your father should be home soon. We will probably have to take you to the doctors tomorrow if you don't feel better. Is that okay?" She nodded and sat up. "Mommy, can you read me a story?" Her mother smiled. "Of course I can. What are we thinking?" She walked over to the book shelf. "Want a short story or finish that novel?"

It didn't matter the story. I just needed a distraction from that awful feeling. And I felt as though I needed to be with my mother. After a while a dozed off.

Delilah fell asleep and her mother pecked her forehead and put the book back. She heard the door open and shut. She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. "Rob, is that you?" She called out. "Yeah honey. In the kitchen." She walked downstairs and hugged her husband. "How was your day?" She asked. "Oh being stuck behind a desk is the best thing ever. So very exciting." They both giggled and kissed each other. "And how was yours?" They walked to the living room and sat down on the couch. "Interesting. Your daughter is sick. High fever and has been on the edge of puking all day." Her voice was very sad and a bit fearful. "What? Why didn't you call? I would've come home." She shrugged. "Didn't want to bother you. And I stayed home with her anyways. Doctor tomorrow?" She stood up. "Yeah I guess we have to. Where you going?" "Start dinner. Just us since Delilah is sick and Toby's at a friends. What do you want?" She winked and he smiled as he said "Linda you are an amazing wife. I love you. And chicken would be amazing." The smiled stayed on his face as she giggled and walked away. "Love you too, you goofball."

I shot up awake from my slumber and felt this awful pain in my chest. I had the impulse to go. I quickly got up and ran down the steps. I heard my father clear his throat in the living room. "Hey Linda, do you-" His voice cut off when he saw me run by, heading for the kitchen. "Honey? You should-" I ignored what he said as I burst into the kitchen to see my mother leaning against the wall. Her hand was placed on her chest and she had a look of pain on her face. She tried so hard to speak, as did I. I tried to yell out to my father but nothing came out. The 'smoke' around her had turned into this slimy goop that was seeping into her chest. "Linda? Deli?" I ran over to my mother and she slid to the floor. My voice finally came back as I screamed as hard as I could. My father ran into the room and yelled a bit as well. He ran over to the phone and dialed 911. "Yes my wife's heart. Something's wrong. I need an ambulance."

My sickness was replaced with sorrow and fear. My chest was throbbing and tears were running down my face. "Mommy? Please say something! Mommy!" The goop was completely absorbed be her skin, and was nowhere to be seen. I looked in her eyes, and saw the color fade away.

The rest of the night was full of sirens, tears and sadness. I watched my mother be put onto the gurney, and a sheet being pulled over her head. Her face was so peaceful and her body fragile. I watched my father cry as he talked to police and the paramedics. My brother and I sat on the couch, hand in hand. I felt nothing. No emotions, no sickness, and no pain. I was told that she had so much love in her heart, that it couldn't handle it. I was only 8, and my brother was only 12. My mother died, and I knew she was going to. I could've saved her.