Final Breath

Epilogue

I hear machines beeping and I can feel tubes in my arms. I'm laying under a very warm hospital blanket that must've come right out of the hospital dryer or something.
Dad's watching my heart monitor machine intently, not even looking at me. I see he's found my will, as well as the other paper that has my funeral arrangements on it. Both papers are in his lap.
'Hey,' I croak out to him, and he immediately snaps his head in my direction. I hold my hand out to him, and he takes it in his, even though I barely feel it. He's obviously crying, but I don't shed a tear. Somehow, I know I'm okay.
'Go home to Ty,' I tell him, 'tell him I love him please. Raise him just as you did me. Make sure that he knows you love him, and for both of you, I'll tell Mom to look after you too."
Dad sobs into his arms as he kisses my cheek one last time, and offers a gentle squeeze of my hand. I can tell he really doesn't want to leave me alone in my hospital room, but I don't want him to see me take my final breath. I definitely don't want Tyson witnessing that.
Just as the door clicks shut behind Dad as he leaves the room, the last portion of oxygen leaves my body, and the only sound left is the flatline sound that screams louder than any sound of the world.