You were at hospital with your husband, Prodigy, regarding your terminally ill daughter, Liliana. She needed a heart transplant because her heart was weak and wasn’t pumping a regular amount of blood each day, which caused her to sleep all day and be inactive. You and Prodigy were trying to raise money to get her a transplant, but neither of you had 5,000 dollars off the bat. You and Prodigy sat in the waiting room, holding your sick child, who was losing the color in her skin slowly. A doctor came out, scanning his clipboard then looking in the direction of the waiting room area.
“Y/N and Craig Crippen?” he called out.
Both of you sighed thankfully, getting up and going over to the doctor.
“Follow me,” he said.
The doctor lead you and Prod into two double doors, walking down a long hallway which were filled with hospital rooms. One particular room caught your attention. You saw a woman standing over a little boy, sobbing. The heart monitor gave out a long beep, signalling the doctors that the little boy had died. The doctors grabbed each side of the bed sheets, covering the now deceased boy. Your heart cringed with sympathy. You could just imagine losing your little girl. Liliana was your first, your everything, you couldn’t imagine. You were taken from your deep intermost thoughts, walking into a hospital room.
“Lay Liliana down, please?” the doctor directed me. I did as he said, gently placing her on the hospital bed.
“Now… I can’t really do much since you haven’t paid for a heart transplant. All I can do is just give you a prescription to prevent her from feeling weak. She can stay here overnight, but that’s all I can real d-“
“That’s all you can do?” Prod interrupted him, clenching his jaw.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Crippen, but it takes a lot for a transplant. You don’t have health insurance to back you up, so the alternative is paying out of pocket.”
You held onto Prod’s arm, trying to calm him down. An awkward silence occured, causing tension to build
The doctor sighed, “I’m sorry.”
He walked out, leaving you and Prod to stand there and recap on what occurred. Just then, Prodigy yanked his arm away, starting to pace.
“I’m not going to let my babygirl die. No. It’s not going to happen, Y/N. I will kill myself just to let my little girl experience the values of life,”
“Baby, calm down. We’ll… we’ll figure this out. We just have to pray.” you said, walking over to him.
You and Prod looked over to your babygirl, who was now sprawled out on the bed, sleeping.
Something needed to be done… to save your little girl.
Should I continue or nah?
