Her hands are on mine, stroking my fingers slowly..
They are waiting outside, inpatiently.
Her voice soothes me, as she sings the lullaby she used to sing when I went to sleep, now to death.
They knock on the door and it disturb us.
Her lullaby continues.
They come in.
Her voice quiets down.
They say it is time.
Her sobs get louder.
They tell my mom to calm down.
Her crying fills the room.
They let her enjoy her last moments with me.
Her kiss on my forehead is the last thing I will take with me.
They are turning off the machines.
Her hand squeezes mine.
They wait one more moment.
Her love is irreplaceable.
They flip the switch.
And its over.
YOU ARE READING
Spirit of Rebellion [Young Writers Short Story Entry]
Short StoryDeath beats life. Or does it? This is a story of pain, numbness, willpower and miracles. It sheds light on an intense struggle against time and forces that are presumably beyond our influence, while showcasing the power of unconditional love for lif...
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