The five of us stayed at the hospital for hours doing nothing but waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
Derek, my only source of amusement, had fallen asleep an hour after he had gotten her. He slept sitting up straight with his head hanging off the chair. On any other occasion I would have laughed and taken a picture of him. Instead, I had rolled my eyes and flipped through a magazine. Now, I was pacing around the small waiting room, which had very little people in it.
Finally, at 11:29 pm, a doctor walked toward our section of people.
My dad walked toward the doctor.
"How is she?" Dad asked.
The doctor said 2 dreadful words no one wants to hear from a doctor, "I'm sorry."
"You're kidding right?" Dad asked. The doctor shook his head.
"She's gone," She said, slowly.
I never got to say goodbye to her. At least she's in a better place now. She's happier now.
But she's also gone. I'll never see her again. I'll never hear her babble about her day, or sing while she cleans. I’ll never taste her cooking.
"Maddy," A voice behind me whispered. I turned around to see Derek. He whipped the tears from my face before pulling me into a hug. A sob escaped my chest. The sob soon became a wail. We just stood there. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore.
"Feel better?" Derek asked.
"Not really," I replied. "I just want to go home and go to sleep."
"Okay, let's go," Derek said. I nodded and followed him to his car.
