Life has always been such a fragile thing. One miss step, one untimed moment, one thoughtless move all could leave you lifeless. Would you see the light at the end of the tunnel? The famed 'white light' you see as your draw your last breath. Was it as beautiful as they said? As warm and inviting as those told us it was?
Would your rather know when you were to die, or know how you were to die? What if you knew both? Would you change they way your lived for your last days? Would you tell those you love how you feel, would you dance in the rain? Give all the things you had away, try to make someone happy?
And if you couldn't?
If you were trapped in a bed for your final moments, how would you cope with your fading life? Life was beautiful, yet so cruel.
George knew how and when death would come. But not for him, for his mother. So when his sister called with tears choking her words, he knew. He knew right away. So why wasn't he crying? Why wasn't he upset? The drive back to his house was silent. He knew Clay was nervously awaiting answers to his questions. George didn't speak a word.
If there was any doubt in his mind of his mother's failing health, the flashing lights of ambulances parked outside his home were every bit of confirmation.
When they pulled in, George heard Clay say something. He couldn't make it out, Clay's words were muddied and muffled. George flung the door open and ignored all else as he entered the house. He had one thing on his mind.
Eliza.
His little sister was the one who walked in on their mother being unresponsive. His little sister was the one to call 911. His little sister, his baby sister, was the one to call him, and tell him mom wasn't okay.
She was sitting on the couch. A paramedic beside her trying to comfort her. George looked at her. Once he was in front of her, he collapsed to his knees, pulling her into a tight hug. She sobbed.
George remembered when Eliza was born, she was a happy baby. She only smiled and giggled. She never cried. And she grew up that way. If Eliza got hurt, she laughed it off. She was so strong. So seeing her, a snotty crying mess. Well that hurt George more than anything. He held her close, letting her cry.
Time didn't feel real.
He watched the paramedics move about the room. But as they moved, time seemed to slow. They walked incredibly slowed down. But the ticking of George's new watch was sped up.
She was strapped to a gurney. An oxygen mask over her frail lips. George instinctively covered Eliza's eyes. He watched as they wheeled his unconscious, dying mother out of the door and watched Clay enter.
He looked worried. Once he saw the woman being taken away, he knew. Clay walked over to George and kneeled beside him. He spoke again. It was muffled.
Only an hour ago, life was so beautiful. Life was so full and bright.
Now it was dark.
Life was fragile.
