Letter 1

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A/N-  Hey so this is my second story on here. Some aspects of this story have been taken from my own personal experiences so far. 

Anyway PLEASE fan me and vote or comment.  Would be great to hear what people think?!

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Dear Mum,

You are lying here within these four white walls. Trapped within yourself. There are so many wires and tubes pumping chemicals into the frail remains of your body. Your eyes have sunken so far, you’re tired even though you have been in a constant state of sleep for what feels like an eternity. No one speaks, the only noise we hear is the slow monotone sound that symbolises your heartbeat. It’s slowing. The doctor said they only put you in this induced coma so your body could heal. Heal from the life- threatening mistakes made by a narcissistic surgeon who thought he knew best. He didn’t. Our family is now suffering the consequences of his mistake. Dad has gone to get coffee; he hasn’t slept properly in weeks. None of us have. He sits watching you, his eyes brimming with love and admiration. Every time I come here I feel a wave of panic wash over me. I can’t bare the confinement that hospitals entail. I hold your hand willing for you to squeeze back to rub circles on my palms, but you don’t. You can’t. The heart monitor signals that your heart is slowing, the beeping becoming more irregular. I’ve said goodbye to you every day for weeks, not knowing whether it would be the last time I would be able to hold you, to feel your warm breath. I listen now for your breathing, hoping for the machine to be faulty. I listen finding the fleeting sound of your breathing. Dad walks in with Ellie, I promised you I would look after my little sister; protect her from the agony that lay ahead. I will try my hardest for you, like always. As the door squeaked shut we all gave each other a knowing nod, Dad pressed the button so that the nurses would know what was coming. We all slowly crawled onto the bed with you, being wary of the cables. There was no way I was going to let you go mum. Your breathing was becoming softer, your pulse becoming sluggish. I turned my head and buried it into your side and whispered ‘I love you’ we all held you so tight as if we were all trying to hold you to this bed, to this world...we failed. The heart monitor sounded the end with its long monotone drill. You were gone.

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