I remember it clearly, me and my cousins were excited to finally see you again but for some reason my heart was heavy. Unlike us, the adults were concerned and their moods were sour. We were allowed to enter your room one at a time so I had an alone time with you. You looked like you're in deep sleep. You have the perfect fair skin, also having gray hair didn't downgrade your beauty and it's not like I've seen you with a darker hair color. I also noticed how your whole body was unusually plump and I thought, "oh they must be feeding you well", but that was not the case.
Machine sounds creeps me out but I don't mind hearing it if that's what keeps you alive. You are a fashionista but now you're just wearing a bland-looking hospital dress. You woke up when I called you, I wanted to talk to you but having medical tube inserted in your throat makes a conversation impossible. I thought, "how can she drink her favorite coca cola drink if she has that in her throat?"
You can't speak, so I can only watch you struggle to even make an audible sound.
"Nay, ayaw nag istorya." I remember my nine-year-old self suppressing my tears because I hated seeing your already cloudy eyes get filled with tears as you exert effort to talk. I even saw how your hands and arms that were bruised, because of needles, move trying to reach just the hem of my shirt. I was afraid that I'll be the one to hear your last words, so I keep telling you not to utter a single word but you still tried.
You wished to watch my elementary graduation and more graduations later on, while I prayed to God, almost begging him to take away your pain because we had plans, right? However, stars don't always align.