When the Time Comes

 

 

 

 

 

 

I lay in the hospital bed, next to the IV drip. I watched the bag. It was still full. To think that they were injecting that stuff into me...ugh. It just sent shivers down my spine. I didn't even want to think about it.

After my lunch was brought to me, I held my phone in my hands. I ran my thumb over the call button again and again, debating on whether I should call...

Maybe not. 

Would it hurt my family to know what condition I was in?

Would it hurt them to know that I was suffering from brain cancer?

Would it hurt them to know that I never told them the truth? That I told them I was in Hawaii having fun while I was stuck in the hospital in truth?

Finally, I snapped my phone shut.

No use. I was just torturing myself. My family would find out when they found out. I probably wouldn't be here anymore, but at least they would know.

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Two days later

 

 

I watched the second hand on the clock tick by. Every second was so significant. Every second took away some time from my life. The time that my eyes would be open; the time that my heart would still be beating.

Again, I contemplated on calling my family, this time, my mother.

But again, I decided against it.

 

--------

 

One month later

 

 

I feel myself getting weak. It's bothersome to even keep my eyes open now. Maybe...perhaps...it's time to let my parents know? The doctors still come in but I can tell they don't see me as a priority anymore, no longer a life they need to save.

I picked up my cell phone from the stand next to my hospital bed. 

But, I guess I don't know what happened after that, because everything went black and all I heard was a phone clattering to the ground

 

And then....

 

BEEP.

Goodbye, world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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In case it was confusing, yes, she died. 

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