Room 928

Each uncomfortable, struggled breath she took made me flinch. Would this one be her last? To watch such a strong being face defeat was too confusing and heartbreaking to fully comprehend. Nothing could numb the pain that was taking over my heart as I watched her unwillingly lose her battle against her precious life.

"Stay strong, grandma. Don't give up, keep fighting." I gently whispered into her ear.

I wish I could have saved her. I wish I could have changed the outcome of the situation, but all I could do was talk, try, wish for something better than the reality at hand. I knew she was slipping away. There was no hope in a miracle saving her and washing away all the horror I had faced.

"You'll be ok, right? You'll be ok! Please just tell me you will make it, please!" I wailed.

I could not even count the number of tubes, pills, and needles I saw being forced into her motionless body that day. I knew it was the end, but even then I still had a distant hope of the doctor walking back into the room and telling me she would be ok, telling me he had found a cure.

I was first handedly witnessing a murder; The vicious cancer was killing her from the inside out, showing no shame and refusing to stop hurting her.
Her cold, still fingers interlocked with mine.

"I won't let go, I promise. I'll never let go." I said as a hot stream of tears dropped onto her unappealing, stale hospital gown.

Again, I got no response.

I knew she felt my presence around her and heard my cries, which was the only comfort I found as I sat in the dull, quiet room.
She could hear the love in my voice, the concern, the devastation.
The worst part of it all was knowing that this would be her last day in this world, her last chance to breathe in the same air as me, even if she needed tubes and nurses to help her do so.

"Wake up, Grandma. Please, for me, just wake up."

It was hopeless.

It was strange knowing I was about to lose her. The thought of life without her sent a chill up my spine. I was about to face a quiet, boring world.

I did not want to have to say goodbye to her, my grandmother, my best friend, the happiest, brightest person I had ever known. She was my life line. I relied on her advice for nearly everything. Her careful, wise advice.

Even as tubes were wired through her body, needles were sticking into her delicate, bony arms, and heavy pain medication paralyzed her fragile body, she was still so beautiful.

I ignored the bruises, her washed out, dull skin, the dried blood on her face and wounds. Those did not stop her from being beautiful. Those marks were not part of her; They were marks left by her killer, cancer. Reguardless, no blemish could hide her stunning allure. She would forever be beautiful to me.

I closed my eyes and pictured her just a month earlier, laughing as the warm summer sun danced over her. She sat on the brick steps underneath the big red awning, smiling as she held my grandfather's hand. I consumed one delectable french macaroon after another as I listened to the numerous life stories she was sharing with us. Her peach cheeks and rosy lips made her look so alive.

I opened my eyes and looked at her pasty white face; This was my new reality. She was not the same.
As hard as I tried to make myself believe she would be ok, believe she would wake up healthy and be the same person she was merely a month ago, I knew she would never be that shining, strong, lively person anymore.

Days passed in the same, slow cycle. I sat holding her delicate hand for hours on end in between fits of tears and frustration as she laid there, frozen.

The gentle voice of Van Morrison ran throughout her room. Van Morrison was her favorite artist, so I didn't let a second go by without his music filling her ears. I knew she could hear it, and if she were capable of doing so, she would have smiled.

I sat next to her listening to the song "Brown eyed Girl". She used to always call me her brown eyed girl. I got lost in the music; It was my only escape from the situation.

"Someone get a nurse!" My grandfather bellowed in distress.

An endless outpouring of blood began to drip out of her nose and mouth onto her chest.

I let go of her hand and darted down the never ending hallway, whispering "I'll be right back," as I left. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, I could not reach the nurses soon enough. Each stride took so much effort. Was I running through quick sand? My legs were giving out, and the hallway kept stretching, keeping me farther and farther away from the nurses. If something happened to her it would be my fault because I couldn't get there fast enough.

Once I reached the young woman behind the desk, I yelled "Get a nurse over to room 928, Now, NOW! Please she needs help!!!!"

As the nurses quickly moved towards that dreaded, dismal room full of heartbreak and sorrow, I collapsed onto the floor. I stayed there for what felt like hours, sitting in a pool of my tears. Through blurred vision, I saw the sihlouettes of doctors rushing towards that terrible room with needles and unusual tools.

This was the end. I gathered my strength and slowly made my way back, one slow, heavy step after another.

My mother was wrapped in my father's arms, bawling into his broad chest, as my innocent, confused brother sat in the corner watching the madness, not knowing what else to do.

And my grandfather, my poor grandfather, gave the love of his life one last kiss on her gentle lips. As he pulled away from her face, blood was smeared on his cheeks. I wiped his face with a towel and told him I loved him. I didn't know what else to say to him.

I stared around the room at all the chaos, then back at my grandmother. Through all the commotion, all the people playing with her body in hope of helping her, she remained still and lifeless.

Hope was an empty, meaningless word. There was no such thing as hope anymore, no so such thing as a miracle. All I knew now was devastation.

Every doctor in the room suddenly went silent, and the cacophony of noises coming from the machine attached to her stopped .

"It is time to say goodbye" said the nurse with curly, chestnut brown hair.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes.

She didn't move or talk, she just stared. She knew her time was running out. I will never forget the way she looked at me in that moment. Her tired, bloodshot eyes met with mine, and I knew what she was trying to communicate... goodbye.

She struggled to keep her eyes open in the midst of everyone's screams and tears. But still, I stayed silent, holding her hand, just watching her. A troubled breath made it's way out of her dying body. It was her last.

As her eyes gently shut, I looked up at the doctor. She took her hand out of my grasp and felt her fragile, bruised wrist.

"She's gone." the doctor mumbled.

All that was left now was a body. A barren, lifeless body.

"Goodbye, Grandma."

Reflection of Quarter 1

This semester has taught me to express my creativity through all types of writing. Whether it is poetry, 6 word memoirs, or short stories, I have learned to let my voice really shine through my words. I envision myself carrying on expressing my voice in simple, short works next semester and far in the future because that is how I best organize my writing. I would eventually like to create a short booklet of all my poetry works. As a second project, I would love to write a detailed, lengthly personal narrative. I love putting lots of effort into my writing because it feels great when a person reads something I have written and feels heavily impacted by my story. Learning to accept my creative voice as a writer and incorperate it into each piece I work on has majorly helped me develop my writing this quarter, and I can't wait to continue developing my voice in writing for the rest of the school year.

Good Morning

As I peacefully laid underneath the cool, soft, freshly pressed sheets, I had never felt so at ease. The gentle warmth of the summer sun peered in through the window and danced over my body. I took long, deep breathes, savoring the crisp scent of the dewey morning trees outside.
There was something so beautiful about waking up with no worries, no stress, no unnecesary anxiety.
So far, every morning this summer began with a stream of tears leaving my innocent, chestnut eyes.
But this unusually lovely morning was unlike most.
My head sank further down into the heavenly pillow underneath me.
I felt calm, peaceful. This was the first morning in months I had not woken up to a dull, grey world. The spontaneous rush of happiness within me that morning was like no other. I couldn't remember the last time I saw beauty in the world, all I had been exposed to was darkness. But after that morning, obtaining true happiness was such a elementary concept. Waking up each morning and simply not caring about anything in the outside world brought me serenity. I finally understood how to get by. I wish that simple, yet profound moment in time could have lasted forever. No more pain, no more troubles, no more distress.

Inside

I let him in.

He learned my secrets,

saw my scars,

won my trust,

then broke me.

Love is nothing but an empty word now.

Thorns

She was delicate, gentle, beautiful.

Soft to the touch, with an enticing, pleasant fragrance.

Her milky white complexion was flushed with rosy cheeks.

She radiated love and passion, yet embodied purity.

Her simplicity was delightfully romantic.

She was the most elegant, picturesque being I had ever laid my eyes on.

Yet, she came with thorns.

An uninviting, displeasing feature that masked her extraordinary beauty from others.

Providing protection from the world, yet concealing her innocence and fertility, her thorns made it nearly impossible for others to see past her surface.

She would not blossom into a proud, passionate, vibrant creature; For her fear of only being seen for her thorns held her back from opening up to become vulnerable, to reveal herself.

But I saw her for who she truly was.

She was not a fierce, dark creature.

A tender, good natured soul unseen to most because of how she appeared. 

Others could not bathe in her beauty.

They could only avoid what they thought she was, without ever knowing how lovely she was inside.