One week

This is a true story. It happened about five years ago (I think) but no matter the year I still haven’t forgotten. I hope you like it.

One week

I never really liked hospitals

Always cold like the feeling you get

When you’re sad

The walls are always white and bland

Full of sickness and depression

I was in one for a week

Not being able to move much

Shivering with every cold second going by

And hoping with every ounce of hope in me

That everything would be all right

Every day I would see him

Curled up in his bed

Barely moving and not talking

His eyes closed and his skin cold

He tried to break free several times

So they cuffed him to the bed

I would fold my hands into my lap

And pray to a god I never knew

The doctors said it was a mild coma

Able to move and moan but

Nothing else

I hated being in the room

All depressing and cold

It felt like winter even

In those summer days

For one week nothing changed

Every night our parents would come home

Neither of them would talk

Every night they would cry and pray

That something would change

They never gave up

The doctors said they could do one last thing

There were no guarantees and after that

Nothing could be done

At first I started to lose hope

I would stand their beside him and just look at him

Hoping he would open his eyes and look at me

Our parents would place their hands on my shoulder

Every day and whisper into my ear

Everything will be okay

They never gave up on him

And neither did I

For a boy who never prayed

I prayed every day and night

Hoping for someone to do something

Whether it was god or someone else

By the sixth day every time I would see him

Tears would form in my eyes

I had never seen anyone like that before

But I knew what death felt like

And that feeling was coming back

I could feel it inside me

And as it got closer and closer

I started to feel something else

I looked down and saw it

I saw his hand grasp mine

And right then and there

The feeling disappeared

And I knew

Everything would be okay

The day was July third

It was the seventh day

We had just woken up

And the air was still as quiet as ever

The phone rang that morning

It echoed through the house

You could hear it everywhere

Our parents picked it up

Only two words were spoken

Happy anniversary

Tears rolled down their eyes

As the grasped the phone

It was him

The feeling of loss is powerful

And even more so when you see it coming

To this day I haven’t forgotten that week

And I probably never will

But it’s okay because

Everything will be okay  

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