She died a lonely and painful death.
I was too busy maintaining my grades because I was convinced that she would’ve wanted me to do that. But what if I was wrong and she really did want me by her side in those last few precious moments?
For the next few months every night when I closed my eyes I would see her suffering in an empty room.
A lone tear would form in the corner of my eye when I pictured her sitting there hooked up to a bunch of machines.
I’m not a scholar, I’m a horrible son.