Last Goodbyes

• Stephanie Nguyen, Grade 6B
• Short Story
• 2018

Everyone had been ambiguous and obstructive about her mother's illness. They all reassured her that her mother was fine, but that wouldn't stop the worries and distraught that built up inside of her. She had no news about her mother's state ever since they lifted her into the ambulance.

Following her instinct, she approached the hospital, a sinking feeling of dread accompanying her all the way. She apprehensively stood outside the hospital room, gathering up her courage. She fidgeted with her skirt. The worries inside her just kept on welling up, worries that tasted like bile in her throat. The smell of disinfectant took over her senses. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a weak figure. Her mother seemed so fragile, her pale, translucent skin blending in with the white bedsheets. Her hair was whisper thin, she was barely recognisable.

The young girl reminisced the happier times. She could still remember their last picnic together. Her mother’s long, cascading hair, glistening in the sunlight. Her eyes shined and crinkled whenever she laughed. Her skin glowed, radiating beauty, a picture of health. These were the times where smiles were true elation and unfeigned...
It was all taken for granted.
But oh, what she would do to get those times back.

Now, her mother sat on a cold, sterile hospital bed, holding onto life by a thread. Living, only by the tubes and wires attached to her. The traumatised girl couldn’t take it any longer, trembling, she turned and ran down the corridor of the cancer ward. She could feel hot tears running down her cheeks. She screwed her eyes tightly shut to bear the pain in her heart and made her way out of the building that reeked of death. Time seemed to stand still, she felt a dread sense of helplessness, the image of her frail mother imprinted in her mind forever.

She yearned for the moments of happiness. Her mother twirling her in the air in their little secret garden filled with forget-me-nots, her mother’s favourite flower. She missed the simple times like Sunday mornings. Her mother always greeted her with a hug and a kiss, her tinkling laughter echoing across the room. When she closed her eyes, she could still smell the warm aroma of her mother’s latest baked treat. She wanted to go back in time, just to say how thankful she was.

She wished she had the courage to recompose herself that day to say her last goodbyes...a chance to say how much she loved her. Now she stands in black in front of a grey stone, and, although she was surrounded by others, she felt isolated, alone and lost. She wished she could feel her mother’s warm and familiar embrace again. Everyone’s reassurance felt like dead leaves underfoot, cold and meaningless. How could they ever understand the pain she was enduring?