Left Alone

• Maja Foletta, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2021

Ring! Ring! “I’ll get it,” I exclaimed. But Dad’s hand was already reaching for the phone. He slowly picked up the handset and ushered us out the door with a hissing sound. I knew something bad was about to happen but was oblivious as to what. Once I reached the lounge room, I flopped down on the chair as the ache in my stomach intensified. My brother Zealand stood opposite me, his worried expression replicating mine.

Dad emerged from the room with red rimmed eyes. I immediately knew this was going to be a bad conversation. Mum had left home a couple of days ago for a family emergency and I desperately wanted her here with me now as this dreaded news loomed.

Almost in a whisper, Dad finally spoke. “I’m sorry guys” and he erupted in tears. I scrunched up my face, trying not to cry. He told us that we needed to be strong and not lose hope. “Grandma’s time is almost up” he murmured, “She’s in the hospital now so you’ll need to pack enough clothes for a couple of days. We leave early in the morning”.

All night I tossed and turned in my bed, fearing Grandma wouldn’t be able to hold on until I had a chance to say goodbye. I felt overwhelmingly sad. I had never experienced death before. Memories started flooding back to me. Grandma arriving on the doorstep with a basket of succulent choc chip cookies. The warmth of her heartfelt hugs. The sound of her joyous laugh when I said or did something silly. The smell of her home, all floral scents mixed with the aroma of pinecones burning on the wood fire.

After a number of tedious hours on the phone, we finally arrived at the stark grey building with big lettering that spelt out ‘Maudfield Regional Hospital’. As we walked through the sliding doors, I spied mum in her pale green jumper. At the same time the chemical smell of the ward hit my nostrils and I tried hard to hold my breath to block out the treacherous smell.

Grandma’s tiny body looked so still and I saw she was attached to a heartbeat monitor and what seemed like a hundred wires hidden discreetly beneath the covers. She beckoned me over with a murmur and I bent close to her face so I could hear her muffled last words.

I was later told that Grandma had passed away before we even reached the carpark of the hospital. I will never forget the inspirational words that she shared with me on that sorrowful day. Words that have made me the person I am today.