It's All White
White…it’s all white. That’s all I can think of, strangely. The sheets on the bed, the floors, the walls…all of it is white. The cover on the IV hooked up to my arm. The hospital gown I’m wearing. Or wait…no, I think that’s more green. But they’re taking that off me. I don’t really understand what’s going on…the cloth is slipped over my head, gently, and my own pajamas are slid on. “She should…” someone whispers softly, and then “her own clothes.”
Blinking my eyes, I look up and make out the face of my mom. Why is she crying? “Mom?” I try to say, but I can’t make my voice work. She takes my hand, but it hurts when she touches me. It hurts all over.
Everyone else is leaving, everyone but my mom. “Katie,” she says, her voice full of tears.
“Mommy?” I whimper. “Mommy!” I am fifteen years old and I’m crying for my mommy.
“It’s time to say goodbye,” the doctor tells my mother gently. They’re both looking at me, both trying not to cry. Why?
I can’t think. Everything slides away, into darkness.