I was okay until the screaming started. My nerves had already been shredded by the noise and the stench of fear, death, and antiseptic.
It rose out of nowhere, a wail on a ghostly wind, and then it got louder and louder and louder until finally I was curled in the corner, with my hands over my ears. The screams got louder, screaming no my baby, no my baby, nomybabygodwhy, over and over and over.
I knew what the screaming was for, but I couldn’t think it aloud, because then it would be all too real. The realization wouldn’t hit me until later, but all I could think about were the screams, the pain, the anguish, and the—
I heard running. I went to get out of my seat, but the running kept going, past the gray slate door, away from the room, the room that held us in waiting for Death. I was cooped up in this room with these plastic, tiny chairs, and the oxygen was seeping from the room. I felt light headed.
The screaming suddenly stopped, and then there was a maddening silence, as Death hushed all signs of Life.