Waking Up : A Short Story : Waking Up?

I sat there in my room with tears flowing down my blush pink cheeks. Wondering what was wrong with me, as a salty tear ran along my dried out chapped lips. I thought to myself,” Why am I so miserable? What did I do to deserve this? How am I going to escape this life?” I started to ponder that this was the end of my life, this is how I was going to be, sorrowful. At the lowest point of my life, mother came barging through the door with the look of cavernous concern on her face. She knew that it was time for something to be done, whether I agreed or not.

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

I sat down to write this eulogy the weekend before my mother died. I was in a chair next to her bed, keeping her company as she dozed. Initially, I thought this would be the hardest thing I would ever write. But the truth is, as I watched her sleep, I took comfort in knowing she was lost in a dream-world instead of plagued by her dark reality—and the words poured out of me like I too was lost in a world of dreams. Dreams that brought me back to the imaginary games we played when I was just a kid, secrets confided between a mother & dauggter, lessons learned, I love you”s exchanged, her beaming pride, our friendship, arguments that exhausted both of us, and the reconciliations that always brought us back together.

I am not an early bird, I never was. I struggle a lot with waking up and when I do; I have difficulties staying awake. Thanks, a lot, to technology, a device was invented to make the waking up process a lot simpler for me. The coffee maker, the Superman to my incessant sleep.

I didn’t know what I would do without Mother; she was my rock, the only thing that was constant in my life. She was my generous advisor, unmoving and strong. I pushed these thoughts away from my head; that was in the past, I couldn’t change it, and it could never be undone. Finally reaching my destination, I sprinted up the front steps, grabbed the brass knocker, and slammed it onto the giant wooden door. The door creaked open, and an annoyed voice spoke through the crack. “Adi, I’m busy right now, please come later.” The door was starting to close before I spoke, “Elle,” I said, my voice cracking, “please, Mother has died, and this act has been passed, and Father doesn’t know what to do, and I don’t know what to do.” The door flung open, and Elle started running in the direction of our house. I ran after her, and when we reached the house, Elle pushed the door open, and yelled, “Father? Father? I’m here!” When she finally found my father, sitting at the table, head in his hands, she embraced him from behind. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Girls, sit down, we have matters to discuss.” He

“Momma, I just want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry you're going through this. I’m sorry daddy left. I’m sorry you weren’t able to fulfill your dreams. I’m sorry for not saying sorry sooner and that I love you. Regardless of what you did to me, I forgive you. I pray you can forgive me also.” She kissed her mother on the forehead and gave her a warm, tight hug she only dreamed of. She grabbed her hands. “I won’t allow you to suffer.”

September 27th 2009. I was on my dad’s weekend and my mom was in the hospital for a weeks. I would visit her every day and sometimes bring her flowers. But on september 27th I woke up and walked into my living room and my dad was sitting on the couch looking sad. I asked what was wrong and then a knock was heard on the door it was my step dad and half brother. My step dad had puffy eyes he was crying. He told me to sit down and my brother came out and sat next to me. My dad looked at us and he spoke up your mother had just passed this morning. I was shocked I was hurt I was scared.I didn’t know if i should cry or run away. I’ve learned that losing someone you love is tough.

When I got my family was around our wooden table. My dad on his soft voice said “ I don’t think your grandpa will go through one more night, you need to call him” he cried. I felt like I couldn’t do it, felt so week and a huge hole in my stomach, something I’ve never felt before, I grabbed the phone and when I was about to call, the phone ringed, I passed the phone to my dad, It was my aunt sobbing and barely able to speak, then she said “ he passed away, I’m sorry honey” I couldn’t believe it I didn’t even had the chance to say

I've been here three days, and every morning this has happened, I'm forced to remember my mother's death and all the feelings that had come with it, all over again. "Yeah, um, it is." I tell her. A warm tear falls slowly down my freckled cheek, hits my lips and spreads across my mouth. I'm so tired of her persistent nagging, that perhaps I'll leave the house today. I could go on a walk or something,

I knew from that point on everything was going to be okay and she was a fighter. After a few weeks of chemo she was able to go back home and take care of herself again. I didn’t want to bother her or make her tired so I tried not to ask as many questions or talk as much. On our last real morning together she woke me up and asked me, is it coffee for one or two? I smiled and said make it two I had a rough night. She laughed at me and said one it is and milk and honey for the youngest nurse I’ve ever had.as we always did we had our morning talk, but this talk was different. She told me, if anyone ever asks about me tell them my name was Ruth Mae Marks I was born a Simmons and I was a fighter. I raised all of my girls to be fighters just like me. I looked at her with a confused face as she smiled at me and said, my life was spent work all day until you came along and I had a reason to retire. She told me every morning I gave her something to live for just because she knew I would always be there waiting for her. I started to cry because I knew this was her good bye, she told me tears were made of salt and salt was made for cooking not running down your face. This was the morning I learned how to make red velvet cake and the last morning I got to talk with my grandmother. As much as I miss her I’m glad she’s at peace. Every day I spend my mornings talking to her in hopes that she hears me and I’m making her proud of me. She made me a fighter and a strong believer that I can overcome

We took a bag of food and water that can last us about a week,

I get to school, still taken aback from the events earlier, and I become more and more apprehensive as the day goes on. The fact that I didn’t get a text from my mom during school, telling me anything about an update on Annie’s situation, worried me, because that meant Annie was either still at the vet or something was really wrong. My brother drove us home from school, oblivious to the fact that Annie had a seizure that morning. The moment I walk in the door to the house and set my stuff down, I see my dad standing in the doorway of the kitchen, with his arms out. I walk towards him, and my mom is there too, and

I remember waking up early one morning with my dad saying "lets go get the stuff in the car" Then we got the stuff in the car and we drove off to Phoenix/Mesa airport.

“Have a good day at school Lili,” my mom said to me as I was running out the door to catch the bus. I had barely caught the bus to go to school. When I got to school I had knew that my grandma was going to Heaven today, even though my parents did not tell me that I just knew she was because of how bad she was doing with her stage 4 cancer. I could barely focus at school because I was just waiting to know what had happened even if she had passed away, because I knew when she passed away she would be in a much better place than here on Earth where she was in pain but when she is in Heaven she will have know pain and know cancer.

Laying down, holding the letter to her chest, she closed her eyes for the very last time. A few hours later, her little brother knocks on her door to come tell her dinners ready. She didn 't answer, so he walks in. All he sees is her laying in her bed, so he thought she was asleep. He told her mom this. Her mom goes to her room to wake her up. She notices something is odd. She grabs the paper in her hand and reads it. Sobbing, she tries to wake her up. She’s screaming her name. Your brother, so confused, runs to go tell Dad that “Mommy is crying and you won’t wake up.” Your dad runs to your room. He looks at her mom, crying, holding the letter to her chest, sitting next to her lifeless body. It hits him, and he screams. He screams and throws something at the wall. And then, falling to his knees, he starts to cry. Her mom crawls over to him, and they sit there, holding each other, crying. The next day at school, there’s an announcement. The principal tells everyone about her suicide. It takes a few seconds for it to sink in, and once it does, everyone goes silent. Everyone blames themselves. Her teachers think they were too hard on her. Those mean popular girls, they think of all the things they’ve said to you. That boy that used to tease you and call you names, he can’t help but hate himself for never telling you how good you really are. Your ex boyfriend, the one that you told everything to, that broke up with you.. he can’t handle it. he breaks