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Description
I didn't want to be there, in the waiting room, just...waiting.  I wanted to run, dance, punch something, anything but wait.  It's painful to wait like that.  To wait for someone you love to die.  I kept thinking that I should've prepared myself more for it, so that's what I did.  She's old.  She was gone for a long time, you just never realized it.  It won't be much different...but it was different.  I could talk to her before, I could watch her smile and fidget with her blanket.  I could see her calm others with the touch of her soft, sweet skin....like magic.  As much as I didn't want to be there, I had to.  I couldn't leave.  Not when she could just die when I was gone.  That was not a chance I was willing to take.

I did leave.  I left because it was the third day and I was beginning to think she wouldn't die.  I was beginning to think that she would be stuck in the ICU for the rest of her life, even it was short.  So I left.  We were only going to be gone for twenty minutes.  My family owned a restaurant and we were going to pick up dinner.  We were in the car, about to reach the restaurant when my sister got a call.  I had no idea that it happened, but I felt like it did.  She hung up and told my cousin in the front seat to act calm.  There was no need to get upset when we were so close to the restaurant.  But I couldn't.  I was shaking, cold, anything but numb.  Finally I did it.  I cried out, by accident.  I couldn't take it---it was too much. I hadn't realized that we were already parked.  But it was a good thing, because as soon as they heard my cries they lost it too.

We crossed the dark parking lot and walked into the restaurant.  Our paths were blurred with our tears.  We ignored the weary glances from the other workers.  My sister ran to my dad and began sobbing on his shoulder.  My cousin was comforting me, not finding any for herself.  The customers there gave us sympathetic looks, and that only made me mad.  I didn't want their sympathy.  The only thing I wanted was gone.

We grabbed the food and headed to her house, now abandoned.  Most of the family was already there.  The food sat on tiop of the broken stove getting cold, no one really had an appetite.  We sat on the floor, well the kids did at least, and the living room was over crowded with sadness and crying bodies.  Finally, someone spoke.  We needed to make arrangements.  The wake, the obituaries, the funeral.  It all needed to be done.  So we did what we do best.  We sucked it up and pretended like everything was normal.  And then we went on with the arrangements.

Description
I didn't want to be there, in the waiting room, just...waiting.  I wanted to run, dance, punch something, anything but wait.  It's painful to wait like that.  To wait for someone you love to die.  I kept thinking that I should've prepared myself more for it, so that's what I did.  She's old.  She was gone for a long time, you just never realized it.  It won't be much different...but it was different.  I could talk to her before, I could watch her smile and fidget with her blanket.  I could see her calm others with the touch of her soft, sweet skin....like magic.  As much as I didn't want to be there, I had to.  I couldn't leave.  Not when she could just die when I was gone.  That was not a chance I was willing to take.

I did leave.  I left because it was the third day and I was beginning to think she wouldn't die.  I was beginning to think that she would be stuck in the ICU for the rest of her life, even it was short.  So I left.  We were only going to be gone for twenty minutes.  My family owned a restaurant and we were going to pick up dinner.  We were in the car, about to reach the restaurant when my sister got a call.  I had no idea that it happened, but I felt like it did.  She hung up and told my cousin in the front seat to act calm.  There was no need to get upset when we were so close to the restaurant.  But I couldn't.  I was shaking, cold, anything but numb.  Finally I did it.  I cried out, by accident.  I couldn't take it---it was too much. I hadn't realized that we were already parked.  But it was a good thing, because as soon as they heard my cries they lost it too.

We crossed the dark parking lot and walked into the restaurant.  Our paths were blurred with our tears.  We ignored the weary glances from the other workers.  My sister ran to my dad and began sobbing on his shoulder.  My cousin was comforting me, not finding any for herself.  The customers there gave us sympathetic looks, and that only made me mad.  I didn't want their sympathy.  The only thing I wanted was gone.

We grabbed the food and headed to her house, now abandoned.  Most of the family was already there.  The food sat on tiop of the broken stove getting cold, no one really had an appetite.  We sat on the floor, well the kids did at least, and the living room was over crowded with sadness and crying bodies.  Finally, someone spoke.  We needed to make arrangements.  The wake, the obituaries, the funeral.  It all needed to be done.  So we did what we do best.  We sucked it up and pretended like everything was normal.  And then we went on with the arrangements.