Goodbyes

Looking at the little girl lying behind the glass hurts; she shouldn't be here in all this sickness. Her tiny frame synced to the machines with every small rise of her chest, the monitor's line follows. Both arms covered in IVs, the solution trickling calmly reminiscent of the ticking clock. Such pale umber tones to such a young face don't match with the vibrancy of dark brown hair curling down her shoulders. Those small hands clenched tightly within her mothers as the doctor awaits to speak about the girl. Tears flow even harder down her cheeks, hitting the bed sheet as the solution hits the tube. All of us know where this is leading; the stillness in the air says it for him. The sobbing strengthens, and her mother breaks down uncontrollably, begging for her baby to come back. Deep down, knowing it's not an option, she kisses her hand; she shakily nods and leaves the chair to step out. I stand by the doorway, not wanting to rush such a cruel moment. As she passes me, we lock eyes for a moment, and I move past her into the room while she turns again to watch me walk in.

Taking the mother's seat at the side of her daughter's bed, I notice her bunny fell. Outside, sobs become screams as she can't stand after hearing the news. I place the bunny on her bedside and put her hand to hold onto the thoughts. It would be cruel of me to give her strength handing her mother hope, knowing she won't maintain that. I have her hand and watch as her chest deflates slower; children are the most accepting when it comes to passing on. It hurts, and I can't help but put my head down as her chest no longer pumps. Slowly, I rise and move out of the room as the doctors rush and the monitor's ring throughout what felt like the whole hospital. I find the mother sobbing at the window, calling out again.

"Mommy, I'm here, please turn." the little girl cries behind her mother. In the girls' room, the doctors call for a defibrillator as they pump her chest. I don't want her to watch any of this, but they both deserve one final goodbye.

I walk up to her, place my hand on her head, and introduce myself. "Hey, My name is Grim, and I'm sorry, but she can't hear you right now. She loves you though so much; those tears are because she's missing you a lot and wants you to be okay."

"What's your name, little one?" I ask to get her mind off the noise in her room.

"Autumn," She replies as her voice shakes.

"Your daddy is waiting for you now, Autumn, so give her one last hug and tell her you love her to let her know you're okay," I say while I start to kneel to her.

"I love you, Mommy." Autumn cries as she hugs her mother one final time. Her mother's eyes widen, and she cries harder, hugging herself back, feeling her daughters embrace. I feel sad for them, but they'll be together again, and I'll take her to her daughter, so they never have to be apart. It's time.

I hold my hand out and ask, " Can you take my hand?"I wouldn't want you to get lost." She slowly lets go of her mother and steps towards me, a little hesitant. She's worried about her mom, but I wouldn't want her stuck on this plane, and neither would her mother.

" Be safe with daddy, baby," Her mother cries as she realizes that her daughter is gone.