Alone

                The chairs were cold and support less. Just like the nurses that glared at as they walked by. The leather on the armrests were cracked from people grasping on to tight. Roses and morphine filled the air. The smell made me sick, and waiting there wasn’t helping. Through the abyss of people sobbing I could hear the beeps of the heart monitors.  The lights above flickered occasionally with that annoying buzzing. My hands were shaking while I stared at the doors, waiting for the man in blue to walk out and tell me that “Everything was ok”. I couldn’t take it anymore; I got up and headed to a window to get some fresh air. The smell of leaves and rain rushed into my nose, reminding me of the crash. The bitter air riffled through my jacket, reminding me that this was happening. I took one last breath then sauntered back to my seat, it looked just as uninviting as when I had arrived. The doors seemed to mock me, hiding everything behind it.  I looked at the clock over the counter, not knowing how long I had been here. The constant ticking of the clock seemed to calm me down a little. Unsure of how much time passed, the doors opened. A man walked out and looked around the room, and was making his way over. I stood up to go talk to him, but he walked past me and comforted another family that was there. Desperate, I asked him if he knew the condition of my mother. He told me that he “Didn’t know” and left. I sat back down; with each passing minute I felt my world crumble more, more until there was only darkness. I heard the squeak of the door hinges, but I didn’t look or move. I continued to stare at the ground, until I saw a pair of shoes. I bolted up from my seat, and I noticed that there were tears streaming down from my face, I could taste the bitterness of each tear. My knee’s started to shake, for fear of what he would tell me. “Your mother will be fine” He said “she just needs lots of rest. If you want, you can go see her”. My shoulder’s relaxed and I made my way to the room, each footstep echoed as I walked. I stopped before the door, afraid of what I might see. I took a breath and entered the room. There my mother lay still on her bed. She looked as fragile as porcelain. I was so relieved that I couldn’t move a muscle. As I stood there she looked over at me, and slowly she smiled.