Without My Mom Just to say, I have never talked about this with anyone. You may feel sorry for me, since I lost my Mom. I feel sorry for me too, I miss her. A lot. I think about her all the time; her smile, her laugh, her kindness. Everything. She is on my mind constantly, and won't ever leave. I'm writing this, because I want to tell you, what it was like for me to lose her. All I ask; is that you listen and hear me out. It all started, when I got pulled out of class… I was working with my group; I think I was in Social Studies, when the assistant teacher called me over, "Annie, can you come over here for a minute?" "I'll be back in a second, guys." I told them, before walking over to the teachers' desk. As I made my way over to the assistant teacher’s desk, I examined what she looked like from afar. She was young, which was common. She seemed to have a serious look, but she looked sympathetic when she looked at me. What was wrong with her? "Yes, mam?" "Annie, your Grandpa just called. You’re getting sent home early." I was relieved; I didn't like school too much. So, to hear that I was going home early made me happy. Boy, oh boy! Now, I bet I can finish Final Fantasy! But, then it occurred to me that there must be a reason why I am going home early. "Mam?" "Yes, Annie?" "Why am I going home early?" "I don't know, sweetheart. He just said he was coming to pick you up early." I immediately thought she was lying, because there had to be more behind what was going on. But, I said nothing. I collected my things, and started my walk down to the office. Along the way, I thought of reasons why I was leaving. Maybe Mom found out I didn't finish my Math homework, no. She saw my room was still messed up? No, she wouldn't get me out early because of a stupid room. What does she want? My Mom was like my best friend, we were pretty close. I could say we were roommates, but then again, I'm not in college. And, neither is she. Obviously, because she was My Mom. Why would someone settle down when they're in college? Nobody, exactly. I got to the office, and waited in the green chairs. There was silence, except for the ringing phones and whispering of other Teachers that walked in and out. My Grandpa (I called him Papa) walked through the door of the office, and I stood from my seat. "Annie, come on." He said, gesturing me to follow him. But, I stood still and crossed my arms. I was not moving until I found out what was happening. "No, what is going on? Did Nan have an anxiety attack?" "No, it's Mom." Just as the words escaped his mouth, my heart stopped. Literally, stopped
beating. What had happened? Did she pass out? Was she at the hospital again? What was happening? I couldn't count the number of questions that raced through my head at 1,000 miles an hour. "What happened?" I managed to ask, through the amount of fear in what the answer could be. "She's not doing okay, angel." We exited the school and drove on home, the questions raced faster the closer we got to the house. "Where is Dad?" I asked. "He's on his way, angel." "Pup, what's happening?" He didn't answer me; he just looked straight ahead and drove. I didn't dare to ask again, so we drove the rest of the way in silence. As soon as we got to the house, I jumped out of the car. I saw Dad's truck parked in front of Papa's, I raced over to him as he climbed out of the car. "Dad, what is going on? What's happening? How is-" questions tumbled out of my mouth at 1,000 miles an hour. "Bunny, slow down." Dad said calmly, he gave me a hug and I buried my head into his chest. I felt safe, but fear still pumped through my body, making my heartbeat so much faster. “What’s going on? Please, tell me.” I said quietly. He looked down at me, still hugging me, and smiled. This comforted me, my heart rate went down a lot. So, I was no longer a speeding train on my inside. "Come on, let’s go up stairs." Dad said, while pulling out of our hug. I held his hand as we entered the apartment, and climbed the three flights of stairs. As we got up to the top floor where my apartment was, I saw that the front door was open. I walked inside and saw most of my family there. Nana, Papa, My Aunt Cathy, My Uncle Danny and the nurses from the hospital. When they all saw me, they smiled slightly. I greeted them all with hugs, and said my ‘hello’s. One of the nurses, Diane, walked over to me and gave me a warm hug. "Doll, I am so sorry." I didn't hug her back, because she didn't make me feel any better. Because nobody was telling me anything, and it annoyed me so much. Diane pulled away from her hug, and looked at me worryingly. "Are you okay, Doll?" she asked. No, I wanted to say. I'm not okay, why can't you tell me anything? "Where's Mom?" I asked, emotionless. Diane tried to bring me into another hug, but I backed away from her. "Honey," she started, but I cut her off. "What’s going on?" I asked. I was loosing my patience. Silence, complete and utter silence filled the room. And then, it occurred to me that there was the sound of heavy breathing and a machine going. I had no idea where the noise was coming from, until I looked over too the porch. And that's when I saw her… She was sitting on one of the armchairs, with her head tipped back and her eyes were closed. She was wearing a breathing mask; she looked lifeless. A lump formed in my throat, I felt tears nipping at the back of my eyes.
I looked to Diane and Dad who were standing there, looking at me with pity. "What's happening to her?" I asked, my voice trembling. Diane explained that the Caner had infected most of her lung, she could no longer breath and her organs were shutting down. "She is at the point where we can no longer do anything to help her," "So, she is dying?" I asked, my voice still shaking. She nodded her head, with the look of sorrow still plastered on her face. "Yes, she is dying." No. No, no, no, no, no. She couldn't die, she couldn't! She promised me that she would be there for my High School graduation; She promised me She would be there for me whenever I needed her. She can't die, she just can't! Not now… I made my way to the porch, and stood in the doorway. Nana was sitting next to her, crying and holding her hand. When she saw me, she stood up and hugged me. "Oh, My Baby! My Baby!" she sniffled. I pulled away from the hug, and sat down next to Mom. I stared at her lifeless figure, when the only time it moved was when she breathed in air. Why, I thought. Why? Why, God are you doing this? Don't take her away from me. Please, don’t do this to me. Please, don’t take her away! I held her limp hand, and squeezed it. "Mom," I sniffled. She didn't move. "Please, can you hear me?" I asked. Her eyes tried to open, but they struggled. Eventually, they opened slightly. This made my heart jump; she squeezed my hand. "Baby," she said, I smiled. "Hi, Mom." "What you crying about?" She asked, concerned. I felt the tears in my eyes, just waiting to burst. "I don't want to lose you," I choked. She didn't speak; she just looked at me. She took deep breaths in and out, and I stared at her. Waiting for her response, but to never came. I examined her eyes; I loved the color. The sweet mix of brown and green, it soothed me. But this time, it only made the pain worse. Dad came in with Diane and moved her to the bedroom; I followed of course. She lied down on the bed, and I sat next to her. She didn't speak at all, just breathed. She choked on some of the breathes she took, and that's where I got scared. I couldn't hold back my insides any longer, so I cried. “Don’t cry, Baby.” Mom cooed. “Please don’t cry.” I didn’t listen, and I cried louder. I couldn’t cope; I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was cry; my insides were bursting. I had never felt this way before. I don't know how long I was sitting there, but I remember crying for a long time. Eventually, Dad took me over to his house. I didn't go over there too often, so most of the things over there were Disney dolls and little girl stuff. I walked into my room, and smiled. I saw my Woody doll sitting on the bed, I used to love that doll. I picked it up, and stared. I pulled the string on the dolls back, and listened to the western accent: "Howdy there, partner!"
I pulled the string again: "My names' Woody!" I pulled it again: "Your my favorite Deputy!" I smiled, I remember that I used to pull the string all day and just listen to him say those words. I remember playing with him in the backyard and sitting down at the table while eating and pretending he was a family member. Memories‌ I played with my old Wii and this Scooby Doo game, since Dad didn't really let me play any mature games. I almost finished the game, when I heard the phone ring. I paused the Game and listened to Dad answer the phone. "Hello?" He answered. Silence. "You were there?" Silence. "I'm sorry," Silence. "Yes, I will tell her." I knew what he meant, and I couldn't grasp that. No. I heard Dad knock on my door. "Come in," I called. He opened the door slowly, and shut it behind him. "Hi, Bunny." "Hi, Daddy." Silence. "So," he said, looking me straight in the eye. He sat down on the bed next to me. "I got a call from Yiaya." I knew what he was going to say, and really, I didn't want him to say it. But the words slipped out of his mouth before I could say anything. "Mom died half an hour ago," The words stabbed my heart, like a dagger. I wanted to cry, again. I wanted to cry, kick and scream so loud that I could lose my voice. But, I didn't. I stayed calm. "I'm sorry, bunny." "It's okay, Dad." He wrapped his arms around me, and gave me a hug. I hugged him back and buried my face in his chest again, and inhaled the scent of Tide. It comforted be, but I didn't sooth the pain that had been injected inside of me. She was gone, Mom was gone. She's dead. Dead and gone. Forever. I don't know how many long I cried that night, I remember calling my friends and telling them. I called Ian, because he was like a brother to me. I cried my eyes out as I told him what had happened. He almost cried as well. “I am so sorry, Annie.â€? He says, and I cry even louder. I called the rest of my close friends. They comforted me, of course. I love them for that, for being there for me. I guess that was how I survived, my friends. They were there for me, and they helped me heal. I couldn't thank them enough; I don't even know if I have even thanked them enough still. To tell the truth, I'm still not over it. I still miss her, sometimes I cry about it. But, I am also stronger. I know I will never be able to get one of her award winning hugs or pecks on the cheek. But, she will always be in my heart. Forever and Always.