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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Family · #863052
Mother... I promise..... Don't go....

The day was growing thin. A gental moon was peeking through the suns dying rays with a shimmering haze. But the moon gave no relief to Cieran. For though it peered through the window, it shone on the face of his mother. She was paler than before in the light and her shining blue eyes, ringed with heavy dark circles made her seem almost a ghost. Her cracked lips opened slowly,
“Do not mourn me forever Cieran.” she croaked, “Forgive him and when you are grown help those like us. Help them for me Cieran and promise you won't become like your father.”
“I promise mum. I promise.” Silvery tears slipped down his cheeks as he whispered those words, “Mum....”
He lingered over the word hopelessly.
“I’ll be right there with you. Everywhere you go. At every step. I’ll be right there with you.” She sighed a long breathy sigh.
The beeping on her monitor slowed and then stopped. So had he. Her hand was still in his own. Its grip lost hold and slid away with her life. He screamed as he realised what was happening. She was leaving him. Three of the people looking after her ran into the room. He felt his hand being taken and someone tried to lead him from the room. Distantly he realised that he was still screaming. A woman had brought out something and shouted,
“Charge!” Over his scream. Two things were placed on her chest. She sprung up on the word, “Clear!” “AND again!”
“MUM!!!” He screamed. The person had stopped tugging him. His mother’s face had gone grey underneath the bruises. Her lips blue. How long had this been going on. The tears had stopped falling, a panic came over him. His breathing quickened.
The sun died on the horizon.
“It’s been three minutes.” said a voice.
A sigh came from another voice, “Let’s stop. Time of death December 15. 17:10.”
“NO!!!” Cieran screamed and faces turned to look at a ten year old boy with tears once again streaming and eyes filled with a mixture of horror and dread, “No.” he repeated much quieter. His legs felt like jelly but he could no longer stay in that room. He span and ran through people and patients. Not accepting what had happened. He had watched his mother die and he had done nothing.

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