Isa sat beside her daughter as she stroked her forehead, and she stared at her with a hope that was nearly impossible. But Isa was in denial, and she wouldn’t dare believe that Sophia was going to die. She was still breathing, but they said she would possibly never wake up. There wasn’t really a chance in the world. Isa watched her, and she was completely helpless. All she could do was watch on, and witness her daughter’s health deteriorate.
Florence had to endure watching so many people in her life die and she just couldn’t bring herself to watch her daughter struggle. So she stayed outside of the room and drowned in her sorrow. She felt idle to the whole situation, and she was itching to just walk in there and make Sophia wake up. Just beg her to wake up, but she knew that it would never happen that way. And that there was nothing to do, not even nature would run it’s course and have her wake up in the end. It was all over.
Isa soon realized that there was no possible way Sophia was going to survive. And she knew that eventually she’d have to cope with that. Isa felt the tears sting at her eyes, and she slid into the bed beside her daughter. They were both so petite that they both could easily fit. She caressed Sophia’s face, and traced every feature. And every physicality stored itself in her fingertips, and she continued to trace so her mind could remember every shape and everything she felt, just so she would never forget. Isa watched her daughter’s chest as it slowly rose up then down, and something inside her told her this was it. She looked at her gorgeous daughter, and she held her close.
“I love you Sophia, and I know sometimes you doubted that. But I do. More than you could possibly ever imagine. You are all I ever wished for, all I ever wanted. And I don’t exactly know what I am going to do without you,” she whispered with a prominent shake in her voice. Isa felt her own life slowly losing it’s sheer meaning. What was she supposed to do without Sophia? What was she to become?
Isa felt her tears begin to dribble down her cheeks, and they drenched the sheets. Her weeping became uncontrollable. She didn’t want to let go, she didn’t want this to be the end. But she knew Sophia was suffering, and that was the last thing Isa wished for her child. And so she embraced the goodbye meekly.
“I know you can hear me, baby. I know you can,” she softly spoke. “You can let go,” Isa weakly mustered into her ear, and the words seemed to echo through Isa’s ears. She couldn’t actually believe she said it, she couldn’t believe that she actually condoned it. “I will be right here. I promise.” Isabella was trembling; she was terrified. She didn’t want it to happen. Not in the slightest. She continued to stroke Sophia’s face, and she lightly kissed her temple. It was as if she was trying to soothe her, though she knew she couldn’t feel anything. It was a habit; a maternal instinct per se. Soon Sophia’s breathing became slower, yet heavier. And Isa could feel her own heart beating, and she felt her body just hollow. And everything inside her began to wring. She clenched her eyes shut, and began to sit up. The rhythmic beeping that was once coming from the machines in the room began to slowly plummet in speed, and would only sound sporadically. Isa’s state of denial had risen, and she just slowly shook her head. Sophia took in one last, long breath and everything was over. She was dead. Isa felt everything inside of her shatter, and the pain she felt came in a powerful gust that knocked all the wind out of her. Her chin furiously trembled and she began to ululate, and her grief came in a sheer, humongous load. She leaned down and kissed Sophia’s cheek, and pressed her own cheek to hers. “I love you,” she cried repeatedly. “Oh Sophia, my sweetheart. Goodbye. I will see you again, I know I will. Soon, baby. Very soon.”
And she reiterated her goodbye once more. She leaned down, and cradled Sophia’s head close to her chest. And gave her one more kiss, then whispered one last thing in her ear. And she finally got off the bed. A strong sense of numbness attacked her body, and she shook her head in disbelief. She had watched her child come into the world, but never did she imagine she’d have to watch her leave it. She was supposed to go first, and it was her plan. It was her plan to watch Sophia grow up, graduate school, marry if she pleased and maybe even have children. But all she wanted was to watch Sophia grow, and never did she imagine that it would be halted when she was only 16. A mere 16. How could this be? How could she live without Sophia? There was no possible way she would be able to live on. Isa left the room once everything was too eerie to handle. She slowly walked to Florence who was sitting at the end of the hall. Florence looked up and saw Isa miserably make her way to her. And once she saw the tears begin to start she began to rise. And Isa looked like she was going to just lose all physical stability. Florence hurried over to Isa who just fell into her. Florence helped her up, and she had just lost it emotionally.
“She’s gone,” Isa wept. And Florence began to sob as well, she felt this extreme weight just fall onto her shoulders.
“Where are the twins?” Isa questioned softly. She had a sudden and desperate urge to see Finn and Amelia.
“At Mum’s,” Florence muttered. And Isa jerked herself from Flo’s grasp and made her way to the door, leaving Florence. And Flo let her go, knowing she needed her time.
Isa got into the car and sped off into the night. And she screamed and lamented as she drove. There was no one there to stifle her, and she could do as she pleased. She smashed her fists to the steering wheel, and cried out for Sophia .She felt angry at humanity and her existence, because it had to have been someone’s fault. And there was someone. It was the driver the who crashed into the passenger side of the vehicle Sophia was riding in. He was at fault, he would have to live with the fact that he had killed an innocent, smart and beautiful sixteen year old girl. A girl that was adored and loved by so many people.
Isa pulled up in front of Evelyn’s home. Grace was the first to notice the headlights and she hurried out, and the twins followed. They had a sense of gloom parading over them. Evelyn had explained everything. Isa fell to her knees in front of Amelia and Finn, and looked up at them with regret. They gazed down at her with concern. Isa pulled them into her abruptly, and cupped the back of their heads, then nuzzled into them. She felt a sudden comfort having her children in her arms. Being the smart girl she was, Amelia knew, she was intuitive and felt it. She knew her sister was gone. But Finn was oblivious to it all.
“Where’s Sophia?” he asked, expecting her to come out of the car. Just hearing her name made Isa break down again.
“She went away, Finn,” she croaked.
“Is she coming back?” he softly asked, hoping to hear a yes. But Isa shook her head.
“No,” she simply replied.
“Where did she go?”
She parted from the twins and looked up at the night sky and pointed at the big, bright star in the sky.
“She’s right there. She’s the star.”