Nightwolf

I scream and I cry and it turns into a wail, a raw primal cry of utter sorrow that’s ripped from the depths of me, clawing its way out of my throat, filling the room. I wail and wail and it echoes and I’m just hanging now, hands clutched over Wolf’s arms as he holds me up, my hair hanging down, tears mixing with the strands.

No, no, no, please no. God no, please save her, save her. I can’t lose her, I love her, I can’t live without my mom, she’s my only world, she’s all I have, please save her, bring her back to life, I’ll do everything, anything. PLEASE!

I don’t know how long I pray and cry and exist in this state of grief where my soul feels lost and torn and forever altered.

“I didn’t know that was it, I didn’t know that would be the last time,” I say through a broken sob.

“It’s okay,” Wolf says, his voice breaking too. “I didn’t either.”

“Amethyst,” a voice says. Something soft and gentle but firm.

I raise my head, blood pounding against my skull, and stare dully through the hair in my face. Dr. Seldrik.

“Amethyst,” the doctor says again. “Would you like to see your mother? You can have your goodbyes now.”

I shake my head, not understanding.

This is a dream, right?

A nightmare?

Mara.

The doctor gives me a sympathetic smile. “I’m so sorry Amethyst. She didn’t make it.”

“But she was fine a moment ago,” Wolf says adamantly. “She looked at me. She looked at Amethyst. She was there, she saw us. It was her, it was her normal brain, she knew who we were.”

“Maybe she used up all her strength to do just that,” the doctor says. “To let you know she knew you were there for her at the end.”

“But how can this…”

“Her body gave up. The heart gave out. There are only so many heart beats given to all of us. Eventually they run out.”

I almost laugh because she doesn’t realize she’s talking to a vampire, who has an eternity of heart beats. I want to laugh in her fucking face. I want to just go fucking mad with delirium so I don’t have to face any of this.

Because I can’t, I can’t.

She can’t be gone.

My mother she just can’t be.

Not after all of this.

Somehow, though, the doctor ushers Wolf and I over to my mother’s bed and now I’m staring down at her.

The vent has been removed.

Nurses have pushed the machines out of the way.

She’s not connected to any machines anymore.

And she’s not breathing.

And her heart isn’t beating.

I stare.

I’ve gotten used to her head being bandaged, though they’ve gotten fewer over the course of her stay here, but now, without the vent and the tubes and IVs, she looks like herself again. Just smaller, thinner. Paler. But it’s her.

And she’s beautiful. She’s so beautiful. I don’t know when I last told her that. I should have told her that more. I should have told her she was beautiful and I loved her more.

“Mom,” I whisper. I take her hand in mine while Wolf goes to the other side of the bed and takes her other hand in his. “I don’t know if you’re still around, maybe floating above the room. But on the chance you can still hear me, that you’re still with me, I just want to say…”

I close my eyes and try to breathe, my heart being shattered over and over again until there’s just so much pain.

And so much love.

I have so much love left to give.

“I just want to say, too many things,” I say, trying to find the right words. “Uh, just…there’s too much to say. But I love you. That’s the biggest one. I love you. And I never told you how proud I was to be your daughter and I’m so sorry I never told you that. Because I was. I am. That won’t change. I’m so proud of you, how you raised me, how you kept our heads above water and I’m…I’m so sorry you never found the love that you were looking for. You know. You deserved…I always thought one day you would meet someone who truly made you feel loved and you didn’t get the chance. So I, I hope I was able to make you feel loved. Because I love you more than words can say. And I can’t believe I have to say goodbye to you now, I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. This isn’t fair.”

I break off, sobbing, the wave of grief and shock hitting me like a tsunami and I have to grip the edge of the hospital bed to keep from keeling over.

While I cry, shaking from the inside out, Wolf leans forward and kisses my mother on the cheek. A gesture so gentle, it ruins me even further.