"She's dying."

My blood froze the moment I heard the nurse saying this. For a while my head began to spin and my hands trembled. I could not believe this is happening. Next to me, my sister slumped on to the bench and began to sob.

I tried not to look at her, nor would I listen to the sobbing. I know she was as distressed as I am. But that's the difference between Aslynn and me. I don't want to fall to my knees and cry buckets, even though my legs felt like they have turned to jelly. I turned to my father, Jason. He had walked away from my side and was staring out of the window. There was no threat of any tears from him, nor was his body trembling with sorrow, but I know he is grieving for the woman lying on the other side of the wall. She was the love of his life, and the mother of his children.

I thanked the nurse in front of me, whose eyes were filled with pity at the upcoming loss of our family. After she walked away, I turned to my sister. I know that I need to be strong for us both. I placed a gentle hand on Aslynn's shoulder, feeling it going up and down beneath my palm. "Aslynn", I called softly.

Aslynn lifted her face from her palms to look at me. Her eyes were red and swollen. I don't know how much she had cried since our mother was admitted into the hospital for cancer. "We're losing her, aren't we Rhindon?" she asked amid her sobs. "We are losing Mother…" with that she began to cry again.

"Hush, Aslynn", I said to her. "We don't need to cry about it now. Father needs us to be strong." I nodded towards Father's direction. He had not moved from the window. "I don't know if we are losing her. Perhaps- just perhaps- she would make it. She's always been a strong woman", I continued, trying to inject some hope into my sister. "But the best thing we could do now is make the most of our time with Mother. Make her happy everyday. That's our job."

Aslynn rubbed her eyes. I watched her with pity. Aslynn had always been close to Mother. She practically followed her everywhere she went as a child, and even when she had grown up and left to further her studies, Aslynn remained close to home. Now, at 25, she lives at home, although I had left to get myself an apartment of my own. Giving her a pat on the shoulder, I left her and went through the door that belonged to Mother's ward.

Mother was sleeping when I walked into the room. There were tubes everywhere around her, and I could tell from a tiny crease near her eyes that she was in pain. It must be from the dozen of pills and liquid medicine she needed to take everyday. Countless times, Mother had asked me and Aslynn to take her home. But we won't let her. We wanted to cling to every shard of hope that our beloved Mother would survive this illness somehow.

I stared at Mother's face. She had been a beautiful woman once, when I was young enough to sit on her knees and fall asleep on her shoulder. But years and medication had taken away almost half of her beauty. Her once raven-coloured hair was now white as snow. Her face was wrinkled and creased, and even the smooth creamy colour of her skin was almost fading away. I bit back my tears, trying to be strong. But hell, this is my mother dying. How can a man be strong?

I sat next to Mother, my eyes never leaving her. I touched her wrinkled hand and held them in mine. Once upon a time those hands had held mine while I was on my way to school. Those were also the same hands that had stroked my hair when I was too afraid to go to sleep after a thunderstorm. Those hands had cooked for me and Aslynn, and had cared for us all our lives. I could not take it anymore. Holding back my sob, I lay my head on Mother's bed, as close as I could without waking her.

Wrong move. I felt the hand slipping away from my grasp to stroke my head. I looked up. Mother's blue eyes were looking at me. They were weak, it's true, but the tenderness were there. Her lips formed a wan smile. "Rhindon", she called my name.

I stroked her arm. "They-they said you're going to be- just fine", I said softly, trying to smile. I know she could tell that I'm lying, but I don't care. Apart from Aslynn and Mother, I need to assure myself.

"Rhindon, don't lie", said Mother. "It's my body you're talking about. I know how bad it is.

"Besides", she continued with a smile. "It's not really something bad, dying."

I stared at my mother. It's not the first time we have ever talked openly about death. Over the years it had been a topic frequently discussed by us, especially when she started getting old. Sometimes we discussed it to the point which it infuriates me. Mother never seemed to be afraid of dying. Whenever we started speaking of it, she would smile happily, as though dying is a fond memory she used to have. What's more, since she was diagnosed with cancer, it was almost like she couldn't wait to die.

"Death is but another great adventure", she used to tell me.

I know where that line comes from. But that's beside the point. I'm always freaked out by the thought of my family dying. We don't have any other relative. My paternal grandparents died when I was a teenager and Father was their only child. Mother never spoke about what becomes of her family, although she did mention that they were dead a long time ago. Because of our lack of relation, our family was close-knit as anything. I don't know anyone else I could trust except Mother, Father and Aslynn. I wouldn't know what to do if I lost one of them.

And yet, here I am with Mother, and she speaks of death with almost joy in her voice. As though leaving her family is nothing to her. She would rather die than stay with us. It hurts sometimes, and it hurts now. Mother must have seen it in my face, because she reached to pat my face.

"Some day you will understand, child. You are young, you don't know. But trust me someday you will."

They were the words Mother would tell me over and over again throughout the years. I decided not to argue, given her condition. Instead I smiled at her, just as the door behind us opened and Father and Aslynn walked inside. Aslynn was still sniffling, but Father was more together than I had ever seen him in years. At that moment I felt a quiet pride for my father, who managed to keep a strong face while in the middle of such a trying time. Aslynn rushed towards Mother and hugged her tightly.

"Rhindon, take Aslynn home now", Father said to me. "It's late, and your mother needs rest."

I understand that Father wanted to be alone with Mother. And they should be. After nearly twenty-eight years of marriage, they need to speak to each other now. Mother nodded, and I patted Aslynn's back, signaling her to come along. Together we headed for the door.

"Rhindon."

I spun back to face Mother at the sound of my name. The look on her face told me he wanted me to do something.

"When you get home, go up to the attic. There's an iron box which I put in one of the trunks. Can you bring that to me?"

Both Aslynn and I felt like Mother was writing her will in front of us. Before either of us broke down, I choked out, "Yes", and pushed Aslynn out of the door.