Warning: Character Death
The Isolation of Stale Ribbons
It was a bright Saturday morning, but according to the giant clock that towered between the hospital and the parking lot it was almost noon. The sun beamed with all its might, the heat made my head throb. I watched my twin sister eagerly wave her arms at me to move faster. I smiled back up at her, then jogging to keep up. My sister, Amelia has the most contagious smile; it would make the saddest person in the world beam with happiness. Today is exciting for her. She desperately wanted to our see our Papa so dearly and could not wait to tell him she made the volleyball team. There is one person missing though. Our dad was nowhere to be seen, assuming he is in the restroom we left knowing he will find us later.
Feeling the rush of cool air as we entered the building was refreshing. Another hall lead to the waiting room. I spoke to the elderly woman behind the desk. Her gloomy voice directed me where my papa was at. I took my sister's arm. The hall was surprisingly empty. No nurses, or doctors, just two wheel chairs lingering, and a water fountain. The slapping of my sister's old converse echoed the white hall. The smell of sour vomit and stale urine were embedded thickly in the air, I could feel it brushing against my face.
"Madeliiine" Amelia sung as she leapt in front of a smooth grey door, she pointed at the door with the words 'Isolation Room 3' painted in black letters. "Here it is!"
Amelia being the first to enter, she had the biggest smile, skipping into the room, with "Hey Poppy!" A nurse walked by, she smiled and said that we have thirty minutes. The room was bright, with a large window with a perfect view of the town with the mountain in the background. I couldn't see past the baby blue curtain where the bed lay. I could hear beeping. My stomach twisted as Amelia pulled the curtain. I quickly ran out. A tiny wooden stool sat across from the room. I could hear my heart race, my hands were shaking, and butterflies tickled in my abdomen. There was lump in my throat.
I did not want to see my papa at the moment. I do not think I could endure looking at him. His sparkling smile now would probably be weighed down and hurting, it would be unbearable. I did not want to see him hooked up to beeping machines, telling me that this-is-how-much-time-he-has. Not wanting to see him so weak, being very fragile while on a large hospital bed. I did not want to look into those sea blue eyes filled with a miserable look.
He was crying. It was four a.m. I was not sure if he was in pain or if he was just pitying himself.
"Papa, are you in pain? Do you need me to get you something?" I would ask tiredly.
"Non. Non." Shaking his head, thick tears would stream down his cheek bones and drip off the stubble on his chin. "I just need someone else to take care of me." He whimper, "I wish my brother were here to take care of me."
It hurt so much to know that my papa did not want my help. Was my late night counseling not enough? Somehow my dream to become a nurse has been shattered. Maybe it was from the experience I went through with my papa or maybe I always admire string instruments. Either way, I'll never become a nurse.
After fifteen minutes of staring at my feet the door opened. Amelia was suddenly standing next to me. She had a smile but it was obvious it was forced smile "He wants to see you now" She mumbled through her puffy pink eyes.
Taking a deep agonizing breath I slowly turned the door handle. The room was covered in white with a tiny lamp illuminating the room a dim hue. It was very, very warm inside. My hands were sweaty; there was an ache in my chest, the lump in my throat made me want to vomit. The curtains were again veiling the bed. Closer, pushing pass the curtains. There he was. Papa on his starchy white bed. My knees grew weak. My knees buckled once I reached the recliner chair. "It's a beautiful day Papa"
He smiled weakly. The smile was hard to look at. I'm not sure if I smiled or not.
Silence separated us from the world. The only sound was the heart monitor and the pump that gives papa breath. The monitor's indistinct beeping was starting to scare me. I expected to see him like this, so weakened, so many , and to see machines beeping above him. I began to stutter out so many words. I told him about everything that has been going on for the past few months. I told him about the football games Amelia and I went to, about the boy I started dating, and on a winning streak with hockey. Papa's eyes were dull but pouring tears.
His hand was puffy from all the medication and I.V's; I began to rub his swollen hand. His skin felt like ice, I feared that if I rubbed his hand any longer his skin would tear. I continued talking though. After the final minutes were up a nurse came in. "It's time hun." She closed the door.
I put my papa's hand down, and laced my favorite red ribbon with a rose stitching in his blonde hair into a perfect bow. "I'll see you tomorrow Papa" I smiled into his lifeless eyes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia