My father, or whatever you would call an adopted parent, still succeeds in his acts of selfishness toward the little that is left of his supposedly cheery family. Harsh, I know, I can't help it. It just seems my dad tends to ignore whatever goes on in my life unless he knows he can't. Like now. Ellie's dying, she's right in the room in front of me. My Dad can't erase that, he can't push past it. But…me, how am I supposed to face a person that I pushed away? What does my dad expect me to say to her? What CAN I say to her? How? What? Why? It's so much easier when you have all the answers. If only I knew her, then I wouldn't feel so weird about grieving. Obviously you're going to grieve over the loss of a loved one, it's expected. But how do you grieve over your own mother that up to a few mere months ago, you didn't even know existed?

"Peyton…Peyton…" Lucas whispered, caressing my back as he continued to repeat my name, knocking me from my own thoughts. I slowly turn my head toward him, not knowing a few single tears had slipped from my eyes. "It's time…" he soothed, wiping my current tears as my eyes filled with new ones. I nodded slightly in response, my feet beginning to move from the waiting room chair while my mind remained behind.

I could feel eyes burning through my skin. Brooke's, Haley's, Lucas', my dad's; who had just come from Ellie's room himself. I could only imagine what they were all thinking; that I was losing a second mother. The sympathetic eyes that don't help for no matter how hard people try.

I felt Lucas' hands grip my shoulders from behind me. Instinctively, I had stopped right in front of the door to Ellie's room. The dark, yellow tiled trauma-room which would soon hold the corpse of my birth mother. The Christmas lights the hospital lined the crease where the ceiling and tiled walls met; as if Christmas cheer would make the loss easier by reminding you that your loved one died only days before Christmas. Way to spread the cheer. Maybe we should start decorating cemeteries too.

"I'll be right here okay?" Lucas said directly, gazing directly into my glassy eyes. I nodded as I turned back toward the room, for the first time actually noticing the person in it, not what the room looked like. It was my mom, my mom. Was that what I was supposed to call a person who was never there? A mom that came with an expiration date? Low, yeah, I know, but then again, I call my dad, my dad when he hasn't been there either. Her blonde hair was now gone, affects of the chemotherapy which she had gone through once it was too late to help. A tube slicing through her arm, supplying her with the necessary fluids. Her once healthy, tanned skin, now pale and sickly.

"I can't do this," I choked, turning my back toward the door, trying to leave. I felt Lucas' hand grab my arm, flinging me back toward him. "Lucas let me go!" I cried, tears now pouring from my eyes. I didn't mean to hurt him as my fists pounded against his chest. I couldn't do this, I wasn't strong enough. It wasn't supposed to be this hard; it wasn't supposed to be this complicated. I didn't know my own mother; I didn't know the person in that room who was dying in front of my face. I couldn't watch her die, I wouldn't. "Please…" Begging, my fists finally tiring out once I realized he wasn't giving in.

I placed my head in my hands, collapsing into his chest as his grip strengthened around my quivering body. I cried, he held me, letting everyone around us become non-existent. Nothing else mattered. "Peyton, I'll be right out here okay? I'm not going anywhere…" he kissed the side of my head, soothing whispers into my ear for only me to hear. "You have to do this, you have to say goodbye. You'll never forgive yourself if you don't…" His voice became more direct, stronger and louder than the quiet whisper. I still didn't budge, silent cries still escaping my mouth. I felt his hands grab my shoulders again, squaring them so I would face him. His hand cradled my chin, lifting it up to see my eyes. "This is it Peyt, this is your last chance to make it right…" His eyes were glowing against the light, serious, direct. "Don't run away from this…I'll be right here afterwards, count on it." My eyes closed, holding tears in as I bit my bottom lip slightly.

He slowly pushed the trauma-room door open with one hand, while the other guided me into the room. "I'll be right here…" he whispered one last time, kissing my forehead reassuringly before shutting the door behind me.

My body seemed to drag itself across the room to the chair the nurse had left next to the bed. She was changing Ellie's IV at the time, throwing away the empty plastic bag, smiling at me with that same look as everyone else before leaving me alone in the room. I took a seat in the chair and looked over at my mother, her eyes closed as I watched her chest heave up and down to the beat of the machine next to her.

Beep…Beep…

Monotone, the only sound heard, circling the room as it surrounded me. "Hey…" I finally whispered, hoping she'd hear me. I didn't want to repeat anything, it was hard enough as it was. Thankfully, I saw her eyes flutter open.

"Peyton…" she breathed out hoarsely. It was obvious that she was having trouble speaking. My head eyed the ground on impulse, hearing her voice. My eyes shut again, scared of letting tears fall in front of her.

Please don't cry, not here…not in front of her

"How're you doing?" I choked out, coughing to hide the pain in my voice. Stupid question, but it was all I could think of to say. She saw through my act, I knew she did. She'd be blind not to.

"It's okay to cry Peyton."

Her voice was enough to kill me. Screw the fact that she was dying, she already sounded dead as it was. What now? There isn't anything to be said that can't be done without tears. "I know it's okay," I lied, agreeing to what she said. It wasn't okay, she just didn't have to know it.

"Don't hold yourself up over this, Peyton. I know you have every reason imaginable to hate me, and I know how awkward this must be for you. But don't think for a second that there was a night where I didn't lie awake, thinking about you. Don't think that I didn't want to be a part of your life because I did, you're my daughter. I just couldn't, and I really hope you understand that. But overall, over everything, don't think that I didn't love you." She spoke merely in a whisper, taking occasional breaks between words. Tears slipped down my face as I looked down at the ground, quiet sobs escaping my lips. "I don't want you to drop your life just because of my death. God knows you have every right to, but don't. You have too much more to live for, and don't blow it grieving over incidents you had no control over. You didn't tell me to put you up for adoption, you didn't tell your mother to die in a car accident, you didn't tell me to come back into your life and soon admit I have cancer. Don't let the unexplainable control your life…"

I noticed her heart rate begin to beat faster, the sound of the machine becoming more constant. I lifted my tear-stained face from the ground, seeing that Ellie too was now crying. "Don't be scared, Peyton," even though even I could tell Ellie herself was now scared as well. She and I both knew what was coming.

"I love you, mom…" I choked out as tears poured down my face. I grabbed her hand, squeezing it in reassurance as I continued watching my mother die. I saw single tears drop from her eyes before they slowly began shutting. This was it, my mind spinning, crying more so than before. I didn't know what to do. It wasn't fair, I wasn't ready now, it was too soon. "Nurse!" I finally screamed out, watching her walk by. She immediately came through the doors, and I saw Lucas stand up from a chair in the waiting room behind her. He knew what was happening, everyone knew. It was just me who wasn't willing to let go, not now. My dad followed the nurse inside, gently pushing past Lucas.

"Honey, it's time…" he soothed, trying to pull me away from Ellie.

"No! No!" I screamed, sobbing like a kid in a toy store. My grasp never left Ellie's as my dad finally gave in. My mind was circling, not even hearing the monitor flatline.

"Time of death…22:35," the nurse whispered gently.

My throat was on fire. I couldn't cry, I couldn't speak. I was just talking with her. I gently dropped Ellie's hand as I began standing up. I wanted to run, I couldn't stay there. I forcefully pushed through the doors and ran straight into Lucas who was standing there waiting, like he promised.

"She's-sh-she's gone…" I stammered, wanting to scream, wanting to die. Lucas' arms tightly embraced me, holding me until I couldn't stand. Falling to the ground with me as he pulled me closer to him, in the middle of the hospital hallway.

"But I'm not."