(A/N) This story is my take on Edith's thoughts during the death of Sybil, since I noticed she was silent and unmoving most of the way through. Please review :)
I see her on the lying on the bed, her hair matted with sweat; I see Tom by her side, his face stained with tears. Mary returns, with my parents behind her. Mama quickly rushes to her side and Mary stays back, a metre away from me. We are both thinking the same 4 words: She doesn't deserve this. Probably the closest we've ever been in space and thoughts, united by our sister.
There is my sister, my younger sister struggling for life, when she is the one who deserves to die a peaceful death when she's old, surrounded by her children and grandchildren. Perhaps I or Mary could deserve this, for we have hated and truly been horrible people. But sweet Sybil, who has only loved; loved this earth, loved her family, her friends, those less fortunate than her; and of course, she has loved Tom. She loves him with all her heart, she loves him so much that she gave away her life and position to be with him. He begs her to stay alive, holding her hand, united by that touch.
Mary stays next to me, but Matthew stands at the end of the bed, holding firmly onto the post. I see them exchange worried glances at each other, but never taking their eyes off Sybil for more than a second. They love each other more than I have ever seen Mary love her whole life, but they watch Sybil too, for she was by far the kindest of us all. I see them exchanging glances, united by their past and their love.
Mama is sobbing, she holds Sybil firmly, begging her to stay. Mama loves Sybil the most out of us sisters, for Sybil deserves more love than anyone I know. I can't bear to see them like this, and it isn't something I ever thought I'd see. As mama holds my sister, I only imagine how painful it must be to have a child, to see them grow and to give them all you have, only for them to be wrenched from you when they are still young. I think about how painful motherhood is, and I see them united by that bond.
The doctors, are stood together. Sir Philip looks at us with pitying eyes, but Dr Clarkson looks hurt and worried. He too, like Mama, saw Sybil grow up, he saw her giving her care to the soldiers in the war. He knows just how selfless and kind she is. These too men stand there, apart in their thoughts, but united by their profession.
I see her lying on the bed, her breath wheezy, her eyes closing. Her skin turns cold; mama and Tom start crying and screaming louder than before. The rest of us are frozen, unable to understand what has happened.
She doesn't deserve this.
"But this can't be. She's 24 years old. This cannot be."
She is gone, united with heaven.