Whipped this up at 2am. It's all dialogue, and I suppose it's directed at Scott. Written in the wake of the worst (read: best) episode of Teen Wolf ever. Might come back around to edit it later, but I think it works as is.

You know in the movies, when they have people on their "deathbeds?" Like, after months and months of hospital stay and the person is actually going to, you know, kick the bucket... And they, they always have this last moment of clarity. Where the dying person looks into the eyes of their loved ones and suddenly there's recognition again and they manage to have one last conversation. I guess it's to resolve plot or something, I don't know. All I know is that it's a load of bullshit. The last lucid moment is way before they end up on their proverbial - or literal - deathbed. You can't even pin it down to a specific point anyways.

Look, all I'm saying is that... people don't get their mind back right before they die. Nobody gets any resolutions. Nobody gets to make amends. There's nothing there.

When my mom died... I was in her hospital room alone. My dad had been there earlier, but he got called away. So, there I was. Seven years old. Having watched my mom's sanity deteriorate for three years. Not quite understanding what was happening. Even though... even though my dad had explained to me that she wasn't getting better, I - I don't know. I thought maybe if I could just get through to her, she might...

I would bring books and read to her. God, I don't even remember which book I was reading. Something stupid and not meaningful to the moment like the books always are in movies.

Anyways, I was sitting there in a chair, reading some dumb book, and constantly looking up at my mom to see if there was any sort of recognition there. There wasn't, of course. I'm sure that by the end there, she didn't even know who I was. But hey, wishful thinking of a second-grader...

Her eyes were kind of... glazed over. Her body was limp. She couldn't do anything. Hadn't even been able to speak to me in a few months. The only reason I knew she'd... she'd gone was the beeping of the heart monitor. It just... stopped, suddenly.

Nurses and doctors rushed in. Your mom pulled me out. I cried in the hallway into her shoulder.

My dad didn't show up for another hour.

There was no resolution there. I didn't get to talk to my mom one last time. I didn't get any sign that she knew who I was or what the hell I was saying. I didn't get to tell her anything meaningful, and she didn't get to impart some sort of dying wisdom to me.

I'm not saying a movie death would have been better. I'd prefer no death if I could choose. But at least, in a movie death, you get one last moment. One last... clear moment...

I didn't get that with my mom. My dad's not going to get that with me. I'm going to be... laying on a hospital bed... eyes glazed over looking at absolutely nothing and god knows if I'll even be aware of anything. And one day...

I can't do this, Scott. I can't, I can't do this. Not to him; not to you. I, I can't.

So I don't know why exactly I wrote this in first person. Like, I cannot express why this happened. 2am self is the worst. But it happened and I felt things, so here you go.