Chapter 9: Death in the Family
"Mary Jane Watson?" the orderly asked.
"Yes?"
"Your aunt's in critical condition. Frankly, I don't think she'll last the night."
"Let me see her."
"I'll go with Miss Watson."
"Mister Parker-"
"I'm going with Mary Jane."
"Very well."
A few minutes later, the two entered Aunt Anna's room.
"Mary Janeā¦did you and Peter win?"
"Yes, Miss Watson. We won." Peter answered.
"That's my girl. Peter, take care of Mary Jane for me. It looks like the roll's been called up yonder for me."
"Miss Watson, you can't-"
"In the words of the great William Shakespeare, life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Suddenly, a beeping noise was heard. A quick glance at the monitors yielded a flat line. Anna Watson was no more.
"No."
"MJ, I'm sorry-"
"No! She can't be! She can't be!"
Peter stood there, tears dripping from his eyes, as Mary Jane bawled into his shoulder.
