A/N: I re-edited this chapter because in my opinion, it killed the story. I agree with you, winterwarrior, it needed more description desperately. I was lazy on this chapter. Personally, I found all of Papa's lines cheesy, and now, in my opinion, their even worse. This re-edited version will either be better or it'll be worse. I'm hoping for a positive reaction. :)

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held

His lips were charcoal black and decayed. His scarred skin was discolored orange and red which let off a putrid scent, burnt flesh. He had no nose. His once wavy, black hair was now raspy and gray. As he slept, an inhuman, disturbing wheezing came from what was left of his mouth. The wheezing suddenly stopped and he opened his eyes. They were colored black and lifeless, much like coal.

Andrea shifted, obviously uncomfortable, on the white padded chair next to her father's bed. In a disturbed manner, her eyes darted from the soapy white curtains to the snow white tiles that lay beneath her and her father. At the moment, Andrea considered herself a horrible person. Her eyes refused to meet her father's, and she felt the position she was in extremely uncomfortable. Oh boy, she knew she was going to Hell. She shouldn't feel this uncomfortable, should she? A normal daughter would look at her father with compassionate, concerned, and loving eyes, not disturbed and scared ones.

Then again, as she grew up, her father never was the hugging teddy bear type. He thought of Princess as a demeaning term towards his daughter. She was never expected to cry over physical pain. In her father's eyes, she could only cry from emotional pain. While she was a child, he usually worked 7 days a week in Columbus, Ohio, so she rarely had any father-daughter moments.

She had grown up admiring her mother, not her father. For as long as she could remember, her mother was like a feminine version of her father. She always got the work done with fewer things broken than her father ever had. Forget repairmen. Her mother would have those cabinets or the dishwasher fixed within a day contrary to the custom 5 days. Andrea sat there, thinking, remembering. Memories of her mother filled her mind, as well as the family ones, when her family was whole.

"Andrea," his voice choked out. It was dry and raspy and seemed to mimic the wind. He lay underneath the green cover on his hard, hospital bed. The green cover had intricate designs around its edges. To Andrea, it was one of the most hideous designs she'd ever laid her eyes upon.

"Y-Yes sir?" Andrea mentally scolded herself for sounding so frightened, so helpless. When her father's eyes saddened, Andrea could feel her eyes beginning to water.

"You listen here, and you listen good," He paused to cough and continued," I've cheated death many times."

"No, Papa, go back to sleep."

His voice turned into an even more guttural wheezing, "Don't interrupt me, girl."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Now, hear me out, girl, I know loud and clear that it's my time."

Andrea shook her head sideways, her ponytail swaying from side to side.

"No, Papa, you're being delusional. You should really get more sleep."

His scarred lips turned into a small smile, "I know you care for me, Andrea, I really do, but you're being delusional."

Papa's delicate eyelids began to slowly flutter open and closed. His heart rate monitor slowed down with his eyes.

"Papa, Look at me, please! Papa…papa."

The heart rate monitor went flat.

Glaring, she sat and looked up.

"God, why do you insist on tormenting me? Where do I go now? My whole family is gone! My relatives are either on the other side of the country or in Canada! I have no money! I have nothing but the clothes on my back and my car!"

A nurse clad in a white uniform with the trademark pencil-behind-the-ear and hair woven into a bun opened the door.

"Oh my, Miss, you must go now. The visiting hours are long past over."

Andrea rotated her head and stated in a weak tone, "Just five more minutes."

The nurse just gave her an approving nod and walked out. Andrea stood up and raised her hand to her father's head. She stroked what was left of his hair and whispered, "Tell mom I love her, and tell Christopher to wait for me. Watch over me, Pa."

With that, Andrea left the hospital.

Re-edited! How was it? Same concept, different word choice.