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I have to physically force myself back into Moonsie's room where everyone's is waiting for me. On the outside I appear to be calm, but that couldn't even begin to describe the raging turmoil inside me right now. I wish I could sort it out myself.

Today is the day. The day I manually and consciously cut the thread binding my mother to life.

Her room reeks of death already as I step into it, observing the stony faces of the people waiting.

It's silent, other than the sound of the life support machine I will soon be unplugging. At one point, it seemed like the machine was my life line even more than Moonsie's, but now the sound is unbearable.

Will is waiting next to the life support machine by her side, a deeply sad frown stationed on his face. I don't match the expression, mine is blank. I walk to her other side stiffly, and I can't find it within myself to even look down at the woman posing as my mother. That isn't her, not even close. My mother, the real her, is trapped in the body of a cancer-riddled sickly old lady.

My mother was vibrant, energetic, quirky and bright, words that couldn't possibly fit the version of her   lying near me.

"Junior." Will says quietly, looking at me. "Everyone's ready to begin to process, so... when you're ready..." I nod once, slightly.

"Well, legally, you have to give verbal consent, and since you're a doctor..." He wants me to physically unplug the machine, manually being the one to end her life. I don't know how I feel about that, or if I have any feelings left at all.

I walk over to the machine, my legs seeming to weigh 100 pounds each. "That switch there... will um... turn off the machine." He murmurs, pointing to a little red switch on the side of the machine.

I hope everyone's said their final goodbyes, because there's no stopping now. I spot Michael in the corner of the room, looking rather grim. He gives me a reassuring nod, I only tighten my lips back.

"Whenever you're ready-" The sound of the switch flipping and the machine powering down cuts him off. He clears his throat to hide his surprise, running his tongue over his lips quickly.

"I'll just remove her oxygen..." He sets the clear tubes to the side, straightening up quickly. Everyone eases forward toward the bed a little, a few feet from where I stand. "It could take anywhere from a few minutes to hours for her to pass, so be prepared."

I'm killing my mother. I repeat the words a thousand times over in my head, really savoring the meaning. I'm killing my own mother right now.

I'm a monster.

Legally I can't plug the machines back in, but that doesn't make me feel any better about my actions at all.

Everyone is on edge, like they're waiting for her to start choking or have some other dramatic ending. Instead, her breathing becomes audible, raspy, each breath she takes shallower than the last. I was hoping this process would be quick, that she wouldn't suffer, but we don't always get what we want.

I study her features one last time, and try to recall how beautiful she used to be. She never looked like me, but she is a different kind of woman. I am short and curvy with a light caramel complexion, but she is tall and skinny, with beautiful copper skin. I always envied her.

The seconds feel like years as I wait for her to move on.

And when it happens, I know it. I feel it like a weight on my chest.

One minute she is here with me, and the next, her presence is gone.

Her chest stops moving, the rasp of her breathing has silenced. I don't react in any way, I don't think I know how to. Big Mary and the waitresses burst into tears again, clutching each other. Will sags, studying me carefully. I only tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear, and give her warm hand one last squeeze.

It was amazing having her. But now she's gone. I'm all alone in this world now.

I have a heart of stone, and a mind of steel. It sounds appealing, but I'd give anything to feel again.

I walk towards the door, and Michael calls after me. "Where are you going?"

"Home." I answer simply, and I can't bring myself to look at Moonsie again.

"We've arranged for a funeral," Big Mary sniffles, and I scowl. "Why wasn't I informed of this?" "You were. Every day we reminded you while you sat there and stared at her." Oh yeah. I don't remember much from those days.

"The funeral's in two days, back home in Mineappolis. She'd want you to be there, you know."

"I assume there are arrangements for her body?" They nod. "The funeral home's gonna take her, prepare her for the service."

The air leaking out of my lungs, I nod. "I'll be there."

"Me too." Michael and Will both say at the same time, and then send each other matching glares.

****

Groaning, I roll over in bed again, placing pillows on top of my head. That still doesn't block out the whispers of Michael, Becky, Ana, and the rest of the group on Becky's side of the room.

"Someone say something to her," I hear Becky whisper in a somber, hushed tone. "Why?" "Her mom just died idiot! She needs someone to talk to." I roll my eyes. They're really conceited if you ask me, who says I need anyone's company, much less theirs?

"You three go! You guys are friends with her." I hear Carleigh say. I can see her ebony frown without even turning around. I assume she's referring to Ana, Becky and Michael. I don't know why Ana's with them, since when were they friends?

I hear the three of them creep over to my bed, and sigh, sitting up quickly. "What do you want?"

Becky shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably, giving me a nervous smile. I remember how afraid I was of her at first sight, but now it seems the tables have turned.

"Hey, how you doing?" She asks with a nervous chuckle. "You feeling alright?" Ana adds, stepping closer. Michael only watches me with big round eyes, chewing his lip.

"We thought you might like someone to talk to, you know... about...." "None of you knew her anyways. It's not like you actually care."

"Well you're acting like you don't either." Michael snaps right back, crossing his arms. "What're you talking about? Of course I care," I tell him, laying back down on the bed with my back turned.

"You haven't cried, or showed any sort of emotion or anything. You're just... there." "Yes I have," I lie, caressing the worn bedspread under my fingertips.

"No. You haven't. I'm worried for you. The funeral is tomorrow and you haven't made any travel plans or anything." I shrug, sighing. "Why do you care?" "She is your mother, and I care about you."

"I'm going to the funeral, alright? Lay off." I grumble under my breath, burying my head in the pillows.

"I will never lay off," I hear him mutter, followed by the sound of my door slamming behind him.

****

I don't know whether to be offended or amused at the fact that Will is wearing his bandanna/backwards baseball cap combo to my mother's funeral. I guess no event is too formal to look like you belong at a rock concert. It's weird, paired with a black suit. It's oddly attractive.

I decide to be amused, so I can have something to distract me from what's going on right now.

Michael fastens his scarf around me, holding me around the waist as we walk through the grassy meadow next to lake Minnetonka. I don't know why, but this is where Moonsie always wanted to be buried. It's a blustery day, cold, and I'd rather be anywhere else.

Her casket is situated above a deep hole in the earth, a deep cherry color, adorned with wreaths of flowers. As everyone sits in the folding chairs a few feet from me so the service can be begin, I can't help but peer down in the hole. Wondering what it would be like if it were me being lowered six feet under, never to be seen again.

I sit between Will and Michael during the service, while a pastor who didn't even know her describes how beautiful and kind she was. Apparently, the lord saw a rose missing in his garden, and 'called her home.' Oh.

I do my best to blur the noise, and listen for the push and pull of Lake Minnetonka. My father and I used to visit here when I was young. I bet he doesn't even know Moonsie's gone, whoever he is.

When it's over, everyone gathers around the casket, and for some reason, looks to me. I give Will a confused look, and he bends down to whisper in my ear. "You were closest to her, obviously. You're supposed to... You know. Say something."

His voice changed at that last part, begging me.

Everyone clears a circle around me, staring, waiting. But I don't know what to say. Goodbye? Confess the feelings that I don't have, even though I reach for them with all of my being?

It's the first time I've been home in a while, I should feel something. Happiness? Grief? My soul feels as empty as the gap in the earth, Moonsie's tomb.

"I killed my mother. And that will stay with me until I'm as dead as she is."

I turn away abruptly, stalking away through the sweet-smelling winter grass. I hear Michael call my name, followed by a whole lot of silence, but I couldn't care less. I couldn't bear to stand there one moment longer.

What I said was rash and insensitive, but I had to get it off of my chest. Her death is my fault completely, and I'm fully aware of it. If I hadn't said it then, it would weigh down on me forever.

Maybe I'll regret that decision later, maybe for the rest of my life, but right now I don't care. My life seems so surreal, I had no idea what was coming the minute I stepped off the plane into New York.

I end up sitting on the cold and sandy shore of Lake Minnetonka, watching as the blue waves swirl and kiss the horizon. It's a beautiful sight, and I do my best to focus on it as I hear soft footsteps approaching behind me.

Michael takes a seat on the sand beside me, and thankfully doesn't say a word.

"I'm not going back," I clarify after a long bout of quiet. "I didn't ask you to." He says in a neutral tone, I can't tell how he feels about my actions.

"Can I ask you a question?" He says vaguely, letting sand flow through his fingers loosely. "What?"

"When's the last time you've eaten?"  My mind draws a blank. A few days ago maybe? A week? Yesterday I had a sip of water. "Slept recently?" He asks, but he already knows the answer to that.

"So? What do you care?" "You walk around like a zombie." He says softly. "There's something wrong, we need to address it." "I'm fine. Worry about yourself." "I'll take you out to eat."

I stand quickly, brushing the sand off of my skirt. "No thanks!" I yell louder than I wanted to. "Skip." He sounds truly sad.

"Just leave me be," I plead him. I have no appetite or desire for rest. The thought of trying to fill the whole in my chest with food sickens me. Nothing Should even touch my tongue.

"I can't... I... I can't stand to look at you like this, baby! Every time I see you it's like someone's kicked me in the gut. I just want you to feel better."

"Don't worry about me."

I have a feeling he wasn't done with his confession, but I can't take any more drama at the moment.

"I'll see you at school," I tell him, stalking away.

The waves of the lake are especially wild today, churning, whispering my name.

Calling me home.

I don't have a home anymore.

Hello loves!!! I hope you liked this chapter! I know it's sad, but it's supposed to be :'( I have a goal of 25 votes! Help me loves!

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