The clock ticked slowly. Too slowly. It had been an hour now, an hour since the doctor came and left.
"She might not make it through the night," he had said.
He was right. At this pace, my mother would die before night came.
Mother groaned in pain, reluctantly, I peeled my eyes away from the clock to look at her. Her blonde hair was wet with sweat. She was so thin and pale that I could see the bones poking beneath her skin.
"This cancer will kill me," mother breathed, shaking her head restlessly. Her blue eyes had darkened significantly and the hollow ness of her eyes was a frightening sight.
"Lianna," mother called, she had a faraway look in her eyes. Maybe, she was seeing that bright light people saw when they were about to die.
"Yes, mother" I answered, shifting my chair closer to her bed.
My mother smiled. It was the first time I had seen her smile at me since I was eight years old. She grabbed my hand, still not looking at me.
