Dying

Lying in the hospital bed where she be, cold and still as the IV is stuck into her lifeless arm.

I can't believe this could happen; I always thought that I would die before her. I'd at least be able to see her happily live her life, get married, give me a grandchild or two...

Yet there she was: dying right in front of my eyes. I never wanted this to happen, but then again, that's what most parents would say.

Then there's Even.

My daughter's father, the very man who helped in the creation of her. He loved her with all of his heart, though he was busy working as one of Ansem The Wise's six apprentices. He was making a living, though. Without that, how would there be income in this household? Working as a librarian doesn't pay much, you should know.

His research, however, started to control him. He wanted to fool around with the darkness in people's hearts, which swallowed him whole. Thus, he ended up disappearing for no apparent reason. Evidence, however, indicates that these new creatures called 'Heartless' were responsible somehow.

They're also responsible for putting my daughter in this comatose-like state she's in now. If it weren't for them, she would probably still be alive. She would be full of life as she always was and has been.

Even though the Heartless were responsible, Even was also responsible. He and his accomplices were all responsible for this horrible mess that Hollow Bastion is in.

But since he's gone, she's my responsibility. I had sole custody over her, seeing as Even was seen as deceased.

So it's really my fault.

Now I wish that he hadn't accepted that apprentice job at all. In fact, I wish that I had found the letter first and ripped it up to pieces.

But now he's gone, so the only things to blame are the 'Heartless'.

What's the use of blaming, though? It only makes things more complicated and much worse.

Yet there she was, cold and lifeless.

They attacked her after we left the library; we were going to walk home when they popped up out of no where and started to attack us. They caught up with her and they left me alone; I ran home and watched as they savagely attacked her. The last thing I remember seeing before they disappeared was a faint red glowing heart floating into the sky. Was that her... heart?

No, it couldn't be. There's no evidence of a forced entry to get her blood-pumping heart. All there was were a few deep scratches across her chest and face.

If it couldn't be her heart, what could it be? This just doesn't seem logical. It's like a confusing one-thousand piece puzzle that has small pieces you can barely see.

Thinking about all of this, I wonder what death was like myself.

I mean, I'm going to be gone myself, too.

Is it like they describe it in those dramatic movies and TV shows? Where you see a bright light at the end of your closed-eye vision? Is it different from that?

It probably hurts a lot, though. From my readings, I've read that the last sense you lose is your hearing. I wonder if it's true, though.

Possibly is, though your vision would be the first sense you'd lose, I think.

You close your eyes, land on the ground, which would be the last thing you'd feel, taste and smell the blood and ground around you, then hear what the assassins have to say.

It could be different, but I guess I'll end up figure this out soon enough.

Walking into the medical room after the nurses and doctor left, I softly grasped her hand. It's cold yet fragile, like a piece of thin ice. Rubbing my thumb along the top of her hand, her bones moved under her skin. Her eyes were closed, her skin remained pale as ever. I missed the joyous sound of her voice ringing throughout my ears; it sounded like a beautiful chorus of harps to me.

Looking up, I saw a man in a black cloak sitting across from me. His hood was up, covering his face.

Startled, I jumped up and grasped my chest where my heart is, making sure I didn't have a heart attack. The man only chuckled, the very chuckles that sounded like Even's.

Just who was this man, and why was he here?

He ran his finger along her other arm before running his hand down her hair, which confused me even more.

What did he want?

Hearing her pulse rate starting to flatline, he stood up and kissed her hand before letting it lie lifeless once more. He walked to the doorway, but stopped. He pulled down his hood before turning his head partially to me, only seeing half of his face.

What surprised me was that his face was very familiar.

Even? It couldn't be; he disappeared awhile ago. Plus, he was a little taller and had shorter hair...

A lot may change in awhile, though, but how much?

Turning his head back forwards, he walked out of the room and disappeared in a wisp of dark purple dusk.

Doctors and nurses rushed in upon hearing my daughter's pulse flatlining. A couple nurses pushed me out of the room so they could try to revive her, but it would be of no use.

I knew that she was dying and she wouldn't be able to wake up. It was just like a coma.

Sitting in the waiting room, I waited patiently before one of the doctors approached me and told me she was dead.

There was nothing that could have been done; something vital to her body function was missing. There was no way to replace it, but what could it have been?

I guess we'll figure it out in time.

The doctor said I could go in the room and say my last goodbyes.

So I did, walking into the room with shaky steps as I approached my daughter's deathbed. Tears streaming down my face, I grasped her hand and squeezed it.

I could have been a better mother, but there was nothing I could do about it now.

I said 'good-bye' in a shaky voice of sobs as I was full-blown crying now.

She's dead, gone forever.

A mother's love will last forever, as will mine.

Damia, died at fifteen-years-old in a Heartless attack.

The spawn of Iralia and Even.

This is all coming from me, the widowed and now lonely Miss Iralia who works at the Hollow Bastion library.