The creak of the open, a silver of light etched through the now open room. Shadowing anything blocking to reach the walls. Toys and clothes for the most part. A figure as well leaning against the opening of the doorway.
Eyes of tiredness watched a body move from the sudden sign of a lamp’s glow. A groan as well. The sound made the figure smile fondly to it. When letting a sigh out, taking mouse steps to the child’s bed.
Lighting kneeling by the side of the bed. Eyes once again trained on the small child lax wildly upon the bed. The soft face of youth, made a thin, bony, callous hand run the tips of the fingers grazed the side, letting the thumb tickle the nose.
Again, a sleepily groan was heard.
Out of habit, fixed the blankets to cover the body better. Picking at random of a toy to rest by the child.
Relaxing the arms back to the older person to hold up their head, watching the child sleep on deeply in dreamland.
It was then, and only then, that the person felt their was face was wet. From tears.
Why? There was no need to cry. Everything was good. Everything was going to be fine. By tomorrow . . . everything would be . . .
Shaking one’s head to clear all thoughts. Taking calming breathes. For at the moment, breathing is the only that can be done.
For whenever it could the person’s last.
It was then, the person stood up. Glancing out the slightly draped window that morning was nearing. Bowing quickly and gently kissing the child’s head. Doing the same dashing to the door. Closing the door to just a crack.
Not long the child awoke. Only soon finding out the child was alone with nothing.
The mother packed and gone. Father dead before the child’s birth. No siblings. No buddy.
The child only went back to sleep seeing that dreamland can’t make up it’s mind to make the child happy or not.
It be funny, if it was the 5844th time.
“Being in a coma sucks.” The child gripped in pain, wishing to go home.
Seeing everything as it was, not hearing it.
The End.
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