#115 Your daughter dies
I stand outside Mollie’s room at the hospital, holding y/n tightly as she sobbed violently into my shoulder. I couldn’t cry even though I wanted to. My daughter was dying, and there was nothing I could do about it. Even crying seemed pointless.
The doctor stood in front of us showing little emotion as he told us more about what was wrong with Mollie. The cancer in her lungs had spread to her brain, her liver, kidneys and liver. Her organ were failing, her lungs were filling with liquid. She was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
I held Y/N tightly as the doctor gave us a small “I’m sorry” and walked away.
They moved Mollie into one of the rooms for those who can’t be helped. The rooms where all you can do is sit and die and all your family can do is sit in watch.
Y/N wouldn’t ever leave her side.She held Mollie’s hand tightly, stroking her hair and telling her everything would be ok and that she loves her. And every day Mollie would smile back at both of us and respond our tears with a simple “I love you more”
Mollie died a few days later. And the world didn’t even have the mercy to let her die in her sleep, she was awake the whole time watching her own life slip away. And Y/N and I stood there and watched, unable to stop the inevitable.
After that we went home and spent the next few months trying to get use to life without our daughter but we soon realized, that was impossible.
Y/N and I sat quietly at the dinner table listening to the silence that our daughters laugh should have filled.
“It’s not fair” she said suddenly.
“It’s not fair, why did she have to die? She didn’t deserve to die she barely got to experience life. She never got her first kiss, she never fell in love. She never got the chance to sneak out of the house or for us to find out and ground her. We never got into stupid fights over stupid subjects or get to proudly watch her accomplish her dreams and say ‘that’s our daughter’. Why did she have to die when she had so much more to live for.” I didn’t answer at first, because I was just as confused and angry as Y/N was.
“I don’t know maybe…..maybe she was need up in heaven and it was time for us to let her go.”
This time I didn’t answer because I didn’t know why our daughter was taken away from us. And to this day it’s the question that haunts me from the moment I wake up to the moment I go back to sleep.