Amelia's Pov

I'm trying to think, but I can't seem to do that over the sound of my heart beating in

my eardrums, I grip Rachel's hand so tightly I can see my nails make little crescent marks in her skin.

I'm so scared, I'm so so scared, I can't shake off the extreme feeling of fear that enveloped me ever since Eugene called me crying.

I could hardly understand him but I heard enough to know that my mum had been convulsing and had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance, the bitter taste of guilt was all-encompassing.

I can't help thinking that if I had been there she wouldn't have regressed, I know it's unreasonable but I can't help it, while my mom was fighting for her life at home,

I was out having the time of my life.

A new wave of tears accompanies that thought and Rachel holds me tighter as I sob into her shoulder.

The Uber slow down as we arrive and I jump out as soon as it stops, nearly hitting Rachel on the head with my heels, but I don't stop, the adrenaline in my veins propels me forward.

I get into the hospital's lobby and meet a nurse who forces me to calm down before I speak, she tells me my mum's room number and I dash off again.

As I walk through the sterile halls of the hospital, my heart feels heavy with worry and anticipation, the click-clack of my heels echoes against the linoleum floors, a stark contrast to the hushed whispers and beeping machines that fill the air.

My mind is consumed with thoughts of my mother and once again the sharp claws of fear grip me, I can hear Rachel trying to catch up to me. I halt at room number 26, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I'm about to see, this is it.

Rachel arrives beside me and slips her hand into mine, I turn to look at her and the harsh fluorescent light seems to highlight the lines of worry etched on her face, she squeezes my hand in silent solidarity and I squeeze back.

I take my hand from Rachel's and push open the door, I'm met with the sight of Mum, pale and frail in the hospital bed, tubes and wires snake around her like a web, connecting her to machines that beep and hum in a steady rhythm.

It’s a moment that feels surreal as if time has stood still, and yet, amid this heart-wrenching scene, I witness a display of strength and resilience that leaves me in awe.

The sterile hospital room is filled with the soft hum of medical equipment, creating an atmosphere that is both sombre and hopeful.

As I approach my mom’s bedside, I am struck by the quiet determination in her eyes, despite the weariness that clouds them. Her hand, though weakened, reaches out to mine, offering a silent reassurance that speaks volumes, Eugene is asleep in the chair at one side of the room, I move to her and place my hand in hers.

In that fleeting touch, I feel a surge of courage and love, a reminder of the unbreakable bond between a mother and her child.

In the face of adversity, my mom embodies grace and fortitude, her spirit refusing to be dimmed by the harsh reality of illness.

The beeping monitors and intricate web of tubes serve as a testament to her resilience, each one symbolizing her unwavering fight for recovery. It’s a poignant reminder of the incredible strength that resides within her, a strength that inspires me to stand tall in the face of life’s challenges.

As I sit by her side, I am reminded of the countless moments of love and laughter we have shared, and I find solace in the memories that weave through the fabric of our relationship. Despite the uncertainty that looms ahead, I am filled with a profound sense of gratitude for the unwavering support and love that she has always bestowed upon me.

My mom’s unwavering spirit becomes a beacon of light, illuminating the path forward. Through her silent strength, she imparts a powerful lesson - that even in the darkest of times, there exists a wellspring of resilience and love that can carry us through. And as I hold her fragile hand in mine, I am filled with a renewed sense of determination to navigate the challenges ahead with grace and fortitude.

She places her hand on my cheek and I delight in the feeling, even now with her here on this bed, she's still trying to comfort me.

“Promise me, promise me you'll be alright," she said, kissing my forehead.

“You're not going anywhere mum, I'll get the money for the treatment and you'll be okay”

As gestures are not enough I need a tangible word from her to hold on to, I desperately need it, he doesn't say anything but she brings my forehead down to her and kisses it again

My heart is beating wildly in my chest, if I lose her, I don't know what I'll do, I shake that thought out of my head and move aside to check on Eugene, while Rachel talks to Mum.

The nurse walks into the room and gives us a sad smile, she checks Mum's vitals and tells us to please step outside so she can rest, we take turns hugging Mom, then I half drag, half carry a groggy Eugene who keeps repeating that he wants to stay with mum, I reassure him that we'll come and see her tomorrow, satisfied with my answer, he lets me lead him out of the room.

I'm trying to think, but I can't seem to do that over the sound of my heart beating in

my eardrums, I grip Rachel's hand so tightly I can see my nails make little crescent marks in her skin.

I'm so scared, I'm so so scared, I can't shake off the extreme feeling of fear that enveloped me ever since Eugene called me crying.

I could hardly understand him but I heard enough to know that my mum had been convulsing and had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance, the bitter taste of guilt was all-encompassing.

I can't help thinking that if I had been there she wouldn't have regressed, I know it's unreasonable but I can't help it, while my mom was fighting for her life at home,

I was out having the time of my life.

A new wave of tears accompanies that thought and Rachel holds me tighter as I sob into her shoulder.

The Uber slow down as we arrive and I jump out as soon as it stops, nearly hitting Rachel on the head with my heels, but I don't stop, the adrenaline in my veins propels me forward.

I get into the hospital's lobby and meet a nurse who forces me to calm down before I speak, she tells me my mum's room number and I dash off again.

As I walk through the sterile halls of the hospital, my heart feels heavy with worry and anticipation, the click-clack of my heels echoes against the linoleum floors, a stark contrast to the hushed whispers and beeping machines that fill the air.

My mind is consumed with thoughts of my mother and once again the sharp claws of fear grip me, I can hear Rachel trying to catch up to me. I halt at room number 26, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I'm about to see, this is it.

Rachel arrives beside me and slips her hand into mine, I turn to look at her and the harsh fluorescent light seems to highlight the lines of worry etched on her face, she squeezes my hand in silent solidarity and I squeeze back.

I take my hand from Rachel's and push open the door, I'm met with the sight of Mum, pale and frail in the hospital bed, tubes and wires snake around her like a web, connecting her to machines that beep and hum in a steady rhythm.

It’s a moment that feels surreal as if time has stood still, and yet, amid this heart-wrenching scene, I witness a display of strength and resilience that leaves me in awe.

The sterile hospital room is filled with the soft hum of medical equipment, creating an atmosphere that is both sombre and hopeful.

As I approach my mom’s bedside, I am struck by the quiet determination in her eyes, despite the weariness that clouds them. Her hand, though weakened, reaches out to mine, offering a silent reassurance that speaks volumes, Eugene is asleep in the chair at one side of the room, I move to her and place my hand in hers.

In that fleeting touch, I feel a surge of courage and love, a reminder of the unbreakable bond between a mother and her child.

In the face of adversity, my mom embodies grace and fortitude, her spirit refusing to be dimmed by the harsh reality of illness.

The beeping monitors and intricate web of tubes serve as a testament to her resilience, each one symbolizing her unwavering fight for recovery. It’s a poignant reminder of the incredible strength that resides within her, a strength that inspires me to stand tall in the face of life’s challenges.

As I sit by her side, I am reminded of the countless moments of love and laughter we have shared, and I find solace in the memories that weave through the fabric of our relationship. Despite the uncertainty that looms ahead, I am filled with a profound sense of gratitude for the unwavering support and love that she has always bestowed upon me.

My mom’s unwavering spirit becomes a beacon of light, illuminating the path forward. Through her silent strength, she imparts a powerful lesson - that even in the darkest of times, there exists a wellspring of resilience and love that can carry us through. And as I hold her fragile hand in mine, I am filled with a renewed sense of determination to navigate the challenges ahead with grace and fortitude.

She places her hand on my cheek and I delight in the feeling, even now with her here on this bed, she's still trying to comfort me.

“Promise me, promise me you'll be alright," she said, kissing my forehead.

“You're not going anywhere mum, I'll get the money for the treatment and you'll be okay”

As gestures are not enough I need a tangible word from her to hold on to, I desperately need it, he doesn't say anything but she brings my forehead down to her and kisses it again

My heart is beating wildly in my chest, if I lose her, I don't know what I'll do, I shake that thought out of my head and move aside to check on Eugene, while Rachel talks to Mum.

The nurse walks into the room and gives us a sad smile, she checks Mum's vitals and tells us to please step outside so she can rest, we take turns hugging Mom, then I half drag, half carry a groggy Eugene who keeps repeating that he wants to stay with mum, I reassure him that we'll come and see her tomorrow, satisfied with my answer, he lets me lead him out of the room.