Gone - Mel Afoa

He is screaming, his voice echoing off the hospital walls.

He takes off, in search of the hospital room where his mother lies, dying.
He runs, ignoring the screams of the doctors and his family. One by one, he pulls the screens off each curtain, looking from bed to bed. All he sees are plain faces, the sombre and sullen expressions radiating the hospital. He runs past the people who are mourning, jumps over the visitors, and pushes past the nurses on duty. He passes a screen window, not having time to look at the change of weather. What was once thought to be a beautiful sunlight day, is now a bundle of grey clouds hovering over the hospital building. There is no breeze in the air, the atmosphere dead both in the hospital and out. Death has walked out of the hospital doors.
He pushes past, not knowing where he is going, only that his mission is to save his mother. He hurries past the Infants Room, where a mother and her partner are mourning the loss of their newborn baby. Though he walks past, he sees a teenager, his own age, crying over a lifeless body of a young boy. He bumps into an nurse tending an elderly man suffering from lung cancer.
He walks on, trying to seek her, hysteria playing a significant role in his marathon around the hospital. He asks the front desk for directions desperately, hovering over the nurse impatiently as she finds out his answer. When her screechy voice gives him his answer, he is off again, running through the hospital corridors like batman and his batmobile.
He suddenly finds the door he was looking for, while rushing around randomly. He runs into the room and silently goes by his mothers side. The nurse inside asks him to leave quietly, but he refuses, ignoring her and gazing silently at the fragile form of his mother.
She is lying on the bed, eyes closed, mouth tight. The cuts and brusies she endure from the gang rape are evident all over her body, the wounds too deep to heal, both on her body, and in her heart. The bullet that struck her, though taken out, has left a massive hole in her chest, a hole too big to let life escape. She is dying, and dying slowly, the pain evident on her features as she struggles to hold onto her life.
He whispers he name, silently and softly, reaching out for her fragile hand.
She opens her eyes, the blackness of death still hovering in her mind.
" Mother", he calls, a single tear falling gently.
She turns to him, and smiles. She knew he would come. He would do anything for her. Anything. And yet, even he couldn't stop the boys who had hurt her. She didnt want to tell him it was his old father's friends. He already suffered enough when his dad walked out when he was only 3 months.
"Mother", he calls again, scared of losing the beautiful yet deadly woman in front of him.
 She finds her voice, and whispers his name. He runs his hand through her hair, putting his forehead on her bruised one. She smiles gently, knowing her time is running out. Less than a minute left. She cannot continue. The nurse stands behind, eyes sorrow, heart sombre. She knows death is here. She sees his invisible form hovering over the lady. She mutters her goodbye and leaves, a small tear rolling down her right eye.
" My son", his mother whispers, and he knows its going to be her last words. " My son", she repeats, voice barely audible as he starts to whimper with fear and sorrow.
"Don't...give...up. Promise me...Promise me you...you... will be a doctor. Your...c-child..hood dream...", she whispers slowly. He nods vigorously. And with that, she leans forward gently, and kisses his forward. His eyes are not on her, but at the ceiling. He has dropped her hand, and is now wishpering a silent prayer to save his mother. He turns away from her, screaming at the Lord to save his mother, to help her. He asks the Heavenly Father to please take her away from the clawing hands of Death. He whispers, shaking all over, the teardrops of Heaven pattering away on the hospital room window. He screams, the tears falling, knowing that if he puts all his emotions in this speech, she will be saved. He asks retorical questions.
"Who is going to comfort me, Lord?"
" Who am I going to use as a living Grandmother for my kids?"
" Who is going to cook dinner, smile and laugh with me?"
He turns back to his mother. He notices many things about her. Her scars on her body, shaped like angel wings. Hands are soft, and not calloused and bruised. He notices her still body. Notices her eyes closed. And most of all, notices the gentle smile she has left for him, to comfort his journey on earth, as she continues on her journey to the gates of Heaven.