Oh Mother, Where Art Thou?

From: Tanya (spongebobpat@yahoo.com)
Story type: Ghost
Location: Hollywood, Ca
Source: Form Submission

When I was about 8, my mother had suddenly gotten very sick with a lung infection at the young age of 38. She had trouble breathing which meant I had to take care of all her needs being the only child. After a hard day of work, I would go to bed at 10:00 or later. It seemed like every night she would bang violently on the wall with her cane. She would do this because she needed her medicine, or water, or something. I would cry night after night, just laying there in my scrawny bed, listening to her weezing next door. I was terrified that she wouldn't get better, that she would become worse. Soon, a laboring month had passed, and my mother died. It all happened very fast. The medicine she had gotten did not help, for the doctor gave her cough medicine for colds, not for a life-threatening infection. I thought the medicine was not suppost to work fast, that is why I did not confront the doctor. Everytime she talked, she sounded like she was dying, and she was. I thought it would pass. But instead, the only thing that went away was my mother. That night, I had gotten to bed at 12:oo. All day, I was busy getting blankets, water, more useless medicine, or anything she needed. As soon as I felt my eyes get heavy with lack of sleep, I heard a loud crash, like glass breaking. It was from my mothers room next door. I fled from my bed, and into her room. She had been holding a glass of water a moment before, because her arm was out-stretched, and water had flooded the floor including glass. "Mother!" I cried as I ran to her side, kneeling. I put my ear to her chest, but heard no heart beat. Then I pressed her wrist. No pulse. It took me what seemed like hours to relize she wasn't breathing. Even though it was seconds before I picked up the reciever and dialed 911. They reached my house at the speed of light, and before I knew it, she was rushed to the hospital. All I remember was staring at the lime-green waiting room walls, feeling sicker by the minute of the smell of the hospital and the butterfly feeling that she would be okay or not in the pit of my stomach. That same morning, at about 2:00, I got the news from a young man who took charge of my mother at the last minute, that my mother died. She didn't even have a pulse when she was brought in , he said. I had to wait for 2 hours because they had to do a lab test of what happened. She had a severe infection that had no cure in her lungs. I cried, and fell to the floor. I had a strong feeling I would never stop. This is what disturbs me the most. I chose to live in the same house with my Grandpa because he is the only living family member left. He did not mind staying in my mothers room. Even after my mother had been dead for almost a month. Night after night, I would still hear my mom banging on the wall with her cane, her raspy voice crying and demanding me to get her medicine. If you have an opinion about this true story I have revealed hear, e-mail me please!