I wake up to the banging of my door from my mom telling me to get up. It gets annoying at times but I'm used to it. My daily routine is getting old, good thing it would soon end for me. For two years I've been patiently waiting for my end to arrive: Waiting for God to bring me back to His kingdom. Thirty-three more days until my presumed death. I'm surprised that I'm not on life support yet. I'd give it 2 weeks tops until they rush me to the hospital and make me depend on a machine to keep me alive. My soul is slowly slipping away but at the same time still holding a firm grip on earth, refusing to let go. I mentally prepared myself for the awaited day. Never attached myself to anything or anyone. Quite dreadful isn't it? But I figured doing this wouldn't make me hurt when I leave. I have no friends as part of the plan. School is just a place where I pass time although, that place would now be my hospital room. I can feel my body getting weaker day by day. Today, I believe would be like every other day: Lonesome. Eating by myself during lunch completely isolated from the others, finding nowhere for myself except for the silent moments at night in my sleep. My mother worries about my wellbeing but she well knows she wouldn't have to worry for much longer. 

I get out of bed, brush my teeth, wash my face, get changed and take my meds. All nine pills flushed down my throat with water. I don't want to die, but I'm ready for it. I don't want to leave, but I have no choice. I don't want to lose, but I will accept defeat wholeheartedly. I go down the stairs to find my mom cooking breakfast like she does everyday. I told her I was going to be late. 

"Mom, I need to go."

"But honey, you haven't eaten breakfast yet."

"It's fine, I'm not hungry anyways."

"But I made your favorite."

"I'm really sorry mom but-"

"Just-just stay here with me a little bit longer," she trembles. "You don't have much time Sofia!"

I knew it all too well. I knew what she was going to say. Her eyes were teary with bags around her eyes from sleepless nights of crying. 

"Mom,"

"I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to-"

"Mom, I'm going to be late."

Cold as I may seem, pretending not to hear what she had said was better for the both of us. She put on a fake smile and hugged me. I just stood there.

"Everything will be fine. Be safe. I love you."

"Love you too."

And with that I left with no more words. 

My mom thinks I take the bus but I choose to walk to avoid people. Walking to school is the only time I feel at peace besides my sleep. Day after day it gets harder and it is then that I feel my last days are soon arriving. 

Out of breath, I finally reached school. Unlike everybody else, I have no one to greet or to say hi to. I rushed to my classroom avoiding eye contact with everyone I seemed to have passed by. I waited for class to start while drawing on my notebook until it happened. My vision blurred, my hands felt numb, my head banged with pain and the beat of my heart felt like a distant memory I couldn't seem to grasp; then I collapsed. It happened so fast I couldn't believe it. Death was coming for me earlier than I expected.

I felt something drip on my hand. It was warm. I opened my eyes to find myself lying down on a hospital bed. So my life has summed up to this, I thought. Then, I felt a familiar warmth spreading on my palm. It was my mom's hand. Looking up, I saw her sorrowful eyes filled with tears. 

"Mom," I whispered, my voice a bit croakier than what I expected. 

"Sofia you're awake! Thank God. Stay here. I'll go call the nurse."

As she left my eyes turned to the clock on the wall. 6:38 it read. I was out for eleven hours. I tried getting up but the dextros made it hard. I managed to get up and I slowly approached the door. 603. Remember that, I told my self. I roamed through the hospital corridors. Up, down, left, right. I wandered every inch of the building until I got lost. Yes, lost. I knew my room number just not where it was. I ended up in the waiting room where another patient was sitting alone in the third row. He seemed to be in deep thought. I caught a glimpse of his eyes and I knew why. I've seen that look in my dad's eyes just before he passed away. His time was almost up, his clock slowly ticking away the days that would alarm him of the life after this one and he knew what was coming.

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