Hikari's First Tragedy
The sun once dotted the sky.
A pink horizon, taken with dusk, fell.
A rabbit hopped.
A bird above, circled, dove.
A simple tree falls.
The road was slick.
A horn blares.
A car swerves.
A hill greets the tumbling automobile happily.
A siren is heard.
"Mommy, mama. Please... wake up..." a little girl grieves for her mother as a nearby nurse in a white one-piece slim-fitting dress attempted at steering the young one away; turning swiftly to hear words from the parched lips of the child%u2019s mother.
"My dear..." Reaching a hand to her daughter with as much energy as she could muster, she squeezes the tiny, outstretched palm in a reassuring gesture. "I may go... but... light will never... leave... you..." she opens her bloodshot eyes to look into the beautiful pale face of her daughter one last time; the machine next to the hospital bed crept into a steady beep. The woman%u2019s eyelids never again sunk close on her own.
The small child with jet-black hair struggles for breath as the sight of her mother fills her petite brain. Ducking out of the clutches of the nurse and running to her mother was instinctive, almost mechanical. "Mama..." She grasps her mother's hand in hers as tears make shallow rivers down her wet cheeks. "You're not gone. You're not..."
In her mind, these last words echoed out along with the surrounding noises and happenings: doctors rushing to check machinery and the woman, herself crying, and the tender hold of the nurse, once again pulling her back from her dead mother.