The Wait

The sound of the clock on the wall echoed in my ears. I knew my mother was whispering comforting words, but all I could hear was that clock.

I hated waiting. I just wanted it over, but at the same time I didn’t. I wished it had never even started, that I’d never been put in that position. I felt sick and emotionless at the same time. I couldn’t bear it; all I could do was try not to cry, to contain the tears threatening to burst out in the heat of the moment.

“You’re going to be fine.” My dad said, as he reached out and took my hand, dragging me out of the trance the clock had cast on me.

“How can you know for sure?” I squeezed out weakly.

“Because you’re my daughter and I know you. You’re much stronger than you think you are. You are going to be fine.” He said sternly, trying (and almost succeeding) to get me to believe something he passionately did.

“Amanda Godfrey?” A man looked into the room, whilst impatiently tapping a pen on the clipboard in his hand.

“Yes?” I replied. My heart was pounding in my chest. Something was wrong.

“Could you come over here?” The man asked beckoning. I slowly stood up and made my way over to him.

“I’m afraid that you have less time than we originally thought. I’d be surprised if you had more than five more minutes” He couldn’t meet my eyes, so he looked at the floor instead. I raised a hand to my head, as it began to spin, I wasn’t ready yet. I needed more time. I looked back at my mother and father, who were holding hands and smiling back at me encouragingly.  How were they being so brave?

“Okay… okay… okay…” I chanted to myself, taking deep breathes. ”Thanks.”  I murmured in the direction of the man, before heading back to sit down next to my parents.

“What is it darling?” My mum asked. Dad had a concerned look on his paling face.   

“We have less time than we originally thought” I mumbled, finding it difficult to form the words. Glancing at the clock I saw it was five minutes till 12.

“Could you please take that clock off the wall, darling?” Mum asked quietly.  I placed the clock face down on the floor directly beneath where it had hung before.

“That’s better.” Mum said before stretching out her arms towards me. I groaned jokily, before happily reaching across dad and falling into her embrace.

I moved my arm so that dad was in the middle of the embrace and there we stayed for that five minutes, I could still hear the clock ticking, there seemed to be an eternity between each tick, but those final minutes were whisked away, as though someone had pulled them like a carpet from underneath me.

My head was resting on dad’s chest when I heard his heart stop, after a few final weak beats. I pulled out of the embrace and looked at my mother. Tears had already started leaking from her eyes; she bowed her head, resting it on dad’s limp hand.

The doctor was at the door again, Pity clear in his eyes. Just as I moved to stand up I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. It was midnight. “Happy Birthday dad” I whispered, looking down on his pale figure in the hospital bed.

“Let’s discuss what to do next outside” I instructed the doctor. He obliged, moving across the corridor to stand opposite the room.  I turned for one final look at the dim hospital room and felt the anticipation I’d felt before be replaced with a numbness I couldn’t explain. The clock was still ticking on the floor, reminding me of the long night ahead.

I couldn’t wait for it to be over.