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The room was quiet despite being in a busy section of the building. No beeping of machines, like I had heard on my way up to the room. No talking from the nurses running up and down the halls. The room was empty and bare. All that was in it was a bed, a chair, and a tiny table. The bed lay empty on the opposite side of the room, sheets ruffled as if someone had just risen from it. The lights were low, one of the bulbs were burnt out, leaving the side of the room where the bed was, in partial shadow. The dark clouds blocked the sun from coming in the window beside the bed, making it even darker in the room. I stood in the doorway of the room. I dared not enter. I couldn't bring myself to do so. A nurse brushed by me and started making the bed, bringing me from my thoughts. Our eyes met and her expression changed. The nurse looked at me sympathetically as she finished fixing the sheets on the bed. She paused next to me on her way out, it looked like she wanted to say something. I wished she would, but in the end she looked away and left the room without a word.
A loud rumble caught my attention and the pitter patter of rain on the window filled the room. I found myself not wanting to look back at the empty bed in front of me. My hand trembled as I brought it up to my face. My fingers came away wet. I didn't realize I had started crying. My throat was dry. I didn't trust myself to speak. I glanced down at the rose in my other trembling hand. I hate you. I wish you'd just die already. I didn't really mean it. I was angry. I'm so sorry mom. I wanted to apologize. I should have said I love you instead. But now it's too late. I gripped the rose tightly in my hand, wincing slightly as the thorns dug into my hand, but I didn't care. Dark red blood slowly ran down my fingers, dripping onto the clean white tile floor, tainting its perfection, but I didn't care. I'd trade anything to get her back for just one more day.