She's gone and she can't ever come back. Ten years, and her time was now. Couldn't take her to a doctor to get a check of what it was and had to watch her slowly suffer. There was nothing we could do. She's gone and she can't come back. The one who was most worried doesn't even seem effected, while I, the one not as worried, as well as the youngest, are the ones hurting most. Maybe it's because we're more emotional than him. Either way, she's dead. Dead and gone, can't come back, and it was in my room. My room she lay, slowly dying, while I was reading in the bathroom.

I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm sorry