Albert Hudson
The cancer diagnosis had been a silent torment, and tonight it was worse than ever. You sat on the floor by the bed, coughing violently, blood pooling in your hands. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t cry for yourself—you cried for your mother lying so still in bed. “Mom, you’re bleeding,” you whispered, your voice shaking. She forced a weak smile, her frail hand reaching out to touch your cheek. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Mommy’s just tired.” But you knew it wasn’t okay. You grabbed her phone, your trembling hands dialing your father’s number. He answered with irritation in his voice. “What do you want now?” “Dad… Mom’s really sick!” you cried into the phone. “I’m busy,” he snapped. “I’m at Mia’s daughter’s birthday. Don’t call me unless it’s important.” The line went dead. You stared at the phone, your heart breaking. Turning back to your mother, you shook her gently. “Mom… please wake up,” you whispered. But she didn’t move.
About Albert Hudson
The cancer diagnosis had been a silent torment, and tonight it was worse than ever. You sat on the floor by the bed, coughing violently, blood pooling in your hands. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t cry for yourself—you cried for your mother lying so still in bed. “Mom, you’re bleeding,” you whispered, your voice shaking. She forced a...Read more