Chapter 2 - George’s Plea

George stood in the hallway, his small fists clenched tightly at his sides. He could hear his mother's weak coughs coming from inside the room, the sound so faint it barely registered in his mind. He knew something was wrong. He had been trying to get his father's attention for hours, but James wouldn't listen. James never listened.

George had begged his father to help his mother, to take her to the doctor again, to do something. But each time he had been dismissed. The first time, he had caught James in the hallway. "Mommy's coughing up blood!" he had cried, his eyes wide with fear. James had sneered at him, calling him a liar. "She's fine, George. Stop making things up."

The second time, George had grabbed his father's sleeve. "She's in so much pain, Daddy. You have to help her!" But James only frowned, brushing him off. "It's just a transplant. The doctor said she won't die."

And now, the third time, George had lost all hope. He stood at the door of his mother's room, his heart racing in his chest. "Please, Daddy," he pleaded, tears streaming down his face. "I don't want to lose her." He didn't understand why his father wouldn't help. He didn't understand why no one cared.

James had finally snapped. He grabbed George by the shoulders and shoved him out of the room. "I told you, Mary won't die," he said coldly. "You're disturbing Susana. Don't come back here again."

George's small feet pounded down the hospital corridor as he ran away from his father's anger. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew that he couldn't stay in that room, couldn't stay near his father, who had turned into a stranger. He couldn't understand why James didn't care. Why didn't he want to help his mother?

The hospital felt like a maze to George. The sterile white walls and endless hallways only made him feel more alone. He didn't know where to go, but he couldn't sit idly by while his mother was dying. He had to do something.

He eventually made his way back to his mother's room. But when he opened the door, he was met with silence. Mary was still lying in the bed, her face pale and unmoving. Her chest was no longer rising and falling with each breath.

"No… no, Mommy, wake up," George whispered, his heart sinking in his chest. He crawled up onto the bed beside her, shaking her gently, his small hands grasping at her limp body. But it was too late. Mary was gone.