My cell phone rings in my pocket, but I do not realize it.
I'll get it out after five minutes.
Five missed calls and ten messages.
The worst thoughts flashed through my head.
I grabbed my bag and drove straight to you.
I ran into the emergency room entrance hall and looked around.
Your mother cried into your father's arms.
Your brother stares into the void.
I run into the room where your sister just ran out crying.
There was blood everywhere and you just lay there.
In the middle of the room.
The doctors tried everything to save your life.
But it was too late.
Too late to say goodbye.