That dreaded feeling was only getting worse. Just assuming maybe I had the flu. But deep down, I knew something was wrong. So, walking faster and faster until almost a full sprint, I returned home only to learn that Mom had been taken to the hospital. I wonder why take it for a simple cold. Only to receive the heartbreaking news that it was not a simple cold, but a heart attack virus that had taken its toll on sixty percent of his heart which no longer worked, leaving only forty percent working. The medical diagnosis is called congestive heart failure and malfunctioning lungs. The hospital was going to keep her overnight. It was the next day that we were able to go see our mother, who was perhaps dying. I had no experience dealing with the conflicts and excessive feelings that were happening. The sinking pit of dread, the burning flames of hell burning inside thinking this isn't happening to my mother. The feeling of sadness that made me shiver inside. I couldn't let feelings take over because I had to be strong because my younger siblings were only sixteen, eleven, and nine years old at the time. So there was no need for fear to let them know that mom would be okay. Lying to them so they won't be heartbroken until it's time to be heartbroken. Seeing their faces lined with tears and pained expressions, knowing that our mother was sick and might not come home. To see the house that was