There I was. Wishing I could turn back time. And there she was. Tucked in pure white cloth. People were surrounding her, murmuring, mumbling, reading out the words printed big and bold on the Yaasin. My family and I sat right in front of her. Even in the mumble and whispers of voices around me, I could still here my aunt, "What did I do? Have I not given you enough care, attention? Mother, why are your eyes opened? Is there anything you left?" She sobbed and sobbed. I leaned closer to granny and kissed her forehead. She felt so cold, almost like ice.

I was on my way to school with Dhaniah and her mom. My mom was attending to her mom, who just got admitted to the hospital this morning. I thought they were just going for a check-up. But no. Still in the car, we got a call from mom, saying that gran is in a critical state. I panicked immediately. Dhaniah and her mom calmed me down and told me to pray, hard. And so I did. Just a few minutes later, we received another call.

Breakdown. I was almost wailing, my face buried in my hands. I was still praying real hard. Even though I had exams, I still haven't had the heart to go to school. So I got back home, changed, and followed big bro to my aunt's house, in Damasara. Arwah Hasnah bt Long was diagnosed with stroke when she was 80+. She layed in bed in the TV room for months and months, eating soup and porridge, and milk. Until the 5th of March 2009.

After solat jenazah and all, a few of us followed to her burial. I was a bit late. My cousin missed a junction and we got lost for a minute. We arrived after she was buried, but a few people are still there, praying. After that, we all took turns pouring a little water over the mound of earth where poor gran is. She had a fever at the hospital and doesn't seem to be responding. We'll just have to accept. She was already reaching 90 years. It's just... her time has come. There's nothing else we could do. Well, at least she died a good death.

At least she got something less to suffer.