Empty

She can still hear him crying. It has been over a year, but she can still hear him. She knows its an hallucination, that it isn’t real but that doesn’t make it stop. There is only one thing she can do. She climbs the stairs, flicks on the light in his room. Its just as it had been on the day he had gone. Untouched. She remembers the sirens, the icy panic, the flashing lights, the hospital and the sorry, pathetic expressions on the doctors and nurses faces. She looks into the empty cot and the crying stops. All she can hear is the wind in the trees and the sounds of her own sobbing.