The door to room 304 swings shut as my mother exits the room into the brightly lit hospital corridor leaving me to myself. The dim lighting in the room reflects the
malignant dark cloud clinging to my soul.I walk to the far end of the room where a small window overlooking the bustling street below stands. I open the the
distasteful yellowish blinds and peer down past the fire exit a couple of stories.I see a dark haired woman walking her dog. A man in a suit and tie briskly walks down the
street, black messenger bag in hand.Then something catches my eye. A little girl maybe 8 years of age sits on the front steps outside an apartment building with
her mother at her side. The girl looks pale and feverish. She is probably sick. The flu is intensely making its rounds this year. I send a silent mental message to
the downcast little girl sitting  with her head resting on her mothers shoulders. " Its gonna be okay" I tell her. "In a few days you'll be back in school playing
amongst your friends as always. Just get some rest and you'll be fine." Then I break down and cry. The tears run down my cheeks and enter my mouth as I walk from the
window to the white bed sitting in the center of the room. I kneel down next to the bed.The tears come from the recesses of my heart, from the depths
of my my soul. I cry because its not fair. I take hold of the little girls lifeless hand. I cry because my  7 year old sister has been in a coma for the past two weeks. I cry
because unlike the sick girl on the steps my sister will not be back in school for a while. I cry because my sisters heart is beating,but it is pumping blood
through a  still, comatose body. The tears are now a deluge, flooding from my eyes. My gaze runs over her small body. I caress her  soft,
beautiful cheeks. I miss her distinct blue eyes, the color of the sea, always so full of life. My hand somehow finds its way into hers again and I give it a gentle squeeze.
I feel her little fingers move ever so slightly. There is not a doubt in my mind. I cry because there is hope. I cry because there is hope for the small innocent child lying before me.
I cry because there is yet a future for the little girl, whom I love with all my heart.