And I saw it – I saw my father open his mouth to speak. His careful words began as nothing more than a small, almost inaudible groan resulting from the failed attempt at actual speech. For a brief moment, I actually believed he was dying, because his muffled groan was actually quite terrifying despite its struggling weakness. Why didn’t I act sooner? I could have saved him before it was too late. And when his head started to fall to the right, I briefly panicked, thinking that he had finally met the grim reaper.
“You see what you’ve done?!” I shouted.
“Richard, he’s not dead,” Patrick pointed out.
“Of course he is!”
“He’s still breathing.”