I cursed the sterile white room where Ann died

As I stood in the cold, sterile room where Ann took her last breath, I felt a surge of anger and grief overwhelm me. The walls seemed to close in on me, suffocating me with their clinical whiteness. How could such a vibrant, loving soul like Ann be reduced to nothing but a statistic in this cold, impersonal place?

I cursed the fluorescent lights that flickered above her bed, casting a harsh glow on her pale, lifeless face. I cursed the beeping machines that monitored her fading heartbeat, the sterile smell of disinfectant that permeated the air. It all felt so wrong, so cruel.

But as I looked down at Ann’s peaceful expression, a sense of calm washed over me. Despite the sterile surroundings, her presence was still there, comforting me in my time of need. And I knew that she was at peace, free from pain and suffering.

So I whispered a final goodbye to Ann, vowing to carry her memory with me always. And as I walked out of the sterile white room, I knew that her spirit would live on in the hearts of all who loved her.