A dying man... barely a week left to live... and it was terrible. You could tell he was dying, it didn't matter that there was an oxygen tank running or that there was a hospital bed in the living room. Even without those things there you could just tell he was dying. And it... it scared me, here was a man that I barely knew who was a relative of the family and he was dying, right in front of me. And I couldn't do anything about it, I mean of course not, who can?
**2015 EDIT**
...
The smell haunts me the most.
I'll wake from nightmares with it lingering in my nose.
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