by Nacita
(Lilburn, GA)
In the hospital room that very cold frozen Christmas Day there was a smell I will not soon forget in any way. The smell was stale as if no new air had graced the open room. It had a hint of salt that tickled your nose and the lingering touch of old blood that no one could cover up. It was not just a smell of the nose but a smell of unhappiness and death that arose. The room had a stench I have never known. It was the smell of depression, sadness yet hope. When I entered this large room every day it would hit me like panic attack. It made me feel sick and not want to breathe for fear of having to feel the suffering in the air. The smell was that of babies dying and most of them were alone in that very cold, stale open room.