If I Die Before I Wake

by Jean Little

The Flu Epidemic Diary of Fiona Macgregor, Toronto, Ontario, 1918

Thursday, October 24, 1918 - I can hardly bear to look at Fanny. She is grey and her breath rasps and gurgles and wheezes. She has lost pounds. Her face is all hollow and a dark colour. A bluish Grey. That is one of the symptoms of this Flu, Aunt told us. Nobody is saying the word, but we all know. So many have died, but not my Fan. I will not leave her no matter what anyone says.
Later - I cannot sit still unless I have something to do. Mostly I hold Fanny's hand, but then she grows so restless and pushes me away. Whenever anyone comes near, though, she reaches for me again and clings for dear life. I feel as though I am made of glass and may fly apart into little sharp slivers.