Now and at the hour of our death

It's my childhood bedroom. I am in my twin bed and my brother is sleeping in the twin bed across from me. The nightlight is on, but over it is a statue of the Virgin Mary. I am small and in a nightgown and I climb out of bed and tiptoe over to the statue and ask the Virgin not to let them kill me in the morning. I say a Hail Mary, cross myself and jump back in bed. The bedroom door opens and it's my parents. I am not sure if I am happy or disappointed that they didn't catch me praying. They tell me that in the morning my father will go over to the church where they will administer a shot to him that will end his life. He says he is tired and that it is time. I start to cry and ask him to reconsider to please please reconsider. I say that there are so many things that I am sure I want to tell him about that I just don't remember at this moment. My mother shakes her head and smiles sadly and turns to him and says "oh, she's so upset"... I start to scream over and over again - a raw scream with no breath behind it and as I scream over and over I can feel myself not being a child but an adult.