She's late, as usual

Writing Five Sentence Fiction on the word prompt this week- Waiting. Click here for other entries.

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I met her for the first time, my new roommate, after waiting outside our room for an hour; apparently she had been sleeping soundly inside.

I waited for her to gulp down all the shots on the table and then held her hair back while she threw up in the basin; I wasn't going to let her suffer alone.

I waited for her, wearing my white veil, while she looked at herself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, applying some more gloss now, readying herself to walk me down the aisle; I wasn't going to let her miss a minute of my wedding.

I waited for her to arrive at the venue before starting my speech, as I grabbed my first award; I couldn't do this without her.

Today I'm waiting for her again, on the death bed, creating her worried, panicked face's images in my mind; I'm not dying without seeing her for the last time.

©SoumyaaVerma