You Said "Goodbye"

The elevator eeks upward and the ride is painfully slow. You’re on the top floor. No ‘elevator’ music, thank heaven. As I step off I am met with silence’s blanket. A quietness that’s the norm, even though a row of residents are lined along the wall that entails the main living area. My steps are soft as I place myself into its center. And a spectacle I feel. My cheeks heat from the spill of blood to them. Each pair of wall-lined eyes are upon me, gawking. The waning hope that the visitor be for them, painfully clear in each cloudy view.