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by dmack
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #940275
Sometimes letting go is the only thing you can do.
THE ROOM
by Doris Ruth Mackey


         He woke up on the couch, sat up slowly and looked around. He was alone and didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there. According to his watch, it was six o'clock but was it morning or night? He walked over to the door. The knob turned but the door wouldn't open.

         There was a phone on the desk on the other side of the room. When he picked up the receiver and listened, there was no dial tone. The desk's drawers were all empty.

         There was a window next to the desk; or at least he thought there was a window behind those heavy drapes. He took hold of the cord intending to open them, but a sudden sense of dread made him change his mind.

         He looked nervously around the room again still trying to find something familiar. This time his eyes stopped on the huge fireplace. The fireplace was made of bricks and had a marble hearth and mantle. There was wood in it but no fire. He stared into the reflection in the large framed mirror that hung over the mantle. Now he really began to panic, because he didn't know the person he saw in the mirror.

         He sat down on the couch hugging the throw pillow tightly to his chest, took deep breaths and tried to stop shaking. He had to think and remember. He turned and looked at the door. It sounded as though there were people talking on the other side, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. Gripping the knob he tried to force it open. Pounding on the door first with his palms then with his fists, he called out, "Is someone there? Can you hear me? Help me! Please help me! Open the door! Let me go!"



         The clock on the wall read six o'clock. Lydia sat in the chair by her husband's bed holding his hand. The nurse was on the other side of the bed checking the IV's and the leads to the machines that were forcing his heart to beat and his body to go on breathing.

         She thought about how suddenly things had changed. Only a week ago, they had been planning their next vacation trip. Now as she sat looking at him, he looked as though he was sleeping, but in her heart she knew that this was not true. He was never going to wake up, and now she was going to do the hardest thing she had ever had to do. She felt so alone.

         Dr. Gruber cleared his throat as he entered the room. She looked up as he put his hand on her shoulder.

         "You're absolutely sure?" She asked as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "There's no chance.... No chance that he might recover?"

         The doctor shook his head, "I'm sorry, Lydia, he isn't going to recover. He's gone. The machines are only keeping his body alive."

         "Then there's nothing else we can do." She leaned over and kissed him on the lips, "I love you, Bobby. I always will." Turning back to the doctor, she said, "Do it." Dr. Gruber turned off the machines, and suddenly the room was quiet except for Lydia's sobs.



         The voices behind the door stopped. He heard a clicking sound, as though someone had unlocked the door. He turned the knob, pushed the door open, stepped out of the room and found himself surrounded by a bright white light. It felt warm and comforting. Now, he remembered it all; the terrible pain in his chest, the sound of his wife, Lydia, crying as the paramedics worked desperately to save him.

         He turned to look back into the room. There he was lying in the bed. His wife was holding him and crying. He heard her repeating over and over, "I love you, Bobby. I always will." He tried to touch her, but it was as though there was a wall of glass between them. All he could do was watch and listen.

         A voice behind him spoke. "She'll be all right, Robert, and one day you will be together again. Now it's time for you to come home. You've earned your rest."

         He looked into the light and nodded, then looked back into the room. Oh how he wished he could hold her just one more time. He called out to her, "I love you, Liddy. I always will."

         Then he stepped into the warm comforting light.



© Copyright 2005 dmack (mdmackey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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