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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1916658-Destiny
by Hamid
Rated: E · Short Story · Death · #1916658
This is a short story about an old man going to die because of a severe illness.
Destiny


He would die very soon he was told...three months from then.

“The illness lets its victim live at most four months,” said the doctor inspecting the X-ray image, “and you have passed one month of it.”

His children were so shocked by this that they heard almost nothing of the second part of the doctor’s speech. But he himself was listening carefully, with absolute silence.

“We don’t find it a good idea to give our patients any false hope,” the doctor added without any emotion in his eyes. “We try to be realistic and also honest with them.”

“But there should be something to be done,” said the daughter, “something...something...”

“There isn’t any something for this illness, at least till now.”

“What about a kind of a special surgical operation?” said one of the sons. “There is no worry about the money, and it can be performed anywhere in the world; we won’t have any problems with these sort of things.”

“Listen, everybody!” said the doctor firmly. “Anything you can think of, we have already thought of, discussed, and calculated the prerequisites and results of. We have done everything possible, everything. Your father is not the only person suffering from and struggling with the case. We have worked on several other cases, but unfortunately we’ve found no more than what I told you. And you are in one of the best clinics dealing with the disease, and the best, most experienced physicians are either working here or assisting us through telecommunications. Anyway, you may go to other places too, BUT, try not to tell me what to do, please.”

“How callous you are, doctor!” remarked the daughter. “You’re saying...”

“The doctor’s right, Emilia,” he interrupted her, and everybody turned to him suddenly. “My life has come to its end.”

“But we’ll definitely see other doctors, other hospitals...We’ll not give up, Father. You’ll not give up.”

Without paying attention to her, he left the room absent-mindedly.

Some time later the doctor was left alone. When the children arrived at the man’s house, he was sitting on a chair, smoking a cigarette. There were also a couple of crushed butt-ends in the ashtray.

“Dad!” cried the daughter, “smoking is deadly for you, don’t you know that?!” And reached to take the cigarette. Without looking at her, he stopped her by raising his left hand to her face.

A few moments passed in silence before the older son started talking.

“Dad you know these doctors well,” said he. “They express only their guesses. I personally have never trusted them. As she said, we’ll try other options, from the very tomorrow.”

“Yes, he’s right,” said the other son. “Only God knows when we’re gonna meet our...” His siblings turned suddenly to prevent him from uttering the word “death”. But an expression in their father’s face ensured them that he had got the word himself. Having pushed his cigarette down on the ashtray, he immediately picked up his lighter and the cigarette box from the table to light another one. Emilia took some quick steps towards him, and this time she succeeded in grabbing them from his hands and flew into a sudden rage.

“You’re killing yourself right at once in this way. You’re killing yourself and us. Why have you lost your hope? Just because they say you’re gonna...” A sob stopped her and she walked to the kitchen. Then she continued, “You shouldn’t give a damn to what they think. Don’t lose hope. We are your hope, here beside you. Doctors are never right.” She lowered her voice, sighed once, and then mumbled, “Almost never.”
She came back with a bowl of fruit in her hands, placed it before him and said tenderly, “Try these instead, please. These are good for you and these are bad,” and put the lighter and the cigarette box beside the bowl. The man stood motionless for a minute, gazing at the things on the table. He then pointed to the door with his hand. They looked at each other; they knew whenever he asked to be alone, they couldn’t resist, so left one by one.

That night the man sat awake in the darkness. He was thinking. He was thinking and smoking. “I wish I didn’t know about it,” he thought. “How hard it is to know you’re going to die...very soon. You feel closer to it every second that passes. I never knew it was that terrible to face death, to know you are finished, to leave everything and everyone you have and go away! Oh, it’s not bearable! It’s not bearable!!”

He then rose from his seat and began to pace in the hall. The doctor’s words did not leave him alone.

“‘The illness lets its victim live at most four months.’ My life reached its end all of a sudden! Just all of a damn sudden! The fear of death is even more of a killer than death itself. Three months! Three months of hard life. Overwhelming life! How can I endure? How can I tolerate? I don’t like it.” Now he was walking back and forth quickly.

“I don’t want to be killed little by little,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be tortured by death. Damn it!” And threw the cigarette away and cried, “God! Kill me at once. I beg you.” And held his head in his hands, sitting down before a wall. Having sat, he let his head fall between his knees, weeping. A few minutes passed. Then he raised his head slowly. A sudden idea had come to his mind. “But no one dies without a cause,” he mumbled.

In the morning, the children came back. They had set an appointment with a doctor. They knocked on the door and waited, but it did not get opened.

“He may have not gotten up yet,” said the daughter. “Knock again.”

It was not opened again; this time they knocked quickly and repeatedly.

“Dad, Dad! Open the door; it's us. Open up,” they cried. But no response came. They got more worried, and decided to break down the door. When they entered the house, it had been filled with smoke. There were three rooms in the house and each went to a different one.

“Dad is here...,” cried the younger son, “on his bed.” They rushed towards him. The older, hurriedly, put his ear on his chest.

He had died very soon...as he had been told.
© Copyright 2013 Hamid (hamidstory at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1916658-Destiny