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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Death · #982105
the choices of a woman concerning her life...
         The ceiling was an unwashed white over my head. I closed my eyes in temporary relief. I painfully opened them again and wish I had not done so. Hovering nearby was my mother’s stricken face. Wisps of gray hair curled around her face. For a few moments I was fascinated by the grayness. As I came back to myself more fully I noticed the unshed tears in my mother’s eyes.
         I’m sorry,” I whispered. I saw a few tears slid down her hallow cheeks and knew that she hadn’t been eating properly again. What I didn’t know was how long it had been going on.
         How long?” I whispered when I saw her shake her head and wipe her tears away.
         “A year.” Her voice broke on the two words. I closed my eyes. It pained me to think. Against any warning I could have had I had to ask.
         “What happened?” I saw my mother reach for something and a few moments later the room went black and I slipped in the unknown.

*

**


         There was a clash of metal. I think I heard myself scream. I heard his voice through a haze. Words made no sense at all for me. I could only think of the blood that pooled on my lap. I screamed again. I couldn’t seem to stop screaming. I felt the sting of a knife against my cheek. I shivered. I could hear him murmuring in my ear. Hot tears were sliding freely down my cheeks. He grabbed me by the collar of my coat. I stopped crying and screaming. I felt oddly detached. I turned my face toward him. I could now comprehend the words. “I love you. I don’t want anyone to touch you as I do. I know what you did. I won’t lose you to him.” I felt the cold iron of the knife slid into my belly.

*

**


         I gasped. In the dim light I could see a figure lying in the bed parallel to mine in the semi-private hospital room. The patient’s breathing was coming in shallow breath. I could hear her moaning a few words. My eyes wandered to the table near the head of my bed. An envelope was there, unopened. I was going to roll away from it when my eye caught sight of the yellow roses that lay on top of it. In the dimness I hadn’t realized at first what they were. A muffled scream came out unbidden.
         “Meagan.” My name was a whisper. I could see it printed in his bold writing. With trembling hands I slowly took the letter and opened it. I knew that my future was contained in the sprawled lines of this letter.

*

**


         “Can’t you see, Meagan? It’s his writing! Keith has left without you! He doesn’t love you at all! He doesn’t want a woman who can die at any moment! Not I, love, I’ll be by your side till your last breath.”

*

**


         As I read Keith’s letter once more, I suddenly realized that I wouldn’t see him again. Not because he couldn’t stand my frail condition. No it was because he couldn’t be with me. Something kept him from me.

*

**


         His cold hands teared at the flesh from my wrists and arms. His fist was hard against my ribs, forcing the blade deeper still. As the blackness tried to lay claim on my conscious mind, I felt the man’s hands sag against me and pull away. Turning my head toward my aggressor, I could spy another figure that had added itself to the first one, pulling it away from me. A moan escaped my lips and I fainted, hearing my name on my rescuer’s lips.

*

**


         I stood in the doorway of his room. The rest of my scrambled thoughts had came together to solve the puzzle a few hours preceding the dawn. On shaky legs I had made my way to the nurses’ station and made a scene until they lead me to him. My rescuer, my only love. Keith. Grief engulfed me, making me silent as I watched what was left of him.
         He was hooked onto a dozen different machines. This wasn’t the man who had fathered the babe that I had carried in my womb. My hand went to my stomach, now empty of the life it had carried. With a pang I remembered the iron knife that had took from me that beloved new life.
         I crept to the bed, laying a hand on his forehead. I traced a finger down his cheek to the base of his neck, where his heartbeat beat with weakness. Quiet sobs shook my body. From behind, I heard someone clear his voice.
         “Did you know him?” Dr. Tyler asked coming to stand behind me.
         “We were to get married.” My voice was hoarse.
         “Did he know about..” the doctor faltered but I knew what he was talking about.
         “Yes. Will he survive?” I returned the conversation to the matter at hand.
         “It is impossible to say. He is in a coma, and his pulse is weak.”
         “I have heard about mercy killing.” I whispered.
         “Yes, we sometimes use it to end the life of our patient that desire it to be ended and we can do nothing for them. To free them from pain.”
         “Is it possible to use it on him?”
         “We have considered it, but we found none of his relatives to whom we may have the consent.”
         “You have mine. I was about to become his only relative.”
         The doctor looked at me with wide eyes, his face contorted with surprise, but only for a moment. After the moment had passed he became once more the physician that had saved my life countless time. I turned toward him and whispered. “Next attack do not bother to bring me back.” With a last glance toward my loved one I walked out the room, out when the only man I could love was about to die, at my word. I kept my head high for I knew that I would not let him wait long for me.
© Copyright 2005 Steph T (weirdtwin86 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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