You Only Die Once

A young man discovers something inside. 1/52 4.18.16

            Matthew sat in the hospital waiting room quietly. The watch hands barely changed between the times he checked it. To make matters worse he was the only person waiting. The only one amongst the long rows of sterile stainless steel chairs that was bolted into the same sterile feeling room. He lowered his head and imagined patterns using the white and black-checkered tiles upon the floor. The more details he noticed, the stranger the moment seemed. Matthew’s father came through the doors separating the waiting room.

           

“Dad. What’s going on?”

 

“The doctor said your grandmother doesn’t have much time. She’s weak and barely breathing.”

 

“Does she want to see me?”

 

“Of course she does Matt”

            He stood up and checked himself over, then looked at his watch again. He was ashamed that he’d taken so long to get to the hospital in the first place. He didn't want anyone to think he didn’t care. A nurse who stood at the door let them into the inner area. They walked down to a door at the end of the hallway and his father stopped just short of opening it. He stood there in silence.

            “Dad, is everything okay?”

 

            “Yes,” he said while turning the handle and opening the door. “Marsha... Dear, is she?”

           

            “She just passed Hank. My mother just died.” Marsha sobbed while holding the lifeless body’s hand in hers.

 

            “I’m sorry honey.”

            Matt watched as his Father walked over to console his broken wife. He watched the tears stream down and stain her pink silk shirt, some leaving streaks in her makeup along the way. He glanced at the body and considered that she, mere moments ago, was his Grandma. Now though, she was a corpse decaying as time went on. Multi-colored wires were strewn about connecting to the same place. All leading to Dorris; Ninety year old Dorris, her face pale and absent of color, her once beautiful eyes now glossed over and sunken in.

            He stumbled forward. A loud beep noise caught his attention and he noticed a machine, lines unmoving on the display off to the side of the bed. Flat-line, he thought. A surreal moment that had made its impression. “Grandma, sorry I didn’t make it back in time; sorry I haven’t been around for the last few years” he whispered. Over the crying of his mother he could hear the nurse behind him whispering.

           

            “We have a flat-line here. She signed a no-resuscitation request before she passed. Let’s give them some time, but notify the morgue.”

            A nurse in pink scrubs, who was trying to be polite, moved across the room and flipped a switch on the side of the machine and the noise stopped. She disconnected the wires from it and rolled the cart slowly to the door and stopped just short of leaving. “Please, take all the time you need. I’ll be right down the hall at the nurse’s station when you need me.” She paused and looked over toward my mother. “I’m sorry for your loss. I see it often in my line of work, but I mean it every time. I’m truly sorry.” As soon as the door closed behind her my mother began to cry harder.

            Matt didn’t know what he was supposed to do, or feel. He had never known someone who died; a dead body lying there. He had never even been to a funeral, he thought. His father looked over and he joined the rest of his family huddled around the bed. His father grabbed him in a tight embrace with his free arm, the other used to rub his wife’s back. Matt felt like a kid again. An eight-year-old boy wrapped in the comfort of his dad. A sudden rush of tears welled in him. He could feel it from the center of his body. The shockwaves of emotion flooded all at once and he felt as if death was calling on him. He could feel his life slipping. With blurry vision and body loosing feeling, he reached for something sturdy.

            Running on instinct he grabbed for the closest thing he could grasp. His hand went for the railing on the side of the bed, but instead he grabbed his grandma’s hand. Another shockwave exploded through him, but this time he became ultra-focused. “The pretty angels… Let me die,” he heard just before he felt his head slam on something. He was confused between the calls for a nurse and his father who was calling his name repeatedly. He fought to stay awake, but could no longer make out what was happening.

 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

            Matthew could hear a faint noise around him. There was a fog over him, but he still tried to fight through it.

 

“Doctor, is he going to be okay?”

 

“He should be just fine in a few days. He hit his head pretty hard. He doesn’t appear to have a concussion, however tell him to take it easy and come back if he’s experiencing any issues.”

 

“I will. It’s been a few hours, when do you think he’ll wake up?”

Matthew cleared his throat. “Dad,” he said softly

 

            “Matt! Are you okay?” His father rushed to matt’s side and held him close.

 

 

 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

            “We are gathered here today to mourn the death of Doris Smith. She passed away a week ago, but her memory lives on in her daughter, Ella Smith, and her son, Matthew Smith. Ella would like to say a few things, then there will be a viewing.”

            The gathered crowd watched as Ella walked to the podium. She looked around and raised the box of tissues in her hands, then placed them in front of her. “Doris,” she sniffled and continued, “Was my mother. She was a sweet woman who gave everything she had to charity, and helped others more than she cared for herself.” She sobbed quietly while the eyes of the crowd watched her.

            Matt watched as his father went to the podium and escorted his wife down to her seat next to him. It was strange, he thought, to be in a building mourning the loss of someone he cared about. He imagined what it would be like to see her body preserved and then the casket closed before being buried in the ground forever.

            His view had changed from when it was at the hospital. He knew what he heard and he wondered if his parents did too. His thoughts weren’t clear and his head hurt, but he remembered… “Let me die”. The whispers alerted the hairs on the back of his neck. He replayed it in his head a few times and tried to refocus back to reality. The harder he thought the fiercer his headache felt.

           

“Come Matt, lets say goodbye.”

           

Matt walked slowly behind his mother and father. Apprehension built and the words echoed louder. Let me die, he repeated over and over under his breath. And there he was, standing between his parents, viewing her face again. He wanted to look away, but couldn’t gather the strength. His head pounded harder, his hand reached out toward her. His arm shook as it inched closer to her forehead. He could feel all his strength pulling back, trying to stop. “Matthew,” he heard in her voice, her eyes staring at him. His body began to violently shake and he collapsed in his father’s arms. “She’s alive,” people screamed. The last thing he heard was a siren.

 

Author's Note

Im Writing 52 short stories in 52 weeks. This is number one.

Reviews

[Shannon]

An interesting story for sure. Sometimes the reveal can be tricky. All the references to time and watches or watching really appealed in the first section.

[James Whitefall]

I really appreciate you taking the time to review my work. Since this is the first short story in my 52 week challenge, I'm hoping that readers will be able to spot my growth. I'm also hoping that I'll be able to spot it as well. Thanks again,
James

[Shannon]

I am not terribly skilled. But always willing to help and be helped. Feel free to message if ever want more ideas or to bounce ideas.