The Ride

Take a ride on the coaster and it'll be your last, of course that is the plan with this special Doctor approved roller coaster for the terminally ill. Follow one mans ride as he tells his tale.

The ride of your life...

He waited in line patiently, it wasn't a big line by any means, but long enough for the woman in front of him to need to sit down and take a long drag from her oxygen tank. That would soon be taken away, no longer needed for where they were headed. He wiped his mouth with his bandana seeing the red stains. The coaster was new to the park, it was actually the first time anyone would be riding it, first and last ride for all passengers, this was because the coaster was specially for people with a life expectancy of less than a month. The few souls who had fought the best they could against their disease but could no longer take the treatments, the fact was everyone in the line was dying or already dead. The coaster had been created as a humane way to allow the ones marked for death to die with a feeling of bliss, an escape from their everyday pain. They could ride The Ride that from start to finish only lasted a mere three minutes and four seconds, however no one that rode ever would last that long. After a minute with no blood to their brains they would simply start to fall asleep and never wake up. 
The ride had been quite the controversy when it was first brought to the public's attention. Help up in courtrooms by family members, doctors, strangers that felt their opinions all mattered more than those who were going through all the pain and agony on a day-to-day basis. Their words, those of the doomed, had gone unheard because the claims of the living who still hung on to a false hope that someday their loved ones would be better, healthier, it was selfish really when it got down to it. 
It wasn't until a man from Texas took the stand at the highest court proceeding possible and was able to tell his story. He had lived and loved, fought in a war, came back healthy as a horse. It wasn't until later on in his life that he was diagnosed with a disease that was slowing eating away at his insides. He went on to tell the people listening, the rare case that allowed the public in, the television reporters to film inside the court room all to hear his story. They all sat silently listening to all he had to tell them about how it felt each and every morning to struggle to breathe. To try and suck in air, to try and eat solid foods, to laugh, to touch his loved ones. How his insides felt as the minutes turned into hours and the hours got longer and longer, the doctors could no longer help, it was spreading and there was no stopping it. 
The people listened, their eyes filling with tears and they let them freely fall down their cheeks. Listened as he spoke carefully each word clawing at his throat as he spoke. He stopped every few words to spit into a plastic bottle that the man kept on him all the time. The content he normally covered up with a koozie he left open for all to see the deep dark red and chunky contents that tore off his throat as he spoke.
"The pain is indescribable" he started, "something no would be able to describe unless they felt it. The best I can put it is having your skin ripped off slowly. Feeling the tearing centimeters at a time, like little paper cuts opening up at all angles. Picture this if you can. As a boy I would pretend I was swimming with sharks in the oceans staying in the bath way too long. Once I stayed in the water too long and my hands bloated up, they started to crack and bleed. I was scared, yelled for my mother and she explained what had happened and that I would be okay. The pain would eventually end and my fingers would heal. If you have ever got a paper cut you know how horrible such a small cut can feel like, now picture that happening all over your body on the inside and out." He took off his gloves very slowly, the drying blood on his fingertips sticking making the pain rise as he managed to get it off. He showed the people his hands, his fingertips nubs of battered skin breaking at the seams. "They bleed constantly, they rip wide open and there is nothing I can do about it." He stood up carefully lifting his shirt showing the blood red stained bandages around his abdomen. "The doctors say I am lucky to be alive this long but I am not alive. I can't do anything without ripping open. You all look at me with sympathy in your eyes and I can tell you I don't want nor need it. I have accepted my fate and I am ready to die. No doctors, friends, or family members or government should get to tell me how I should get to live my last few days on this Earth. Until all of you can deal with the pain and suffering we, the dying, go through on a daily basis, stop your selfish acts because honestly that is all is boils down to. We can not live for you just to make you feel better, let go and take yourself out of the equation, feel what we feel. With The Ride there is no more pain. I ask you to let us go. Let us have that one last moment of pure joy and happiness." He coughed again spewing more chunks into the bottle. He looked around at the faces all around him, no a dry eye in the place, the healthy and sick together in one room wiping their eyes. A man on the healthy side finally stood up and clapped his tears falling off his cheeks. Suddenly a group around him stood up and joined in. 
The Judge rang his gravel down three times; everyone in the room quieted and sat waiting to hear what was going to be said. The Judge looked at the man on the stand next to him and nodded slowly. "You have made some good points here today. Normally I would have to say no to this, that it is a form of committing suicide and that would be wrong and against the law." He looked around the room before continuing, "However with the testimony I just heard before the court I am granting you and anyone else who is just as sick as you to take The Ride." He was interrupted as everyone in the courtroom started talking and yelling at once. "Enough!" He said as he slammed down his gravel. He waited for the room to go silent again before continuing, "With a medical examination from a qualified doctor, one that will specialize in only this area, they will run every test possible to be sure there is no hope left before giving the medical bracelet to the person who will ride The Ride. Only a person with the bracelet will be admitted into that portion of the park. 
And with that he slammed down his judgment making it finally legal in the eyes of the court.
So here they stood one of the first riders but not the last for sure. He waited his turn to sit on, he looked up at the track riding high into the sky, the swirls he would soon be taking not knowing exactly which swirl would be his last and the excitement filled him. He was ready as he climbed into his chair, strapped into his safety belts. He took out his bandana and wiped at his mouth as the carts climbed high into the sky, once at the top the carts stalled for just a moment. The man raised his arm holding the bandana, the wind picking it up and taking it from his hand. The man smiled as wide as he could just as the cart tilted forward. The smile never left his face.

Author's Note

Something a little different

Reviews

[blue cave]

I really like the premise here and share the sentiments you express. I found myself craving a more detailed description of this ride, but overall and interesting read. Thank you for sharing.

[Lastwords187]

I'll see what I can do with the more description about the ride. Thanks for the comment.