..had his eyes set dead straight into hers. Despite the crowd, the mob, the packed mass of sweaty bodies nudging against each other to get to the stalls selling bottled water—their presence stood out. Their presence. I was standing about a meter away from where they sat on the rickety old fence, looking out on a view of the lush green hills where hundreds of picnic mats were laid and an abundance of food were being served to the hungry and tired faces of the people here. The yearly Summer Festival was one of the biggest and busiest events of the country. It was one of those things where everyone came to gather for the music, food and just the general atmosphere. Behind me, my ears picked up a song that sent shivers down my spine. It was our song—no, it used to be. I shut my eyes and tried to shake the feeling off. This song that I've grown to hate was triggering memories I've learnt to kept locked away.
God, why now?
At the hit of the drums, their eye contact broke and he turned right towards me as if he knew I was here all this while. Maybe he did. His sharp but seemingly empty hazel eyes resembled guns and I'm the obvious target. "I'm sorry.", he mouthed.
No, I'm sorry.
"I'm sorry." I watch him mouth once more. His voice was soft and barely a whisper. I didn't reply. I had no energy to. The bright, beaming fluorescent lights were blinding and I am only vaguely able to see his face. The only thing that filled the dark silence of the room were the sound of the beeping machines. Beep. Beep. Beep. So slow and so constant.
These machines help keep people alive yet you feel that with every beep, life is just slipping away from your grasp. Within the months of being here, I've asked the doctors that came in and out the same 3 questions.
Would it hurt? How fast would it be? How would it feel like?
In return, they replied the same answers. They all granted no pain but yet, as a doctor, they advised to keep fighting with hopes for a full recovery. What they didn't mention was that trying to keep hope strongly planted in you could be harder than battling the actual suffering.
"Are you ready?" A familiar voice asked. Standing by the foot of the bed, was the doctor. The one that came in the most compared to the others. The one I asked questions to the most often because he answered them with a proper sense and perception of reality—not mechanically, like he's forced to answer this awkward question that he's probably heard one too many times.
Then and there, I realise that it was going to be the last time I'd ever set my eyes on him. I won't be able to see him anymore. His laughs and smiles were now going to just be distant memories. We had our downhills, fought wars between each other as if we were sworn enemies and yet, here we are now. Together in a dull and sterile room that probably only contains the 0.1% of bacteria that detergents with 99.9% germ kill guarantee hadn't killed. My world was to be taken away from me and I couldn't do anything about it. But at the very least, this suffering would be taken away too. I slowly shut my eyes and nodded slightly. "Ready." The last beep was heard and nothing more after. Silence took hold of the room.
9.45 pm. 12/2/15. Gone.
I loosen the clench I had on the hospital's bed and turned to walk out, leaving the room with all the sadness that now have dawned upon myself. I couldn't stand to see him suffer. He now laid still, rigid and emotionless—but his face still showed the same liveliness he had. The same liveliness we shared. The one thing that truly brought us together and back together through everything. He's in a better place now.
And I'm sorry.
Sorry that I left when you were sick.
----
And bam. Who'd you think was actually going to die? Him or her? I'm not even sure if I wrote it out well though haha and whether it was obvious early on already...but am definitely going to try writing another story in this sort of way in the future.
Rereading this, I realise how random the story actually is lol. I only had an idea for the hospital part and not really for anything to broaden the story but I guess it is what it is. I'd write better next time.
If I were to break it down, it would go like this.
Dude + other girl together - Dude's actually sick but 'I' didn't know and had left him+was just angry at the sight of them - Dude & 'I' are now together again (after knowing what's wrong with him) but at the hospital because he got worse and the other girl left - Dude passes on and 'I' am sorry for leaving him back then.
And and to anybody who gets confused about the “The last time I saw her, he... part, I meant to write her and not him because I'm talking about the girl he was with and how the last time I saw her was when they were together. She wasn't there for him when he was in the hospital nearing his ends.
God, why now?
At the hit of the drums, their eye contact broke and he turned right towards me as if he knew I was here all this while. Maybe he did. His sharp but seemingly empty hazel eyes resembled guns and I'm the obvious target. "I'm sorry.", he mouthed.
No, I'm sorry.
"I'm sorry." I watch him mouth once more. His voice was soft and barely a whisper. I didn't reply. I had no energy to. The bright, beaming fluorescent lights were blinding and I am only vaguely able to see his face. The only thing that filled the dark silence of the room were the sound of the beeping machines. Beep. Beep. Beep. So slow and so constant.
These machines help keep people alive yet you feel that with every beep, life is just slipping away from your grasp. Within the months of being here, I've asked the doctors that came in and out the same 3 questions.
Would it hurt? How fast would it be? How would it feel like?
In return, they replied the same answers. They all granted no pain but yet, as a doctor, they advised to keep fighting with hopes for a full recovery. What they didn't mention was that trying to keep hope strongly planted in you could be harder than battling the actual suffering.
"Are you ready?" A familiar voice asked. Standing by the foot of the bed, was the doctor. The one that came in the most compared to the others. The one I asked questions to the most often because he answered them with a proper sense and perception of reality—not mechanically, like he's forced to answer this awkward question that he's probably heard one too many times.
Then and there, I realise that it was going to be the last time I'd ever set my eyes on him. I won't be able to see him anymore. His laughs and smiles were now going to just be distant memories. We had our downhills, fought wars between each other as if we were sworn enemies and yet, here we are now. Together in a dull and sterile room that probably only contains the 0.1% of bacteria that detergents with 99.9% germ kill guarantee hadn't killed. My world was to be taken away from me and I couldn't do anything about it. But at the very least, this suffering would be taken away too. I slowly shut my eyes and nodded slightly. "Ready." The last beep was heard and nothing more after. Silence took hold of the room.
9.45 pm. 12/2/15. Gone.
I loosen the clench I had on the hospital's bed and turned to walk out, leaving the room with all the sadness that now have dawned upon myself. I couldn't stand to see him suffer. He now laid still, rigid and emotionless—but his face still showed the same liveliness he had. The same liveliness we shared. The one thing that truly brought us together and back together through everything. He's in a better place now.
And I'm sorry.
Sorry that I left when you were sick.
----
And bam. Who'd you think was actually going to die? Him or her? I'm not even sure if I wrote it out well though haha and whether it was obvious early on already...but am definitely going to try writing another story in this sort of way in the future.
Rereading this, I realise how random the story actually is lol. I only had an idea for the hospital part and not really for anything to broaden the story but I guess it is what it is. I'd write better next time.
If I were to break it down, it would go like this.
Dude + other girl together - Dude's actually sick but 'I' didn't know and had left him+was just angry at the sight of them - Dude & 'I' are now together again (after knowing what's wrong with him) but at the hospital because he got worse and the other girl left - Dude passes on and 'I' am sorry for leaving him back then.
And and to anybody who gets confused about the “The last time I saw her, he... part, I meant to write her and not him because I'm talking about the girl he was with and how the last time I saw her was when they were together. She wasn't there for him when he was in the hospital nearing his ends.
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