\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1456184-My-Death
Item Icon
Rated: 18+ · Other · Dark · #1456184
Don't waste time
My Death



The creepiest part about winter, to me, is the silence. You can pretty well hear ever noise the world decides to give out. Sometimes it's happy noises. Children playing in the snow, people joking about someone slipping on the ice... happy things. However, sometimes it's things you don't want to hear. Tonight I heard the most heart wrenching sound I've ever heard. It was screaming. Loud, please help me God kind of screaming. The sound of someone obviously in pain. But, there was nothing I could do to help them, because I was dying myself. Though, maybe if I had done something sooner, I could have stopped it. But I didn't and I couldn't. It was too late.

Do you know what the strangest part about dying is? The amount of everything and nothing you feel at the same time. All the memories of your life come flashing before your eyes, but when Death's touched you with his cold hand, you go numb. No more love, no more hate or even comfort or pain. Just numb. That's what I felt anyway. It was as though I was falling into a great void I will
never be able to crawl back out of. Just nothing.

It turns out the screaming I hear is my of the past twelve years and my six year old son. My daughter, who had the sweetest smile, died about six months ago. God I missed her. But I don't seem to feel that anymore. I just feel nothing.

When they found me, it wasn't a bloody mess. I don't think so anyway. I don't really remember. I do remember, though, a loud, sharp noise for a split second, then silence. How cant the silence be so deafening?

I do hear someone talking, but it's not my wife or son's voice. It's my father. Dad! Dad, can you hear me? This is not your fault. This isn't anybodies fault. Not even my own. He sounds so distant. It sounds like his voice is breaking up. Is he crying? no, he couldn't be. I've never seen him cry. Not even when my daughter, his own granddaughter died.

I can almost still taste the dry pill that's inside of my throat. But I know it's not there. I already washed it down with some wine. I would have figured it would be much darker by now, but not yet. Perhaps there's still some life left in me. It should be getting dark and cold soon enough though. Damn, I'm tired and I just want to go to sleep.

Who is that now? Maybe the coroner. It's the paramedics. I hear them saying something about how they may be able to save me. Please don't let that be the case. I did this for a reason and they'll find out soon enough when they find the note. Where did I put it? Oh wait. It's in my back pocket. It's there along with my final wish list and personalized letters to each one of my family members. I really hope they don't hate me.

What the hell was that? My whole body just moved. Mayber it's finally time for me to leave this world behind. There it was again. The emt's must be using them shock things on me. I could tell they already put a breather on me. I hate technology while I was living. Now I just don't care. It's not going to work, but let them try. Let them play the role of the hero and then fail and go home feeling like failures. I'm the one who slipped through there fingers.

I heard one of them say they're taking me to the hospital now and I heard my father ask if I'll be alright. They said there's a chance, but it looks grim. Damn fools, they have no idea how bleak the chances are. There are no chance.

Then I started thinking about my daughter again. Only this time I was thinking about how my mother used to hold her. I loved her, too. If only they had better methods of ridding the body of cancer. We lost her about a year ago. My God how I miss them both.

Wait, what are they doing? I can tell they're picking me up and putting me on something. I hear machines now. I must be on the ambulance. I hear them moving around and I can hear my father asking them questions. He's still asking them if I'm going to be okay. He did always care like that. I'm going to miss him. We had some fun times together.

Hey! What are those bright lights? Is it heaven? No. Must have been shining one of those pen lights in my eyes. My doctor did that to me once when I got a piece of glass stuck in my eye. That hurt, as you could imagine.

My breaths are getting shorter now. I know the time is getting closer. Finally I can hug my daughter and mother again and never leave there side, forever.

Who are you? I can feel deaths cold hand on me now. It's time. Everything is fading into the distance. I can hear one last thing and that's the paramedics saying they've lost me. I felt me stop breathing and I can now see the bright lights ahead. It's time to go now.
© Copyright 2008 Michael Vincent Hall, Jr. (mikeyth at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1456184-My-Death