Walk In Peace

I’ve almost forgotten how long I’ve been lying in this bed. My memory has become more and more hazy, but I was sure I had been in the room for more than a few weeks now. Weeks. That’s longer than I’ve ever even stayed in the same town. I’ve always been the “see everything” kind of guy, one who just couldn’t seem to rest. Over the more recent years I went to some of my list of places, but that list has been long unfulfilled. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to experience as much as this world has to offer. Kind of interesting how it ended up for me.

So in the hospital I was, left to lay there for god knows how long. I was a rather healthy male, which is the most surprising part of it. My parents were never holders of any severe diseases. Both of them had suffered a heart attack because of their progressing age, but everyone has their time, don’t they? My father had survived his, but my mother had passed. I loved them both, but I’m not going to go into their stories, as they hold no use to talk about now.

The time was short, and I knew my own was coming. I was only twenty six at the time, but that didn’t stop my disease. It angered me how deceiving and untrustworthy the “doctors” could be. They kept telling me I was fine, that the sickness would pass as any other. Even as it got worse, they would just force more vaccines and medications on me. I doubt it was actually anything, as I had heard news about those placebo tricks. I guess my over-thinking paid off, in a way.

They would talk about me, the doctors. Did they think I had lost my senses? I guess so, but what more can a man lying in bed do than listen and observe his environment? My illness had not drained my sight or hearing, only induced headaches and weakness. They would sometimes leave the patient reports on table next to my bed. I would read them, of course, especially when I had learned what illness I contracted.

It was a new disease, a rare one. There had been few reported cases around the world, but they hadn’t found a cure for any of the cases. Most couldn’t even tell they were sick until they were diagnosed, they only felt randomly weakened and had severe head pain at times. Come to think of it, they had probably been testing various attempts of cure on me, but clearly none of them had worked.

I was never put into a panic when I learned of my illness. I just accepted it. What’s the use of resistance? Denying my state would only make my life a lie, one that I really didn’t have. I felt rather hopeless, and of course depressed. I had ones that cared, more than I thought actually. I met with all of them, cried with all of them, and said goodbye to all of them. I told some of them that I was going to be okay, but I was never a good liar.

I got to the point that I had cried enough. Most days I lied in my room’s bed, thinking. I thought of all kinds of subjects, but places were my greatest interest. I thought of some of the places I had been, but most of my attention drew to where I hadn’t been to, the places I would never get the chance to see. Would I have any other image than the one of this room? My thoughts turned to how this is the last way I would want to die. It’s not a matter I would turn my attention to a lot, but I could see myself dying from a long fall, an accident on a trip. Maybe a plane crash. Not young, after lying in a hospital bed for weeks.

I became most depressed at that point. My head began to ache intensely. I didn’t know exactly when it was coming, but it would be soon. That moment where I would see everything flash, and then go dark. Through the pain, however, a new picture formed in my mind. A picture that was beautiful, an image I could take with me when I go. I needed to see it, though. I needed to travel one last time before my time came. I wasn’t going to die in that bed!

I felt a quick shot of pain in my wrist as I ripped the i.v. from my arm. Sure, it would cause damage, but what did it matter with my already approaching death? I quickly stood up from my bed to my feet, and immediately felt weak and disoriented. “Keep going”, I told myself. There weren’t machines keeping me alive, so I was okay leaving the room. Time was the only problem. I took my first step, the first I had done since coming here. It was slow, challenging, but ever so empowering. I felt like I was still alive, like I still had time.

Two, three, four more steps. With each movement of my foot I felt stronger, like I was when I had hiked mountains. Another shot of pain in my head reminded me that I needed to move quickly. I began to walk consistently, until I had left my room.

Two doctors outside immediately commanded me to go back, to rest. I turned my back to them and continued to walk, without a single acknowledgment of their existence. They had been lying and using me all this time, so there wasn’t a chance I would let them stop me. They caught up to me and pulled me back, and with quick force I shoved them away. From there, I quickened my pace. I knew where I needed to go, but how I would get there was something I needed to think of, fast.

I spotted an elevator at the end of the hall, and I began to run, or a least as much as I could. It hurt at first, but my progress and determination left me blind to the pain in my body. As I was coming close, an officer strolled around the corner in front of the elevator. The two doctors on my trail yelled at him to stop me. He listened, and raised his arms in front of me as I approached him. He took a hold of me for a moment, but I managed to throw him aside with some struggle. I looked at him on the ground to make sure I didn’t harm him, but I resumed my speed as I watched him crawl to his feet.

I reached the elevator and selected the switch to the top floor. The waiting was difficult. Stopping my pace drained me of my adrenaline, and I felt like I could collapse at any moment. The image in my head kept me up, knowing that I was close to finishing one last journey. I was lucky. My room was close to the top floor, so I didn’t need to wait too long.

I exited the elevator with a stumble, and then scanned for the stairs to the roof. I didn’t have much time to look, as I knew those doctors were following, possibly in greater numbers. After wandering the top floor for a few minutes, I located an unknown, but promising door. I pushed through it, and was greeted with a promising, yet dreadful sight: stairs.

A quick shot of pain surged through my head as I thought of the task. My body could barely handle an elevator. How could it bear traversing stairs? I silenced the thoughts of doubt, as my determination was one of the only factors keeping me alive now. It wasn’t a long staircase, around fifteen steps, but each was a moment of agony. I tripped on the last step, leaving me on my knees. It took every ounce of strength left in me to pull me back to my feet, for which I felt crippled as I stood. None of it mattered. I had only potential minutes left. I pushed the last door open at the top of the stairs, and all my thoughts ceased.

I was first blinded by a light, but my body was then welcomed to a pleasurable warmth. Not the warmth of a heater like in my room, but the warmth of the world, the outside.

My eyes adjusted to the new light, and then I saw it: the picture. I first noticed the sun on the horizon, halfway covered by the city skyline, which I saw next. I walked closer to the railing of the rooftop, to where the image became greater. I saw buildings, streets, cars, all brightly shaded by the closing sun. It all reminded me of the photography I had enjoyed, pictures of the city I would collect as a young child. My eyes turned above. It was still bright out, it was later in the day to where the first stars can be seen. The few clouds in the sky were lit by the light of the sunset, showing themselves as streams of fire.

The pain had faded as I first saw the sight. It was amazing, the most memorable moment I had ever seen. It was the end of what felt to be a long, painful journey, but it had been well worth it. The pain soon returned, more intense then ever, to where I fell again to my knees. This time, I wouldn’t get up. It was okay, though. My task was done. I continued to view the sight with all the vision and time I had left. I smiled as I fell backwards, picturing every piece of the image to where I could still see it all.

I lied on the rooftop. The doctors and officer barged through the door I came through. It was over. I had accomplished my goal. It was then where I began to see a light, more intense than the sunset I had just witnessed. My eyes began to close, not by my own will, but from the weakness of my body. My time was over, and I couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend the last of it.

I guess this would be the moment where they would say “rest in peace”, but I was never one to rest. I was meant to walk the earth, to see what it had to offer. I had never thought much about life after death, but if it does exist, I plan to walk it’s lands, free to find an image greater than the last one I saw.