Do Not Click Do Not Click Do Not Click

By Taylor Adair

I sat, slumped over on a chair, waiting for the Doctors verdict. Mum kept telling me to sleep, but how can you sleep when the life of a loved one is slipping away from you?
Just thinking about it made me feel sick, or maybe it was that lingering hospital smell, which would take days to wash off my skin. I glanced over at Mum, she was the same as when we first heard the news; pale, disheartened and tired.
Suddenly the doctor came through the door. Mum shot out of her seat.
“Yes, you may see him now.”
Mum rushed through the double doors. I rose slowly from my seat to find my legs shaking. I looked over at the doctor; he had a grave expression on his face.
I crossed slowly over to the doors and then into a white washed room, where a man lay on a bed. I barely recognized him. That was my fun, loving, active Dad, and there he lay with tubes up his nose and his face twisted by pain.
I reached out with a trembling hand and lightly touched his face. It was cold. I gave a silent cry of surprise and grief. I looked over to where Mum and the doctor we talking. They spoke in hushed whispers but what I picked up ensured what I dreaded.
“Deadly, Suffering and Not much longer.”
These and other words made the hot tears spring to my eyes. The water splashed down onto my fathers motionless face, but still his eyes did not open.
“Dear come here a moment wont you?” Mum called. I couldn’t move my feet, like they currently had a mind of their own.
“Dear?” She came over and took me by the hand and walked with me back out into the waiting room. I hesitated, I wanted to ask what the matter was but I was to afraid to hear the answer. Finally Mum broke the silence.
“Sweetie, I’m afraid it’s worse than what we thought.” She tried to look strong, for my sake, but I saw right though the disguise “it’s not just unconsciousness; he’s slipped into a coma. The doctor said it could only be a small scare, but the most likely out come will be permanent brain damage. You may hate me doing this now but in the long term it will be better for everyone….”
“What will be?” I asked with an unsteadiness voice. She paused and looked up with such a sad and sorrowful face my heart twinged.
“The doctor said that even if he wakes up, his life will be ruled by pain. It would be crueller to keep him alive.” She stuttered.
I remembered the face that had been so twisted in pain and I wanted to scream and yell. It wasn’t fair! I knew what was coming next.
“Giving him an *euthanasia is the best way to do it.” She said though tears.
“But can’t we just wait and see if he gets better? We can’t just give up on him!!” I cried, feeling the same hot tears spring to my eyes again and roll down my face. I knew my words had no meaning, we both knew he couldn’t get better. But I let my heart dare to hope. Mum held hand my tight and spoke to me with soothing words.
We walked in to see Him one last time. I looked upon that face and tried to remember a happier time before the accident. A time where he could hug me and make me feel better, or play with me until our sides hurt from laughing. But my mind was blank. All I saw were the tubes and sheet white face.
I felt like the whole world was slipping out of balance and I was now living in some alternate universe: where nothing made sense, but it didn’t have to because it wasn’t really real. That’s what this was, I suddenly thought, it’s all a dream. I waited for myself to wake up. But I didn’t, the pain was still there and so was I.
I tried not to watch as they took the live from my father.
Why do they do it? Why do people drive drunk when they know it brings so much pain and suffering? Why do some people have no heart? How can people like that sleep at night?
And why did it have to be my Dad their recklessness took?

Brian Falkner Books