***
My footsteps resounded along the hospital hallway as I walked. The faces of people around me sticking out in sharp contrast to the bland walls.
Some were happy, joyful. Most dismal.
As I neared the ward I was headed towards, the few happy faces became less and less frequent, turning into countless ones of distress and dismay. Once or twice you spotted a hopeful glimmer in someone’s eye, that made your day for that split second. However that hope was always gone after a second, no happiness lasted more than a heartbeat here.
No patient lasted more than a heartbeat here.
I stopped outside my destination, hands sweating as I mulled over what was going to take place. I knew the drill by now. After opening the door, I froze as the scent of the hospital room entered my nostrils; clean, fresh and penetrating.
I stopped from my walk as I saw a sight that had not been there yesterday. There was a new patient in this room for the damned. An old man lay tired in a crisp white hospital bed, the sheets drawn up to his wrinkled chin. He was chatting away happily to a young boy, probably his grandson. The two of them smiling, obviously enjoying each other’s company.
I saw the look in the boy’s eyes. He was happy and hopeful.
This boy had not been broken, not yet. I remembered when I had bore a look that resembled his.
“She doesn’t have much longer, I’m afraid, all we can do is make her comfortable at this point and hope for the best,” the doctor stated in a neutral voice, careful not to show any emotion on his face. It’s not like this doctor thought she was any different to the countless other patients he took charge of. To him, she was just another dying face.
To me, though, she was the world.
I nodded at the news, not really letting it sink in. I was still holding on to that faint glimmer of hope… to that light at the end of the tunnel.
I snapped out of my daze as the boy got up and kissed the old man on the cheek quickly, then walking out of the room.
The boy was not broken, not yet. But he would learn.
“Jake?” I heard a weak voice call from the other end of the room. I momentarily had forgotten about why I was there. That was a first.
Slowly I made my way over to her bed, spying her pale white face and blood shod eyes. She looked tired, so very tired. I took her usual cold hand and pressed it against my warm face, trying to transfer some of my heat to her. I knew though, that it would never be enough.
“Hey mom,” I muttered, kissing her on the cheek.
