Life and Death Go Hand in Hand

Life and Death Go Hand in Hand

Her

Appearing in a strikingly bright white room, I noticed a woman lying there, an exhausted, heaving animal desperate for the pain to end. And yet beautiful. The contraptions lined up against the wall whirred away unnoticed by all. I approached the brave creature as she pushed. Breathed. And Pushed. The woman’s hair had been plastered to her face and I felt remorseful that I had never realised how difficult this was. Then she did something that no one has before. She looked at me. No, she gazed into me as if everything-the doctors, the ward, the pain-had melted away around us and we were the only things left. I saw something change in her eyes. She’d looked scared at first but now there was something else.

Hope.

Our connection was shattered as I felt a change in the atmosphere. There was a presence. Something oh so familiar, yet I couldn’t figure out what. A doctor burst past me, clambering for medication. Charts. Life. But the woman was no longer afraid. I was intrigued by this as these weren’t the usual emotions I observed in these women. Weaving gently between the rush of the room, I looked at one of those charts. It was a personal file on her. Most of it seemed unimportant, dates, names, statistics; but at the bottom there were a few words that stood out. Four pregnancies-including current. Three miscarriages.

Hope always was the most stubborn emotion.

The words didn’t mean much to me, but the emotion they possessed allowed me to understand. She too understood. For she had seen me. I moved towards her and embraced the baby as it slipped into this world. Then I cradled her as she cradled him. He sang to his mother like a songbird desperate to be heard. And I saw a passion in him which compelled me to say something.

‘His soul is beautiful’ Once again she turned her head and looked deep into my essence.

‘…Th-thank you…’

I couldn’t help but smile, as I disengaged myself from her. She looked the happiest a person ever could in their life. In the back of my head the cogs in my brain whirled and a thought was washed up onto the shore of my mind. Where was the father?

Just before I disappeared I saw a doctor look quizzically towards her.

‘Who are you talking to?’

Him

I’ve been standing in this dull, grey hall for about an hour now.

Some souls are more resilient than others.

A few empty beds were lined up against the meagre mise-en-scene of the place, but the only bed that was occupied contained an elderly man in his late 70s. There was a young intern in the corner and a doctor filling out paperwork with his headphones in. It was then that I realised why I was scheduled to be here. The only other person there, was someone who I presumed to be his son; I’d been watching him traipse up and down, up and down this corridor as if sitting still would kill him.

He had no idea what was coming. Well, actually I suppose he was so nervous because he knew exactly what was coming. However, it isn’t my job to feel guilty. I watched him mope into the room one last time before he gave in to his caffeine urges and left for the temptress calling his name. It was like the guilt was scrawled across his face with blunt knife. I was surprised to notice that I felt the same.

Sometimes if you tell yourself something enough times, you start to believe it.

Unfortunately, he’d mistimed his little craving. It was inevitable. The second he left, his dad relapsed. The machines squawked manically, frantically trying to grab somebody, anybody’s, attention. The first to notice was the intern who just gave the patient a rabbit-in-the-headlights look and froze.

There’s a funny thing I’ve noticed with humans. They always seem to fail at the moment when they’re needed most.

Finally, the gentleman doctor turned around and yelled at the intern. He didn’t dwell on dealing out his punishment however, as he immediately sprang into action towards the twisting convulsing mess on the bed. He yanked the bed out of its space and knocked the door as if he were a bowling ball and it the pins. I tailed the doctor in his futile attempt to save the man’s life. He continued to shout commands like the captain of a ship, and just as he finally managed to sloppily steer the bed into theatre, the man’s son came running up. He dropped his coffee and ran through the doors despite the nurses cries of outrage and opposition. I glanced behind me before I followed the scene.

What a waste of coffee.

Strolling into the theatre I saw the poor boy with his hands pressed against the window that was the dull guard between him and his father. A silent tear rolled down his cheek and his eyes shone, puffy and red as he tried to tell them that what he was seeing wasn't real. You could see his hope splintering and his heart fracturing. I walked into the theatre and lurked surreptitiously in the corner, watching the doctors’ hack the man’s body apart trying to stop the unstoppable.

I suppose it isn’t just me who doesn’t enjoy this part.

The machine let out one last relinquished sigh. And then it fell into my division. The surgeons filed out of the room, one by one, as I walked up to the corpse. He turned his head to me and I said the same thing I always did.

‘I’m sorry.’ A weary smile flickered across his face. As he replied I realised that humans never cease to amaze me, as all he said was:

‘Don’t be.’ Just as quickly as his smile flickered onto his face, his soul flickered away. I closed his eyes. A mere sign of respect was all I could offer. It was then that I caught sight of the son, still standing there against the glass. A surgeon joined him and I'm assuming he told him the obvious because after, he collapsed against the wall. Against my better nature, I went to him.

He was muttering to himself,

'I'm supposed to be with my wife...she's having my...my baby' my heart plunged which shocked and confused me. I didn’t realise it could do that. I've been around for a long time, but this is the first time that's happened. But there was nothing I could do. I left him alone, confused and trying to sort out the disarray in his mind.

I didn’t have long to spend thinking of the boy before a new thought alerted me. There was someone else about.

Someone like me.

Her

I smiled to myself as I drifted down the hospital corridors, watching the nurses soothe mothers who in turn soothed their children. That's when I felt it again. Something that sent a shiver through me, or rather someone.

I can't comprehend why this presence had such an effect on me, but once my eyes had caught onto him I realised. He wore a suave black suit, tailored to his lean, athletic figure. His short black hair swept across his deep, chocolate, tortured eyes.

I laughed to myself, because from experience, I knew; it truly is the most damaged people who are the wisest.

He was sauntering down the corridor. And I was captivated. Then he saw me.

Him

I was falling back into my melancholic state when she appeared, like a mirage of hope in a desert. I couldn't explain it. It was like she was gliding through the people.

And I was transfixed by the way she moved. Her white dress and blonde, shimmering hair floating as if being teased by an invisible pool of water. Then her pure, crystal blue eyes locked with mine.

Don’t you agree, that when you’re missing someone the ache never leaves till they return?

Her eyes caressed my body as she came toward me and a smile danced its way across her face. She lifted her hand to my face and I relaxed into her.

‘Hello Death, my dear.’

‘Hello Life, my old friend.’