Life of Death (21+)

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EganTheVile1

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#1  Edited By EganTheVile1

I sit silently in a hospital waiting room, awaiting my name to be called, awaiting my oppurtunity to move through the halls, I am here complaining about a cough, one that has lead to me seeking medical attention, I have spent the last month coughing up blood and mucus, my chest pains and fatigue have brought me to a state of panic and concern, and now I wait, to be guided from one place of waiting to another, a place where I shall await death. I have come here for the sole purpose of death, I know it is inevitable, a fate all must meet, and it is my time to contribute to it, I know this far too well. I am cold, and silent as I stare at the sterile white walls and floors, a voice speaks to me as I hack up poison from my lungs.

"Are you contagious?"

"No" I respond,  "just terminal"

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, it's just, I'm pregnant, and I don't want to risk the baby's health, oh God, I'm sorry."

I looked at the woman who sat next to me, her eyes shined with the sympathy of a soul who knew the nature of pain, one who had suffered the nature of death in the past, she didn't need to tell me, it was in her aura, written on her face, I knew.

"It's okay." I quietly spoke "You were asking a valid question, in your position I would ask the same thing." I half smiled at her before looking back to the floor, back to the white sterile walls, trying to think about anything but death.

"I.... I just don't want to seem rude, it's just..."

A sad expression grew over the woman's face as she began to explain

"It's just this is my third pregnancy, the first two ended in a miscarriage, and I want to make sure the fetus stays healthy, I am due in a month, and... sorry... I don't want to burden you."

I stayed silent, staring at my feet for a couple minutes, occasionally looking at my reflection on the damned sterile floor, I hate being here, these places are just too damned depressing. I feel a need to comfort this woman, but know life,just leads to one thing, death. But I know what she needs to hear, what she should hear.

"Your baby will live a long healthy life."

The nurse calls my name and I am escorted down the hall to see the doctor, the woman is crying, and smiling at me, I don't return the emotion as I walk away, I can't.

I sit in the small room waiting for the doctor and see various medical professionals running down the hall towards where I had just come, I hear one say a woman had gone into premature labor, that she was in shock, I stand and watch 2 minutes later as they rush her down the halls past me, towards a private room, I hear her scream, as she goes into labor, the screams grow louder, then go silent, only to be replaced by the scream of another, the infant she was carrying, an infant that would see me 92 years from today, on the anniversary of his birth, and the day I took his mother.

I am death, and I am terminal.

The End