by Torre Wilson
the case down. I take a deep breath as I open the case to see the 9mm that was given to me by my uncle on my last birthday. I look at it for a moment and stare at my reflection mirror off the smooth silver finish. My blue eyes seem to burn into the steel. I grab the clip as the gun begins to blur in front of me as I struggle to load it, the cold steel feels comforting and welcome in my hands. I push in the clip and hear the click whisper “it’s okay”; I take another deep breath as I slowly slide a round into the chamber. I do it slowly so I can watch the bullet move into position before I slide the top back. I hold it at my side like an assassin while walking through the hallway and into the living room. I notice only static items that clutter my house. The family portraits are blank. The picture frames hold only images my mind will allow me to see. The whole room revolves around me like a cold tomb rather than a warm cozy home. I sit on the couch and lean back, whimpering with pain and anger. Tunnel vision and distant memories flood my consciousness. I remember myself watching television with my mother and sister, and playing catch with my brother and father. Old memories that I wish I could relive begin tormenting me. The inside of my eyelids reveal the first time I saw my beautiful wife. I was sitting in a chair at work laughing with a friend when she walked in front of us and caught my eye and her image never let me go. Then our wedding day starts to slowly playback in my mind. I see my daughter’s birth and the doctors handing her to me. As I held her little hand and looked at my wife, I hoped to be the father and husband they deserved. My chest begins to constrict causing a chain reaction of pain that begins to dart down my body as the voices in my head get louder and more prominent. They’re driving me mad! Thunderous words that I can’t make out. All I get from them are mind splitting headaches that irritate every fiber of my being. All my thoughts and memories begin to blend together and nothing makes sense anymore. Every word chimed in my head causes my vision to shake and shutter. I should call someone for help but who? I already know that everyone I’d call would just annoy me. They’ll all give me answers that I already have; they’ll ask questions that I’ve already asked. I want to get up and move on with my life but life seems so hard right now and this pain is unbearable. I can’t move past this and it just keeps getting worse. My worlds falling apart, my very fabric of existence is deteriorating with every breathe I take. I don’t want an easy way out. I’m a soldier, a husband, a father, and a friend to a world that’s left me behind. A world that’s given up on me; how things got so bad so quickly, I can’t explain and I fear I’ll never know. I look down at the gun and admire the silvery finish as its sight continues to calm me. I look around and feel like a stranger in my own home. I reluctantly pull the gun under my chin and I feel a tear roll down my left cheek as my head follows it to the floor. The room feels like its spinning around me. My vision blurs and everything begins to fade away. Total silence enters the room and finally into my head. The relief is only temporary. The voices return and they’ve grown stronger than ever. They’re yelling at me but why? Why do they constantly torment me?
Like clockwork, the constrictions tear through my body and shiver down my spine. Like chills from being cold but they brought a fire that flows through my veins and throughout my body. My body quivers in pain as I move my head back up; I’m out of my home now and see my daughter running towards me smiling with my beautiful wife close behind her. She’s running in a meadow pushing through the grass and bright yellow daises, she smiles at me as the sun reflects off her perfect little face. Her little hazel eyes are the sharpest color in this memory. I barely feel the tears continue to roll down my face while I come to terms with the fact that this unclear, but understandable image will be the last time I see them. My girls, the loves of my life.
How do you fall asleep and wake up to such a twisted hell? A place where everyone and everything plays tricks on you, a place where you can’t trust anything you see, think, or feel. A twilight zone so surreal you feel like you’ve awakened in a dream that’s actually a reality. I will never kill myself; I’ve said it a million times. Suicide is never the right answer to any question life brings. My thoughts deepen as I envision kneeling down and hugging my daughter. My wife smiles and places her arms around us. This to me won’t be suicide; it’ll be a release. I slide my finger onto the trigger and start to squeeze, I can hear the hammer pull back with a light whisper: “it’s okay” and my ears focus on that sound. Then the hammer slams back into the gun. The room jumps quickly, and then everything goes black.
10
Discovery
A doctor leaves the hospital room with his head down cleaning off his glasses with the bottom of his white coat. As he slowly raises his head and puts the glasses back on, he raises his right hand and lays it on Marie’s shoulder. She looks at him with tears rolling down her cheeks.
“It’s over now, I’m sorry. He’s at peace now.” He says with a soft voice.
“Can I go in and see him?” She mumbles as she wipes her face and tries to compose herself. Her body starts to tremble violently.
“Yes, of course.” He puts his hand on her shoulder and walks her through the door into the large white room.
Marie sees her husband lying motionless on a hospital bed staring up at the ceiling with wet lines on his cheeks where the tears were rolling down his face. Two nurses are unplugging machines from him and one slides her hand down his face closing his lifeless eyes. They hear Marie whimpering behind them and stop. They back away as she moves toward Cory.
“I can’t believe this happened!” Marie says as she walks closer.
“He did a brave thing Mrs. Smith, you should be proud. These situations are never easy.” The doctor tries to comfort her with his gentle words.
Marie leans over and drapes her body across Cory’s chest as she begins to weep uncontrollably. The nurses work around her to remove the IVs out of his arms while blood starts running down his forearms into his hands.
“I just thought that all the time we spent talking to him and all the time his family spoke to him would help. Maybe bring him out of this, it would wake him up you know?”
She tells the doctor as she squeezes her arms around Cory’s still warm body.
“Look Mrs. Smith, I’ve seen individuals in your husband’s position many times and sometimes it does help to talk to them but then sometimes the words just can’t get through. Would you like me to tell his family outside or do wish to do that?”
“No, I will. I think they should hear it from me.”
Marie leans up and tries to wipe the continuous flow of tears from her face. She let’s go of her husband’s hand and slowly moves back towards the door. It’s hard for her to take her eyes off of him as she walks out. She makes her way down the hall to the waiting room where the rest of the have been patiently waiting.
As she enters the room, the expression on her face says more than her words ever could. Cory’s father, Lewis, stands up and carries his son’s three year old daughter out of the room. His lip starts to quiver while Katie lowers her head down onto his shoulder crying for Daddy to please wake up. Marie’s mother walks over and puts her arms around her. Then Cory’s mother Monica hugs his sister. Marie’s mother walks outside and takes Katie from Lewis. As Lewis walks back into the room Marie takes his hand and leads him and Cory’s mother into the room where their son is lying. As they enter they see Cory with bandages still wrapped around his head and his chest red and exposed where the medical staff have been giving him shocks with the defibrillator. They walk up to their son and kiss him on the forehead. The doctor comes in and stops at the end of the bed and lets out a deep sigh.
“I’m very sorry for your loss; I assure you we did everything we could. He was just tired and may have given up; his strength had to be wearing thin. But you have to realize some people come out of comas and some do not.” The doctor says with a soft voice.
“Do you think he felt any pain over the last few days?” Monica asks as she turns to him.
The doctor clears his throat and rep
lies:
“Ma’am, I’ve been around a lot of patients that have come out of comas after being under for years and some have said they heard everything that their friends and family said to them. Others say that they heard nothing. The mind is a magnificent organ. For all we know he could’ve been awake in his mind this whole time living very happily. That’s at least what I like to believe and I hope you see it that way as well, for Cory to be in his mind at peace with good memories and the voice of his loving family. All we know now is that he’s at peace.”
Lewis gives his son one last quick kiss on the head and squeezes his dead hand then walks out not saying a word to anyone. The doctor follows him with his eyes while he walks out.
Monica turns to address the doctor, “Thanks for all you tried to do for my son. It’s sad, you hear about people in comas all the time but you would just never believe someone in your family, especially one of your children would ever be in one.” She hugs Marie and they begin to cry.
It’s raining at the funeral but no one seems to notice as the water rolls off the overhang made by the canopy. After the sermon, the flag folding begins. It’s presented to Marie and then the
