Worth Living For {Completed}

Chapter 5 | The First

          Carefully, and quietly I peaked through the glass into the sterile room. I bit my lip and felt my stomach lurch. On a turquoise bed was my father. Gerald Broflovski. Tubes in his throat, IV's in his arms, a gas mask over his mouth and nose. 

          The surgeons rushing around like they memorized this room like the back of their hand. The surgeon I had been following was yelling at the elderly woman doctor who had spaced out and failed to hand the man another scalpel.

          Then the beeping started, louder and louder, pounding in my brain. From the room the echoing sound of the heart monitor going crazy, beeping louder and louder, the beeps growing closer and closer together.

          The surgeons were growing closer and closer together, trying to calm the beeps. I continued to stare into the room. I sucked in my cheeks and sucked in a huge breath. Then the beeping stopped, the empty space was occupied by a solo one lined beep, it wasn't over and over again, it was in one fine line.

          "Damn it!" the surgeon cried and slamming a clenched fist against the counter top. "He's gone" he sadly looked down at the ground, trying not to look at his body. "There's nothing we can do" he sighed loudly, pulling off the bloody plastic gloves on his hands.

          "NO!" I yelled, I felt my throat ripping and vibrating with the monstrous yell. I created a fist and with all of my power I slammed it against the glass "DO SOMETHING!" I yelled, anger filling me up, I felt my head split and I started to sob harder. 

          "Do something..." I moaned, attempting to slam a fist against the glass once again, but without any success. I slid down onto the ground, still clenching my fists in front of me.

          I kept holding my breath. My father was gone. Gerald Broflovski was dead.

          I told you, the low voice mocked.

          In a minute, the four surgeons exited the room and removed their plastic clothing and began talking in low whispers.

           "Poor man" the elderly surgeon shook her head, removing her face mask from around her mouth and nose and placing it on top of the sink. "Must have been a bad car accident"

          "It was" the orange haired man butted in. He looked shamefully at the ground "it was an entire family" he sighed.

          "Oh no!" the woman cried, putting a hand over her mouth.

          "Yeah, a young kid, two teens, a boy, who is not part of the family, and another boy, part of the family, both of them are sixteen. A woman in her forties and..." he hesitated before pointing behind his back into the vacant room, "...Him" he pointing with his thumb.

          "How are they all doing?" she asked curiously in a small voice, a low whisper.

           He turned towards her and looked her in the eyes "The young boy and the teen boy are siblings, but the other teen boy is a family friend or something, the father's dead" he shook his head.

          "And the mother?" she inquired.

          "She was pronounced dead at the scene, so anyways these kids are going to grow up without their parents, their both dead"