The Plague
Saturday night.
7 P.M.
Gone. Dead. Never to be again. Such was her life. There one day, gone the next.
What brought upon these grave events? What was the cause of such devastation amongst family and friends? Why them?
I’m sorry to tell you i cannot tell you why these things happen. That is up to you to decide for yourself, and maybe after I have recounted the events of seven nights ago you will be able to draw a conclusion of your own as to why these things happen.
Seven days ago, a saturday night, a young girl, merely seventeen years of age fell ill. The symptoms started like any mere flu would. It could have even been a simple cold. Oh, if only it was that simple.
The day these symptoms appear passes. Day two arrives. The girl is worse, and is confined to her room in hopes of beating this “flu,” this “cold.” She manages to entertain herself only through her extensive book collection. Such classics as Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Withering Heights could be found amongst the collection.
Another day comes and goes. Her condition worsens. This day, two days after the symptoms first appear, is the beginning of the end for her. This is the day she first began to cough up blood.
Day four continues much like the third, with the symptoms beginning to worsen.
Day five. The girl is held captive to her bed. Blood dribbles down her nose and leaks from the corner of her mouth. Doctors are called in, but this is so foreign to them, this strange disease, these symptoms. They do not know what to make of it.
Day seven finally arrives. The doctors have come to a conclusion. She is dying.
Six hours. Six hours before her demise. She begins to reflect, to think back on her life. First to her adolescent years. She begins to replay memories over and over.
Five Hours. The girl is taken back to her early school years. All the field trips. The class parties. Her first crush on the cute boy that sat two seats down from her.
Four hours. High School. She recounts those painful years her mother helped her through. Those kind, tender words her mother uttered as she experienced her first heartbreak.
Two hours. Tears begin to cascade down her face as she recalls how loving her family is, and how she was always showered in affection. As she reflects on these precious moments she realizes how much her passing will hurt them. To see her suffer is a fate worse than death for the ones she holds so dear to her heart.
One hour. She has steeled her heart, and as her loved ones gather around she uses her last few breaths to tell them how much she loves them and how they have all impacted her life, her way of thinking, her very soul. Tears are shed. Pain is felt. Sorrow beyond comprehension is felt. Sorrow for what is, for what was, for what never will be.
The girl suddenly gets an idea. With steal laced eyes she looks around the room, making sure to look into everyones eyes, and with a heart of determination she calmly pulls herself away from her bed. She stands with quiet resolve and begins to attempt to walk strongly out the door. Ignoring the protests from her loved ones she manages to stumble outside and into the middle of the street. With the last of her strength she manages to look at her family and smiles a smile, not of pain, but of gratefulness. Gratefulness for the life that she has known, the years she has lived, and the love she has felt. And with that last smile she bids her family farewell as a truck plows into her small fragile frame.
This is the path chosen by the nameless girl in the dark of the night. To die by her own hands, by her own terms, is a fate she felt she deserved. A fate much kinder than the strange disease that had plagued her last few days on earth.
Did she deserve this ending? Why did it happen? Why her?
That, dear reader, is not for me, but for you to decide.
