Hidden Allure

Part 10

Caleb’s POV:

Beep, beep, beep. The sound droned on and on, and the same scene replayed over and over again in my head, as if I was watching a bad movie. I saw the swarm of doctors and nurses crowd around the patient. Nurses check the heart rate monitored. Flatlined. They desperately lay the defibrillator on her chest, count to three, and then shock her. Her body jerks, but the beeping continues. They try two more times before the doctor bends his head in surrender. The assistant looks up at the clock and writes down the time. Despite all the commotion surrounding her, the patient stays still. The patient is dead. It is all over.

I woke with a start. The horrible dream invaded my sleep every night. Though Cara passed away two weeks ago, the memory was still as fresh as it had been then. She had only been eleven years old; she shouldn’t have died so young.

Today was her Libitina. All our relatives, friends and acquaintances would meet in Iopen Mort Hall, decked in navy blue, to celebrate her short but well spent life. I truly did not want to go. I had no need for the hundreds of pitying looks I knew I would receive. Ma and Pa had been strong, but I think they were keeping up the facade only for my sake. I wish they’d just be honest with me about how they were feeling. It would help both me and them. At her Libitina, I would be speaking, along with my parents and several of Cara’s friends. I never realized that a day in my lifetime would come when I would have to do that.

Suddenly an image flashed through my mind.

CARA ROSALIND PETRILLO

2314-2325

      BELOVED FRIEND, DAUGHTER AND SISTER

Cause of Death: Unknown

I knew that these horrible, condemning words would be engraved on her headstone.

Cara had suffered for five long months. We had been noticing little changes in her composure, like the way her skin was extremely pale, as if she had been dusted with chalk. She complained of a migraine nearly daily, and her already small figure had become even tinier. One day, when she was sent home after collapsing at school, we were forced to acknowledge changes and take her to a doctor. All night long they poked and prodded her, connecting weird tube-like wires that looked like snakes to her head. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. Finally, they decided that it would be best to hospitalize her and make her comfortable. When I looked at her dainty figure on the bed, I realized something shocking: my sister looked like death.  

It was then that I realized that there was nothing the doctors could do. I just knew it.  Everything, my sister’s health and our family’s hope, started spiraling downwards after her hospitalization. I think her final breaking point was when she couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom on her own. This not only embarrassed her, but it signified the time from when she was completely dependent on others. That hurt and upset her more than anything else.

Eventually, my sister was completely bedridden and slept nearly all day. The doctors had pretty much given up on her; they just made sure a nurse was taking her vitals every two hours. Then one morning, while I was visiting her after school, she woke from a deep slumber and held my hand in a death grip. Painfully, she opened her lips and whispered five words, five words that changed everything. “I just want to die.”

She continued, “I am tired of laying in this stupid bed all day.  I dream of being able to run again, walk again, even go to school again. But the worst part is, I know it will never happen. You don’t know how it is, Caleb. Every single day I wake up in pain. The only time I am truly peaceful is in my sleep. And what’s better than eternal sleep for a person like me?  It’s not like I’m going to magically get better or anything, and death happens to everyone. It’s just early for me, that’s all. I lived a life full of amazing friends and an awesome family. Now I just want one more thing. I want to die painlessly, as serenely as possible. I can’t tolerate any more of this. You’ll make sure my last wish is fulfilled, right Cay?”

Those words stabbed me like a pitchfork straight through my heart. She had lost all hope. And what was worse, was that her Cay couldn’t do anything about it. People think that all big brothers are supposed to be tough and manly and stolid, but at that moment I broke down. I cried my heart out as my little sister held my hand, squeezing it tightly, as if she knew this would happen. She took care of me for those few minutes like a mother. It was strange that she was taking care of her older brother instead ofthe other way around, but she had matured greatly in those few months.

Despite her eleven years of age,she seemed like a wise old person who had lived for hundreds of years. It’s amazing how one life changing experience can change somebody’s viewpoint of the world and life in general. Five months in a hospital transformed a happy, bubbly girl to a broken, dispirited shell of a person.  

“Cara, please don’t talk like that. I know that all this is really, really hard for you but please, just try to live, and don’t subside to death. Maybe the doctors can help you! Maybe they still haven’t had enough time-” I broke into a fresh round of tears.

“No Cay, you just don’t understand. I need to do this.”

I opened my mouth to respond when I faintly heard her gasp for breath, and felt her hand slip away from mine. My eyes darted to the heart rate monitor adjacent to the bed. The moment my vision focused on it, a beeping filled the room, slicing through the suffocating silence. Her heart was failing.What were once meant to be words of encouragement now turned into a strangled yell.

“Doctor! DOCTOR!” I yelled and yelled, tears streaming down my defeated face.

Beep, beep, beep! The sound droned on and on, and the same scene replayed over and over again in my head, as if I was watching a bad movie. I saw the swarm of doctors and nurses crowd around the patient. Nurses checked the heart rate monitored. Flatlined. They desperately lay the defibrillator on her chest, count to three, and then shocked her. Her body jerks, but the beeping continues. They try two more times before the doctor bends his head in surrender. The assistant looks up at the clock and writes down the time. Despite all the commotion surrounding her, the patient stays still. The patient is dead. The patient was my sister. It is all over.