Short Stories

Loss...

THIRD PERSON VIEW

Isabella sat in her car, terrified of what would she would witness once she made her way into the hospital.

A week ago, her father had been admitted into a local university's hospital. He had stage three brain cancer. He was in such critical condition that she was told he wouldn't survive for many more days.
Her mother's friends were already there, visiting him. She was glad, they were very close to her family.

Isabella's mind scattered around as she made her way out of the car and into the hospital. As she walked down the long, suddenly shadowy hallways, she thought about how amazing her father was. Funny, happy, always joking around. He was just amazing. Yet, he was now, unable to speak, unable to control his body, unable to move.

Isabella walked briskly towards an assistance desk to ask where her father was.

"Yes Miss?" said the woman sitting at the counter.

"I'm looking for Christopher Fernandez," Isabella responded.

"He's in section 4A4, go down the hall, to your right and then take the glass elevator up 2 floors." the woman returned.

"Thank you," was all Isabella could get out of her mouth without choking on her words and crying.

Isabella continued straight down the hall as the woman at the desk had indicated until she reached the end, she then veered right and reached a large glass elevator. She pressed the up button on the large mechanical device and waited until the soft ding of the elevator arriving sounded. She stepped in and left her arm out to prevent the elevator doors closing while others filed in. Isabella turned to the panel with the numbered floors on them, pressed the fourth floor, and watched as other numbers were illuminated as they were pressed. Soon, the ding of the elevator arriving on her floor sounded, Isabella stepped out and made her way through the corridors of the hospital. Patients were being wheeled around and swerved passed her as she followed down the sanitary smelling halls.

Finally, she arrived in the area marked 4A4, she rounded a wall into a waiting area, there, she saw her mother's friend Paula, her husband David, and daughter Julia. Julia sat tucked up into a ball on a leather couch, she had her phone and was very concentrated at whatever she was doing. The fourteen year old looked up from her phone, seeing Isabella, she stood up and hugged her tightly. Isabella took the hug and broke down automatically, all her feelings rose to the surface and she couldn't hold it back. Finally, Julia broke away from the hug and squeezed Isabella's shoulders tightly, seeing the pain in her eyes. Then, Isabella proceeded to hug Paula and David, they took her hugs willingly.

"How have you been dealing with it?" Julia said.

"Terribly" Isabella replied.

"So have I, it's a lot to go through" Julia returned.

"Thank you for being here, Julia." Isabella said sitting down next to the girl, "it means a lot to me and my family"

Everybody in the room around Isabella were having their own struggles with what was happening, Paula was uncontrollably crying every night, David was always in a bad mood or angry for no reason. Isabella had been changed from a happy person to a sad and always crying person. But worst of all, was Julia, on the outside she acted normal, but on the inside, she had been trying to push through severe depression, insomnia, and anxiety. The fourteen year-old had been cutting herself because of everything that had been happening, yet she was so young.

Isabella's eyes panned across the room, all the people there cared about her father, and were there to support her family. She was so thankful that everybody was there to help her family through the difficult times. Isabella then stood up and made her way over to the doors where the patients were. She ringed in, and asked where her father was, a woman on the other side responded and Isabella went through the doors to where the patients were. She made her way down the corridors, seeing all the patients in terrible states, looking very similar to what her father looked like.

FIRST PERSON VIEW

Every patient I passed looked about the same, sleeping, unable to move, and surrounded by their loved ones. As I made my way to my father's shared room, I noticed how many people were there, young children, young adults, the elderly. The rooms were lined up and down the hallways with four to five patients in every one. The final room on the left side before rounding a corner belonged to my father and another pair of guys. The plaque on the side of the doorway read Christopher Fernandez, Jacob Yves, and Mark Usdail.

I entered slowly into the room and turned my head looking at the two other men in the room. One had blonde hair and was beginning to bald, the other had thick fawn hair swept over his eyes and had a rastafarian hairstyle.

I made my way over to my father, his once silky, slicked black hair was now ruggedly done and shaken up. His eyes were closed, he was evidently sleeping. But once I reached the medical bed where my father lay, I didn't know what to do or say. Everything seemed to stand still, the only evidence of time passing by was the soft ticking of a clock and the quiet beeping of the heart monitors. I took my father's hand and held it, his skin was pale and as dry as a desert, his head rolled over so he was facing me. He slowly opened his eyes, the glint of his brown eyes no longer there, instead, just flat colour. My father looked up at me, his eyes started to fill with tears and his breathing became ragged.

"No, no, no, Dad don't cry!" I say not wanting to stress him out.

"Please," I say kneeling down beside his bed, "calm down"

The man I once saw running around and happy was now broken in tears in a medical bed. I couldn't stop his crying, and it was getting worse. Nurses started rushing in and pushing me out of the room as my dad continued to have a breakdown and breath ruggedly.

"Miss, you need to leave right now," a nurse shouted at me.

THIRD PERSON VIEW

Isabella made her way out the room and into the waiting area, Paula and David stood up and looked at Isabella as she made her way to the sofa to sit beside Julia. Julia put her phone away and hugged Isabella tightly as tears streamed down her face once again.

"Did you see him?" Paula asked.

"I did," Isabella returned, "but he woke up"

"It's terrible," Paula added, "when he sees you and crys"

"But his breathing seemed worse," Isabella replied, "I wonder how long he has..."

It took a small amount of time until a nurse came out of the neurological area and into the waiting room. He had his head down and had his hands at his sides as he stood in front of Isabella, her Mother, Paula, Julia, and David. He slowly mouthed the words that broke everybody's hearts and ruined any happiness left in anybody.

"He's gone," the nurse said as he remained with his head down, "I'm so sorry"

Paula sat down and hugged Isabella's mother as they both cried, David put his head in his hands and sat, silent. Julia seemed to become a wax statue as she just sat motionless. Isabella bent down to hug her knees, she cried into them. She started think about how it couldn't be true, her fun, loving Dad couldn't leave her. He wouldn't leave her...

A FEW WEEKS LATER

After the funeral for Christopher, everybody needed some kind of closure, David and Paula invited everybody to their house. As everybody entered into the living room, Julia snuck upstairs as to be alone. People sat down on the couches and chairs and even on the floor as to make room for others to join in. Going around in a large circle, everybody told a story about the best time they had ever had with Christopher, it carried on for hours. But, everybody had gone at least twice and the only person to not tell their story was Julia, Isabella walked up the stairs to the second floor. Isabella reached Julia's door, she knocked a few times, no answer, Isabella slowly inched the door open. Once the door was open enough to see into the room, Isabella screamed as she saw a horror she thought she would never see.

Julia's limp body swayed back and forth as a rope with a tied noose held her...