You always have a choice but sometimes the choice you must make is to leave yourself no other choice.


We arrived to find the curtains drawn, as the doctor had to administer some medication. Some minutes later they were slowly pulled apart, to reveal her frail figure on the bed, tubes and tubes emerging from so many places.

Her head was tilted to the side, mask secured, gasping for air that the machine was pumping on behalf of her weak lungs. Her hands and feet were tied, because she would not have all those needles poked in. She would rip them out.

There she was, spread thinly between the horizon of this life and the next. Tortured by the very machines keeping her from dying. They knew their jobs and did only that, not caring for the impressions they left in her skin, abrasions and scratches, locking her in a painfully uncomfortable position till the day her body would regain its function.

It was as though they were imprisoning her in this life because they could not bear her departure.

It seemed like she was being punished for her body’s inability to do what it must.

And so it must have understood, for her lungs soon began working again and her heart kept going. She could finally speak again, and every time i looked at her i wondered… how did it feel during those horrible few days when you were on the brink of death and madness. What went through your mind? How did you emerge from it?

But every time i even thought of uttering a word, my mouth would go dry and my tongue heavy. I couldn’t bring myself to pull her back into that nightmare. I just couldn’t.


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