Time of Death This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

January 15, 2009
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The first death on your watch isn’t even your fault. You’re just one of the many interns who rush to the bedside when the code is called, peering at the doctors crowding around. As the patient gasps and chokes, you too gasp and choke as each electric shock blasts through the body. The doctors are grim-faced but determined; you hopelessly wonder why they even bother. Again and again the voltage is cranked up, but thunderbolts can only do so much.

The doctor holding the paddles slowly turns away from the flaccid flesh and another quietly asks, “Time of death?” You back away, feeling as if the defibrillator was really meant for you as your heart pounds out its own furious pace. A devastated mother takes your wrist. “Time of death?” she whispers, mis­taking you for a doctor, someone who tried his best to resuscitate her darling daughter, someone who knew what he was doing, someone with guts enough to challenge death. Not a first-year intern who never could remember which number was the systolic for blood pressure, not someone who didn’t even dare to take blood sugar levels.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” you blurt. “You’ll be able to talk to the doctors inside …,” you mumble, patting the trembling hand. She bites her lip and nods, letting go of the scrubs that you shouldn’t be wearing, the scrubs reserved for those who can save lives, not for those who don’t even know how to gently break death to a loved one.

The third death is similar, only this time you’ve been dragged along for scut work. You’re the one ramming your hands into the sternum, trying to force the fluttering heartbeat into your rhythm. You’re the one leaping out of the way of the defib paddles, jumping back to start compressions again. The patient bottoms out, but after the paddles thunder a third time, you can feel the thump of the heart, tangoing with yours as you collapse against a chair, arms quivering with strain. You shudder with relief. You brought him back. You saved him. You.

The eighteen death is the hardest. That little baby in neo-natal care should never have been forced to live on machines. Each breath is a struggle, and the medications are flowing in a poisonous concentration for such a small body, yet the parents insist on continuing the farce of life. They’re unwilling to bear any grief while their baby boy wheezes and thrashes weakly, seeking comfort but receiving only the hard embrace of a hospital cradle and the groan of machines.

The mother shrieks, “He’s blue! Do something!” After you reach the crib and despair at the readouts, you motion the code team away and beckon to the mother and father.

“The best thing for him is to take him off the machines,” you say.

The dad glares. “You want to kill him.”

They don’t understand the torture they have put him through. “If he even survives a year, he will be severely physically and mentally disabled. For life,” I persist.

The mother moans, “He’s blue! I don’t care. Just save him! Now!”

You nod at the code team, maneuvering yourselves around the tiny crib and pulling off the oxygen mask, trying to fit your large palms against the flimsy baby with his face scrunched up in a silent wail. The heart drugs aren’t having any effect due to the amount of medication already flowing through his body.

“Use the shocker!” the mother wails.

“We can’t!” you snarl, trying to give compressions to a weak chest and an even weaker malformed heart. “Your baby is too small and his heart is deformed! If we do, we’ll kill him!”

The code leader shakes his head. “Time of death ….”


“3:36 p.m.”

The thirty-third death is the best death. You’re the one in charge. If a code is called, you will wield the paddles, call out “Clear!” You have the final say on time of death if it occurs. You won’t let those words pass your lips.

But she smiles at you through her pure white hair. “I’m ready to leave. Are you ready to let me go?”

You sob, throw down the clipboard. “No, Mom! I don’t want you to.”

She still wears the tender smile of years past as her body wastes away and shrivels to a mere fraction of her vitality. “But it’s necessary. I need you to. And you know it.”

“Mom ….”

And she brushes her hand against yours, squeezing it once before closing her eyes. “You’re ready.”

You kiss her cooling cheek then note: “Time of death: 9:12 a.m., Thursday, April 24 ….”

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

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HereSheIsThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Jun. 11 at 10:20 am
Packed with emotion and all around awesome
vivz02This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 28, 2016 at 10:38 pm
That was amazing. I really wasn't expecting the last part. Keep up with the good work! ;)
emmakate45 said...
Nov. 18, 2015 at 9:00 pm
Wow. Tears in my eyes at the last part.
maddymadmad3 said...
Apr. 10, 2014 at 8:43 pm
RoyalCorona said...
May 25, 2013 at 6:12 pm
This was a great short story and deserves to be put in the magzine!! Nice job!
dragonsandthree said...
Apr. 30, 2013 at 6:34 pm
This is so sad.
Super-Tate said...
Apr. 14, 2013 at 10:30 pm
Wow! That was amazing. It was really powerful and brought tears to ny eyes ay the end. :(
Cosbino said...
Jan. 30, 2013 at 9:42 am
In all of my searching on Teen Ink, I must say that this is the best piece of literature I have EVER read. It is fluent, amazing, speaks to your heart, and is 100% fantastic. Thank you for submitting this. It is incredible.
kyramcn said...
Jan. 12, 2013 at 9:13 pm
Oh my god this is amazing
nerdyfish said...
Dec. 30, 2012 at 4:09 pm
Wow this is very realistic and your grabber keeps me clinging on to the last string. Emotional and outstanding, especially if you are interested in health like myself. Keep up the great work, you inspire me.
onehappyaster This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Nov. 8, 2012 at 2:03 am
I myself am a nursing student and the way you presented this.. idea, is so true! you never really think about how hard and unglamorous such jobs can be.. definitely an accurate perception and so beautifully written! you have an amazing gift!
HiChanel said...
Oct. 17, 2012 at 6:10 pm
This is really beautifully written. It's shows a realistic side of life we may not like to pay attention to. Great Job!
forsaken_sadness said...
Oct. 17, 2012 at 3:01 am
The last part made me want to cry.... It really shows how hard life is, and the hardships that we go through.
Caesar123 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 22, 2012 at 6:39 pm
The story was pretty good, but I did notice a few grammatical errors. They took away from the story a bit, but not much. Overall real nice.
BRiANNARoSE said...
Jul. 21, 2012 at 2:43 pm
Gave me goosebumps! Such a beautiful, heartbreaking story. Shows how fragile life is. Keep writing! (:
Sydney K. said...
Jul. 12, 2012 at 7:49 pm
This is so good...it really put a lot into perspective, you did an amazing job.
Aduke9 said...
Jun. 29, 2012 at 1:38 pm
Aduke9 replied...
Jun. 29, 2012 at 1:39 pm
That was an incredible piece
GodSpell98 said...
May 16, 2012 at 3:22 pm
I loved this...it was so touching and heartfelt. I almost cried...you have a wonderful way of bringing the real world into us. Keep writing!
writer@heart16 said...
May 11, 2012 at 9:58 pm
This was... wow. It was entirely believable, made me want to cry, and put me right next to the MC as s/he tried to help bring the dead back to life. The way the story leads up to your MC willingly letting someone die, their own mother no less, was truly amazing. You have a gift, please don't waste it!
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