This was the end. I gazed outside the window to see the bright blue sky, with no cloud in sight. The rays of the sun pierced the window and entered the room I was in. The beauty was blinding, and I couldn’t stand to look at something that I was dreadfully going to lose, forever. Tears arose in my eyes as I looked away, and my attention was now on the pale, lifeless ceiling. The heart monitor was silent. Every other machine was silent in the room as well. I heard only my own breathing and the gentle dripping of the IV. Tears flowed down the side of my face, as I lied there, waiting for darkness to consume me. It was finally time to finish counting my days, and start counting the remaining minutes of my life.

What was I to do at this time, weep, be joyful that I can escape my sickness, or be afraid for the things to come? For I knew what was going to happen, and where I would go next in the afterlife. I was terrified. I had wasted my life on drugs and alcohol, the things that started to kill me slowly. Because of those sinful pleasures, I must now pay the consequences. Oh how can God save me, when I don’t even know if he, or it, exists? There were so many moments where I had the chance to know Him.
Maybe I wouldn’t be here today, if only I had listened to my wife, if she still counts as one now. I had forsaken her, and my child. Anguish forced me to tremble as more tears poured from my eyes. Why did I do that? Why did I commit such a cruel act? My little girl that of as a hero, as the best dad ever. My wife adored me, ignoring my addictions and faults. But, I didn’t love them back as much as they loved me. My hands gripped the sheets on my bed, trembling as indignation took over. I was a liar, an adulterer, a criminal. I lived two opposing lives. When my wife and kid went to church, I lied that I was busy with something stuff for my job. Little did they know, I had eyes on someone else and that I was drinking myself to death. I remember coming back home at night, smelling like poison and vapor.
However, my wife still loved me, even though she knew what I was doing. My daughter knew to, but still talked about me as if I were a hero, as I one did before with my own father. The breaths I took started to feel shaky, as I started to think about my parents. I was only the only child, but my parents loved me more than anything. If only I loved them like that. I ran away from home when I disagreed with what I was right, and not return until I started to feel hungry. They fed me when I returned, still showing love to me despite me hating my home. My parents worked minimum wage jobs, trying to do the best they can to keep bread on the table. I never thanked them. The used that money on nothing else, and only used it on me. My dad wore the same off-white button up shirt every other day and a grey t-shirt as well. He wore the same blue ripped jeans as well. My mom wore the same white tank-top and the same brown jeans. They didn’t spend money on new clothes, or on jewelry. They spent it on things necessary for me. When I wanted something, they bought it for me.
More tears flowed. I never expressed gratitude towards them. Selfishness corrupted my heart, and stayed with me for years to come. They spent money on me to put me through school, even though I absolutely hated it. I disliked my classmates, my teachers. I had a strong hatred for learning. I was never good at making friends with the good people at the school. It was much easier making friends with the troublemakers. I understood them and they understood me. Surrounding myself with these types of people brought great influence on me. They told me that drugs were cool, that being a rebel was cool. I started thinking it was too. This brought me down a rough path. I met these two people, Joe and Rod, people who asked me to runaway from home and live the “good life” with them. I sadly accepted. I left my loving parents, to pursue a career of transgressions. I wonder if others of taken the same path as I have, and ended up the same way.
I wanted to shout to the world, to the people, to not make the same mistakes as I did. My vision blurred as more tears erupted, and I began to sob even more. I missed my mom, my dad, my daughter, my wife. I would give anything to have them in this room right now. I wanted them to be beside me as I passed away. But, I was alone. No friends, no family. I started to feel cold. Oh, what have I done! Oh, what mistakes I have made! I started to have a coughing fit, and it felt as if my lungs were failing. My grip loosened on the sheets, and it felt as if my limbs were failing. My mind started to drift away. My eyelids slowly started to close, and shut forever. The sounds of dripping water started to fade, as my hearing was dissipating. Life abandoned me, just how I have abandoned my loved ones. Jason Summers had left, and on that bed remained just a man of infinite regret.