The fan buzzes on endlessly until it seems to morph itself into the whole of the room. If the fan is not on, the room seems dead and empty. The dripping of the snow can be heard outside the thin walls of the room, and can be seen outside the window. It comes as a depressing sound. A sound of loss as the snow melts already, only just coming onto the ground a week before. It will come back, she knows. But something about the sound of the drip drop and seeing the melted liquid snow fall like tears makes her think of the hospital that he’s in right now. The clearness and pure of the snow is nothing like the morphine that is constantly being pushed into his skin. His skin is as light as the snow now, so light that there is almost a color to his albino hair. His eyes are the equivalent to everything in the room. His eyes are blue, and they are now filled with what looks like liquid snow as he lies on the hospital bed. Pain filled expressions come from invisible waves that wash ashore as he screams and go back out to sea as he is able to take a breath in between the bursts of pain. The snow keeps dripping and the fan keeps buzzing. Images seem to be blown into her eyes by the fan. She sees his eyes, going mad from the pain. She sees his hands, clenching into fists as the pain waves back into his body. Somehow, she knows that his pain will be over soon. She covers is up with the snow, but the snow is rapidly melting away. Somehow, it seems okay that he is dying more and more with every scream. Because as she sits in the waiting room, she knows that a life like this cannot be much of a life at all. He has been gone for a while now. The ongoing machines cannot hide the fact that it is not him anymore. It is only his empty body being pushed and filled with poison. The fan casually turns itself off and his screaming stops. The beeping stops...the urgent voices stop. And she knows that he is gone now. She knows that he will not come back as the snow will, but she knows that there will be no more pain for him. Right now, as the room becomes awkward and silent, as the doctor comes out with a weary look on his face, the fact that there will be no more pain is all that matters. The fan turns itself on again, the snow keeps dripping; she stands up and walks to the doctor.
June 6, 2009