Her Final Sunset

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His eyes were fixated on a small poster taped to the wall that had the basic fundamentals to the respiratory system. He continued starring at the poster every word was a blur, all the words jumbled into a standing mass balancing on the convex surface of his pupil. His gaze was broken with the swift wheezing screech of the ventilator moving its accordion shaped design from compressed to full. The room was perfect temperature, it had to be. With every wheeze her chest moved with a robotic aggression to the beat of the machine. Then with a teary glance at the clock he slouched down in his chair and closes his eyes along with hers.

Two weeks before they had begun their honeymoon. He and she were full of life and full of love and they had just landed in their beautiful island paradise. He was an average sized man with thick light blonde hair could be tosseled but always returned to form . He had a slender build with pale skin decorated with light barley noticeable freckles. His eyes were dark holes of blue, his chin was chiseled from granite, and from the granite sprouted a thin, soft five o’clock shadow. His walk was one of confidence and distinction. Although he had no reason for this kind of walk and he wore classic tourist clothes that shouted “pick pocket me!” to the island’s local crime scene. She, on the other hand, was dressed in the bright native colors of the island. Her hair was long and curly, and looked as though it was never combed and yet it was always perfect. She was short, but vibrant. She danced to any beat, and sang to every song. Her pale brown eyes were kind and nurturing, but mysterious. She could tear through him with one glance, and have him melting into a pile of nothing, reminiscent of the wicked witch of the west. Her clothes were earthy, full of brown for the soil, orange for the sun, and blue for the cloud speckled sky. One couldn’t help but to love her. She held no grudge, and would not find a reason not to love everything about you. Her personality lit up a room, and she could make the hardest of old men bend a grin. He would tell himself everyday that he was the luckiest man alive, and that he would never leave her for a million years. He secretly hoped that she would never realize that she was an angel and fly back to heaven were she belonged.

Their trip ran past them like the bulls in Pamplona. They ate at the local restaurants, danced at the hottest nightclubs, and relaxed at a beach with water so blue it gave a summer sky a run for its money. On the evening of their last night they sat on the beach watching the sun set. Both thought it cliché, but it didn’t matter because they watched each other more than the burning sphere being cut down by the ocean. They sat there till the sky was only lit with the reflection of the moon off the water.

The next morning he woke next to her, and leaned over to give her a good morning kiss. She was cold. He grabbed her slight arm and squeezed. He jumped out of bed circling to see her face. She had only a mold of her luminous face on as she lay motionless. The moments after this were a frantic blur emotion and chaos.

The next thing he knew his senses were buzzing with the cacophony of the emergency room. The smell of disinfectant stung his throat and made him sick. The hustle of the room made his head flip and spin as if it were subject to a beating with a baseball bat. But, what tore at him the most was that indescribable feeling of grief, fear, and loneliness that can be interpreted with words and only understood by those who have felt grief’s cold fingers tickling the back of their neck and the inside of thier stomach. He sat alone in a slippery vinal covered chair next to an elderly woman. He could only think of how he was too young to be in this situation, he was too young to feel the pain of helplessly watching a loved one battle with death. He was approached by a doctor who held a solid, stone visage. With his dark brown eyes welling he fumbled a few words out of his mouth that fell together to form the question “How is she?” The doctor still stone-faced told him she is in a room on life support.

The doctor led him into a small single room in the ICU were she was in bed. The doctor left him alone in the room, were he stood starring at her, only living by the maze of machines at her bedside. He stumbled to her bed side and collapsed to his knees with his head on her hand. He kneeled at her bedside for so long the sunlight had shifted onto his swollen, reddened eyes. This light made him think of her bright sun-filled eyes, and he smiled. He fell into that tattered chair and stared out into the light slowly falling behind the ocean on more time.





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Stephenmcreynolds said...
Apr. 8, 2009 at 8:32 pm
That was good.
Could you check this out to give me feedback?

TeenInk.com/raw/Fiction/article/96942/Our-Army/
 
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