|Addiction (standard:Flash, 286 words)|
|Author: timster||Added: Sep 27 2004||Views/Reads: 1948/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|What happens in the end...|
“You can't do that.” “He's dead Mamma. The Doctor's say he is brain dead. The only thing keeping him alive is those tubes. He wouldn't have wanted that.” I recognize the voices and for a moment wonder whom they are talking about. It suddenly strikes me they are talking about myself. Brain dead, then why can I hear them, understand them? Surly they are mistaken. My sight is black and I cannot speak, but I understand them. It was those damn pills, though I have taken them everyday for years. Reds, Yellowjackets, they always made me feel mellow. When I didn't take them a sickness would overcome me, so I continued to take them. What was different about the other night? Was it the whiskey? That was the last time I could see and speak. I hear the door open and a strange voice speak to my Mom and brother. “Have you decided?” I hear my mother holding back tears, almost choking, “Take him off it.” “That's the right thing to do Mom, he never would have wanted to be like this”. “I know.” “We'll do it right away, Mrs. Ryan.” I remember starting to take the pills after coming back from Vietnam. They took away the memories of shooting that little kid. That damn kid killed me as much as I killed him; just was slower for me. I would have rather been that small child. It would have been quick and easy. So now, I lay here waiting to die, knowing it is coming. Yet I am relieved in a sense, the pain from the years will be gone; I'll be free. “Good-Bye John.” Bye, Momma. The thoughts in my mind fade into darkness. Tweet
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