“Do you want to live, honey?”, the old lady ask, a glint of hope shine in her wrinkled eyes.
In the square white room with a window looking to the park, the young lady in questioned, Eirene lay on a white bed, closes her eyes, her tears rolled out, she slowly shakes her head.
“Eirene, sweetheart”, the old lady hold Eirene’s bony hand, “ we have a donor, we finally have it, you just need to sign this, and your heart will be as good as new, and you will be happy”. She tried her hardest to smile and pass her optimism even just a bit to her daughter.
Eirene open her eyes, she look sideway to the window, there’s no sun ray only grey cloud and bristle of wind. “Do you really believe that, mom?” She said softly. “I’m 25, not 12 I know there is no connection between heart transplant and depression”.
The old lady sigh softly, she gaze around the room, making sure there are no sharp things, she lower her gaze and goes “But do you know that physical illness could have an effect on mental illness?” her grip goes tighter on her hand’s daughter.
“There is no guarantee” Eirene reply after a solid minute passed.
“But we can try, one illness at a time”, she now place both her hands on her daughter’s. But Eirene keep her empty gaze out in the sky above and her mouth shut
“I’ll be with you, always, love” the old lady fix her gaze on her daughter’s skinny face.
Eirene keeps her silence.
The old lady continued, “what if it is my heart? Will you still refuse it?”.
In a heartbeat, in whisper, eirene replies, “I’ll kill myself before you had the chance to operate”.
The old lady try to contain her tears but it’s stills welled up, she release her grip, close her mouth with her hand and clutch her heart, the UNICEF badge in her uniform wrinkled, she whisper between sob, “honey, you’re breaking my heart”.
Eirene close her eyes, “if you do it, you will break mine too”.
Can’t contain her cry, the old lady get out trying to calm herself, upon the door she said, “I’ll come back later”.
By a minute the door closed, Eirene open her eyes, walking barefoot, like ghost, hollow, she sneaks into the doctor’s room, she opens the file, it was confirmed, her mother’s name written as the organ donor, complete with a sign and date of operation. With no changing expression she closes it, grabs a cutter from the doctor’s desk and walking slowly, quietly, with an empty gaze, straight to her room.
Eirene writes on a paper, close her door, and slide the paper down the door, lie down, take some sleep pills, and slit both her hands.
An hour later after she calms herself, the old lady walk back, through the hallway of the echo from screaming, laughing, crying of other patients. At the end of the hallways, in front of the door she sees the paper, and read it:
To the mother of all children,
Your life is more meaningful than mine. In my whole life I love you, always. But I am sick. From the bottom of my heart, I am deeply sorry, mom.
The old lady open the door, she drop on her knees crying her heart out until no sound coming from her grieve.
The doctors and nurses rush on her direction, a nurse lead her to sit on the sofa on Eirene’s room, “madam secretary, please sit here while we take care of miss Eirene” Said the nurse
The old lady mumble in her tremble like she said these words to herself, “I have saved hundreds of children, how can I couldn’t save my own, my only child?”.
Hospital bed, May 31st, 2017
Preference on Greek Goddess
Eirene – Goddess of peace and spring