Decision

“Have a nice day,” the pretty nurse—elegantly dresses in common nursery clothing, says goodbye to me. Her thin lips are lifted slightly as she shows me her kind smile. I can tell she is by the end of her shift by now; she seems a bit messy by her hair, which I can tell from her untidy braid. She takes her examination board and goes away from my bed. “Excuse me, Mr. Miller.”

The so-called man—which is exactly my dad, lifts his head in shock as he opens his eyes, waking up from his late slumber. “A-ah, yes,” he barely replies, “thank you, Ms…,” he stops for a moment while narrowing his eyes toward the nametag on the nurse’s uniform, “Ms. Johnson.” The two of them exchange smile before the nurse really leaves the room, leaving the two of us just like usual.

“So, what do you want for your breakfast, honey?” my dad asked as he rubs both his eyes. He stands up and stretches his morning bones. “Wait up.” He immediately goes to the sink nearby and washes his face. He takes his glasses from his pale-blue shirt and puts them on after rubbing his face one more time.

I just shrug, right here, right on the white bed. “You usually bought me bread and milk,” I flatly answer.

My dad smiles at me. “If you were given the chance to choose your breakfast, what would it be?” he asks once more.

I look up, trying to think a good answer, but all I can say was, “Bread?” And then I pause. “And—”

“Milk, okay, I know it,” my dad continues. I nod. “I’m off then. I will be back in some minutes!” He then goes to the door and opens it up. “Take care, honey!” he says just before the door shuts as he gives me a far kiss. I smile before I give him back a kiss. I can see a slight of his smiling lips before he closes the door.

Tik-tok, the clock says.

That is the only audible sound throughout the room. I sigh heavily and look to the right where I can find a sitting calendar and a red marker. I take both of them and sit the calendar on my blanket. I take a look at the crossed dates on the calendar. I open the red marker and give another cross to the date next to the last crossed date—yesterday.

Today is exactly the 189th day I have been hospitalized. I got numerous severe wounds everywhere on my body at that accident—a car crash. I was fortunate enough because my dad didn’t get too serious wounds so he could bring me to the hospital. I touch the cotton attached on my right eye. The doctor had already told me since long that my right eye is permanently blind. I couldn’t help from crying that day and I decided to keep this cotton on my right eye. I even regularly replace the cotton with a new one to avoid infections. The wounds I got from the crash are already fine, but my father says I still need to be hospitalized, but he never tells me why, though, I often feel weak every now and then.

I put the calendar back onto the desk next to my bed and see a vase in which a beautiful red rose is put. Next to it are cards from my friends, wishing me all the best so I can go to school again. Feeling bored by this monotonous circumstances, I lay my body on the bed, in the white warm blanket.

Dad is back. I can tell from the footsteps and finally from the twisted doorknob. “Yes, it’s me,” I can hear him talking to someone—I suppose. The doorknob goes back to its original position as dad continues talking to that someone. It seems that he is talking to someone far away from his phone.

“Yeah, I know, I can do nothing but to let her go.”

My heart thumps hard as my eyes are wide open. ‘Let her go’. Those words stab me right in the heart.

“Yes, today, I’m telling you.”

My whole body is trembling. I am terribly scared. Is this why dad and Mr. Stevenson—the doctor—never let me out of the hospital? Is it the due date already? My last day alive?

“It’s hard, though, but nothing I can do with the situation.”

Tears start to flow onto my left cheek. I close my eyes and gulp hard. I throw away my blanket to the side and tremblingly try to stand up from the bed. I open the dresser below my desk and find my cross. Praying makes me calm down in some situation. And sometimes, helps me decide what to do.

“Yes, yes, I repeat. This will be her last day.”

All is just too out of the blue. Maybe if dad and the doctor had explained this to me earlier, I would surely leave this world the way I should. I slowly walk toward the low glass window within the room. I unlock it and opened the glass wide, letting cold late-autumn morning winds in blowing my body. I take a deep breath before finally deciding that this is what I will do.

From my behind I can hear the doorknob starts to twist. I don’t need much courage to do this. I should have died from long. I climb the low glass window and jumped to the ground—from my room, on the 26th floor of the hospital. I close my eyes, trying to end my life calmly.

And after a second, I find out that my decision is wrong.

Totally wrong.

Up from the room, I still can hear my dad talking to someone from his phone.

“I know she’s a good secretary, but if she insists to leave, I can do nothing. I will come to the company in an hour.”

Author Notes: This story is actually based on the picture posted along with this story. The picture is not mine, though. A friend kindly asked me to make a story based on it. Anyway, any from of constructive reviews are very welcomed!

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