Scintilla

4. I Know Enough

Before

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The machines create a cacophony of sounds. Almost enough to quiet the Doctor's soft voice.

"There's nothing else left to do,"  he repeats. His face is weary and his eyes are sorrowful. His hand reaches out as if to grasp my shoulder before it retreats. He must remember how I reacted the last time I was touched by a nurse.

I remain silent. What can I say in such a situation? I prayed and I hoped that this tragedy would end. That at least she would be spared. So much death but not hers. Please don't take her too. Sleepless nights spend kneeling to a God that had long abandoned me. Four caskets. One funeral. But not hers. There is no mercy for fools and there is no bigger fool than me.

The doctor continues, "You must decide when to pull the plug."

I want to scream. I want to rage, turn the world upside down, and see everything burn. Maybe then people would feel a tiny fraction of what I'm feeling. I don't say anything. I don't say that she's eight. That she's so young. That there's so much left to give. I don't talk about her favorite color, pink, or how she loved to swing. I don't talk about eyes too old for her young face. As the doctor said there's nothing left. Nothing.

***

If there is one word I could use to describe the silence then I would pick oppressive. A suffocating force consuming my side of the room. Of course, Lucas and Amber were caught up in their bubble. Their eyes locked, smiles loving, as they both took the time to look at the menu. On the other hand, Michael and I were caught in an impasse. Neither of us tried to make small conversation.

My mind is overheated. Working overtime to sort through the different obstacles it is currently encountering. Lucas's open display of his affection was expected but whatever preparations I thought I had made went out the door the moment I witnessed their love in action. I'm currently avoiding glancing their way or attempting to draw them into the conversation as a weak attempt to gain my composure and to further safeguard my heart for as long as possible.

Michael is proving to be an unexpected obstacle. While his intimidating size and aura had momentarily locked me in my past, I would've overcome any awkwardness if only he wasn't so intense. His silence, the fierce intent of his regard, feel like a thousand swords are pointed at my body each length of gleaming metal patiently waiting for a misstep.

I lick my dry lips as I finally gather my courage to look up. Only to be captured by his stare. I smile at him hoping that it will break the spell he has cast upon us.

Michael frowns in response, "How long have you known Lucas?"

His voice startles me. It is deep and smooth. It is a voice that should be soothing, made to give speeches and capture the attention of the room, instead, there is a mocking undertone to his words. I don't know why he is acting like this when this is our first meeting. I analyze his body language. His legs are spread, broad shoulders up, and his chest out. Am I an enemy waiting for execution?

Indignation wells up inside of me. I will not bow to such callous treatment. No matter how subtle.

Any hesitation that remained due to his size was extinguished by my anger. I lean back, the picture of calmness and confidence.