Denial's Not Just a Feeling

Bless Me?

              He sat in the waiting room, his fingers twitching in all directions. He looked around nervously and felt into his combat boot. He grasped the cold, metal tip and pulled it out slowly and carefully, continuing to look around to make sure no one was watching him. He pulled it out and hid it behind his back. He carefully leaned back in the plastic seat and removed his hand from his back so nothing looked suspicious. A nurse came his way. She gave him a weak smile, but said nothing as she approached him.

                “What?” He sneered. He was annoyed that everyone there was trying to make him feel safe and relaxed when all he had was anxiety and the jitters.

                She nipped at her bottom lip and clasped her hands in front of her. “Your mother is gone,” she spoke quietly and with all the sympathy he’s ever been given.

                He only nodded. He was expecting this news, but a while before. He thought his mother was already gone. Well, she was already too far along for anyone to do anything to save her. They seemed to keep her alive only to torture her.

                Sick basters, he hissed inwardly. They will pay.

                “Would you like me to call—“

                “Let me see my mother,” he demanded emotionlessly.

                The nurse too shocked to do anything but nod.

                He slid his hand to quickly grasp the object behind him and put it in his jacket before the nurse could see what he was holding. He rounded her and stepped down the hallway to his mother’s room. His fingers kept twitching in anticipation as he walked.

                The walls and doctors and nurses seem to pass by in a blur as he walked towards his mother’s room, seeing nothing but white everything. He walked into his mother’s room to see his mother already being covered by the blanket and all the machines she was hooked up to being shut down.

                The doctor unhooking her oxygen turned around and looked at the boy sadly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

                He looked into the doctor’s eyes; pity. Of course there would be pity. Everyone shows him pity! Why? Because now he had only one parent and he is god knows where. He walked up to him and quickly took the object out of his coat, striking him with it.

                The doctor went down with a thud and he jumped on him, filling the doctor’s head to the ground and straddling his waist. The doctor beneath him looked scared as hell, just how he liked them. He struck the doctor in the forehead, ripping the knife out then going for a quick blow to the throat.

                It all happened too fast for the doctor to struggle or to scream for his life. The doctor went limp beneath the boy and his eyes stayed wide opened, staring up at the boy with lifeless eyes. He got off of the doctor and glared at him. “What a sad excuse for a doctor, not even letting the son take one last look at his mother’s body,” he muttered to himself as he spat on him. “Pathetic,” he shook his head and placed the object back in the inside pocket of his jacket after wiping the doctor’s blood on his pants.

                He carefully removed the sheet from over his mother’s face and looked at her. He lightly traced the features of her now cold skin and the strands of hair that were in perfect waves-as always. Her lips were perched softly together and her eye lids laid lightly over her eyes. “Mother,” he looked at the dead doctor on the ground then back at his mother’s body. “Don’t worry about me anymore, okay? I’m not like...” he pierced his lips together as he thought. His body started to shake but he stroked his mother’s hair to try and calm himself down enough to continue. “him. I’m not dumb or stupid like he is, mother. I-I’m c-caref-ful,” he stuttered slightly, ”mother. I won’t get caught. Really.”

                He bent down and placed a soft kiss on his mother’s cold forehead and walked towards the door. He stopped at the door and bowed his head. “Good night, mother,” he whispered to her as he left the room with the object secured in the inside coat pocket.