A Moment of Weakness
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these people or the ER they work in. The song used is "Everybody Hurts" by REM.
Authors Note: I got this idea from the movie "Magnolia". Its just a little piece about five of the characters going through a rough moment and one song that they share. Please read and review.
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Completely silent, without a breathe. The keys swing back and forth from the ignition. The low hum of the engine vibrates around him. He reaches out towards the swinging trinkets, but freezes mid-air. The sun is beginning to set. He is all alone. All alone. Looking down he sees the stiff corner of a card sticking out of his suit pocket. He pulls it out, looks at the picture of the Virgin Mary. Flipping it over, he reads. Millicent Carter. His eyes drift to the prayer below and he silently reads it over. He reads it over and over again, not sure how its supposed to comfort his aching heart. In the distance the casket is lowered into the ground and the wind blows some of the white rose petals into the air. Wiping away tears, he begins to hum a familiar hymn.
When your day is long
And the night
The night is yours alone
When you're sure
You've had
Enough of this life
Well hang on
A shaky hand wipes the face of a newborn baby. His eyes are closed, his lips are blue. The tiny chest is bruised from the forceful compressions, the desperate efforts of an angry doctor. She finishes wiping the babies face and carefully wraps her fingers around the tubing that emerges from the child's lips. With a squint of her eyes, the doctor removes the long tube from the babies throat. She stares at the face, expecting the eyes to squint or the mouth to cry. But there is nothing. Just stillness. She closes her eyes and imagines the baby that was once hers, the baby that was taken away. She can feel the pain in her heart as she remembers the day the rightful mother came home and took away her daughter, her niece. Now it was time to tell this little boys mother that her baby was taken away. Touching the tiny hand, permanently molded into a tight fist, the doctor sang a gently lullaby.
Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it's time to sing along
When your day is night alone
Hold on, hold on
If you feel like letting go
Hold on
If you think you've had
Too much of this life
Well hang on
The tall man watches as the baby shifts in his arms. Her tiny hands curl into fists and her eyes clench tightly shut. He whispers comforting words to her and she fusses and kicks him away. Touching her forehead, he winces. Her skin is flushed and her cry interrupted by periodic coughing. His eyes shift up to the window, where a car parks in front of the house. Out steps a beautiful young woman. From around the car comes a boy about her age, yet slightly taller. They embrace, and the man sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. Soon the girl walks towards the house and disappears from view. Loud footsteps can be heard as doors are slammed and music is heard just briefly until it is drowned out by the slam of another door. The man sighs again and looks down at the bundle in his arms. The baby is now closing her eyes and drifting off. He closes his own eyes and hums a soft tune.
'Cause everybody hurts
Take comfort
In your friends
Everybody hurts
Don't throw your hand
A hand reaches up and wipes the fog away from the glass. Revealed is the reflection of a dark haired woman. Her face is grim and she doesn't smile. She is wrapped in a towel and her short hair is wet and tangled. Picking up a comb the woman pulls it through her hair, unable to meet her own gaze in the mirror. Finally looking up, she is caught by her own brown eyes. The sorrow in them pierces her heart like spears. Dropping the comb, she stares at the woman before her. She swallows a developing lump in her throat and blinks several times. Small tear drops fall to her cheeks and she quickly brushes them away with her hands. She sniffles and runs her hand under her nose once. Shaking her head, the woman turns away from the mirror and quietly sings as she leaves the bathroom.
Well, everybody hurts
Sometimes
Everybody cries
And everybody hurts
Sometimes
The phone sits idly on the table, and the woman stares on. Her eyes barely move as her fingers gently glaze over its surface. She touches the number pad, fingers dancing over the keys hesitantly. Her gaze moves down to the scrap of paper sitting next to the phone. Seven numbers are printed on the paper. Above the numbers is a solitary word: Mom. Her eyes linger over the numbers, memorizing their order. In her mind she goes back and forth over the events of the day. The detective, the phone call, the papers. All lead her to this moment. Blinking herself out of the stupor, she takes another drink out of the shot glass. Shaking her head decidedly, she chants the words to a song she knows all too well. Reaching up with her hand, she turns off the lamp.
And everybody hurts
Sometimes
So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts
you are not alone
The End
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these people or the ER they work in. The song used is "Everybody Hurts" by REM.
Authors Note: I got this idea from the movie "Magnolia". Its just a little piece about five of the characters going through a rough moment and one song that they share. Please read and review.
==============================================================================
Completely silent, without a breathe. The keys swing back and forth from the ignition. The low hum of the engine vibrates around him. He reaches out towards the swinging trinkets, but freezes mid-air. The sun is beginning to set. He is all alone. All alone. Looking down he sees the stiff corner of a card sticking out of his suit pocket. He pulls it out, looks at the picture of the Virgin Mary. Flipping it over, he reads. Millicent Carter. His eyes drift to the prayer below and he silently reads it over. He reads it over and over again, not sure how its supposed to comfort his aching heart. In the distance the casket is lowered into the ground and the wind blows some of the white rose petals into the air. Wiping away tears, he begins to hum a familiar hymn.
When your day is long
And the night
The night is yours alone
When you're sure
You've had
Enough of this life
Well hang on
A shaky hand wipes the face of a newborn baby. His eyes are closed, his lips are blue. The tiny chest is bruised from the forceful compressions, the desperate efforts of an angry doctor. She finishes wiping the babies face and carefully wraps her fingers around the tubing that emerges from the child's lips. With a squint of her eyes, the doctor removes the long tube from the babies throat. She stares at the face, expecting the eyes to squint or the mouth to cry. But there is nothing. Just stillness. She closes her eyes and imagines the baby that was once hers, the baby that was taken away. She can feel the pain in her heart as she remembers the day the rightful mother came home and took away her daughter, her niece. Now it was time to tell this little boys mother that her baby was taken away. Touching the tiny hand, permanently molded into a tight fist, the doctor sang a gently lullaby.
Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it's time to sing along
When your day is night alone
Hold on, hold on
If you feel like letting go
Hold on
If you think you've had
Too much of this life
Well hang on
The tall man watches as the baby shifts in his arms. Her tiny hands curl into fists and her eyes clench tightly shut. He whispers comforting words to her and she fusses and kicks him away. Touching her forehead, he winces. Her skin is flushed and her cry interrupted by periodic coughing. His eyes shift up to the window, where a car parks in front of the house. Out steps a beautiful young woman. From around the car comes a boy about her age, yet slightly taller. They embrace, and the man sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. Soon the girl walks towards the house and disappears from view. Loud footsteps can be heard as doors are slammed and music is heard just briefly until it is drowned out by the slam of another door. The man sighs again and looks down at the bundle in his arms. The baby is now closing her eyes and drifting off. He closes his own eyes and hums a soft tune.
'Cause everybody hurts
Take comfort
In your friends
Everybody hurts
Don't throw your hand
A hand reaches up and wipes the fog away from the glass. Revealed is the reflection of a dark haired woman. Her face is grim and she doesn't smile. She is wrapped in a towel and her short hair is wet and tangled. Picking up a comb the woman pulls it through her hair, unable to meet her own gaze in the mirror. Finally looking up, she is caught by her own brown eyes. The sorrow in them pierces her heart like spears. Dropping the comb, she stares at the woman before her. She swallows a developing lump in her throat and blinks several times. Small tear drops fall to her cheeks and she quickly brushes them away with her hands. She sniffles and runs her hand under her nose once. Shaking her head, the woman turns away from the mirror and quietly sings as she leaves the bathroom.
Well, everybody hurts
Sometimes
Everybody cries
And everybody hurts
Sometimes
The phone sits idly on the table, and the woman stares on. Her eyes barely move as her fingers gently glaze over its surface. She touches the number pad, fingers dancing over the keys hesitantly. Her gaze moves down to the scrap of paper sitting next to the phone. Seven numbers are printed on the paper. Above the numbers is a solitary word: Mom. Her eyes linger over the numbers, memorizing their order. In her mind she goes back and forth over the events of the day. The detective, the phone call, the papers. All lead her to this moment. Blinking herself out of the stupor, she takes another drink out of the shot glass. Shaking her head decidedly, she chants the words to a song she knows all too well. Reaching up with her hand, she turns off the lamp.
And everybody hurts
Sometimes
So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts
you are not alone
The End