The Test
Padding her broken old feet across the chilliness of the hospital floor, Mary made her way back to her forbidding room – a cave that has become all too familiar. Her beauty is swallowed by an anaemic complexion that can no longer be hidden behind locks of flaxen hair. Carefully crept over to her unwelcoming bed, and perched delicately on the end. Illuminated by only a single light, she slipped a fragile hand into the pocket of her crimson dressing gown.
Pulling out a folded piece of paper, Mary breathed in the scent of fresh ink. The crumpled sound of opening paper is amplified by the deadly silence of her darkened room. With trembling fingers, she caressed the printed words that revealed 'Testament of Mary Smith'. Letting a single hot tear stream through the wrinkles of her enfeebled face, she murmured "why me?"
She let a dozen more tears escape from the depths of her heavy stinging eyes. Her tears where the brutal evidence of a shattered woman, plagued with the agonising test of a terminal illness.
Mary leaned over and grasped a pen. Reluctantly, she allowed her will to spill out onto the page, naming every individual item and relation in list. "I hereby make, publish and declare this document to be my last will and testament." She grumbled with a lump in her throat as she fought the urge to cry. She felt numb at the thought of leaving her beloved family, namely her daughter, Annie.
She remembered their girly days together; a healthy care-free mother with her angelic fair-haired daughter. Mary would sit for hours brushing, plaiting and curling her hair into gorgeous styles. Even with the absence of her daughter, she could clearly fantasize the sweet scent of her freshly washed hair. Mary had told Annie not to visit, as Mary wished to keep her happiest memories to her forefront of her mind.
Deep in thought Mary collapsed into the pit of her bed, still clutching the testament. "I'm 54," She sobbed. "I shouldn't have had to write this for… another thirty years or so!" Distraught and saddened, Mary slipped the testament back onto her bedside table. She let heavy sigh escape from her chapped lips as she continued to think about her previous life; the one before this unexpected turn of events. Curling herself into a knotted ball, Mary allowed herself to drift off into a peaceful slumber.
Mary, a once admired woman, never woke up.
Doctors and nurses scurried down the corridors, machinery towing behind. The squeal of wheels echoed along the corridor floor, accompanied by the clambered footsteps of dozens of people. Bursting into Mary's chamber, they were greeted with the unnerving sight of the deceased. Letting a slender finger slip underneath Mary's chin, the doctor pressed gently in search of a pulse. "Doctor… are we too late?" whispered a student nurse. Covering Mary's face with the hospital quilt, the doctor cocked his head to one side and slowly nodded.
Today there sits a grave, which is frequently visited by Annie; a dishevelled girl mourning the death of her mother. The grave is in memory of her, with the obligatory words of 'RIP Mary Smith' inscribed on the front. Her cause of death? Cancer.