A Deathly Silence
They were all there as he died. Clustered around the bed, tear-filled eyes watched his chest rise less and less frequently, heaving in its efforts to draw oxygen into the failing body. The only sound in the room was the wheeze of a dying man's last breaths and the rattle of his cramped lungs. They'd tried to convince him to go on a respirator to make his last hours a little easier but the thought of not being able to tell his family and friends he loved them one more time had frightened him away from the idea. Fear had been a constant entity for all of them. Hands, one pale, one dark, rested upon his bandaged fists, trying to somehow reassure the frightened man and give him the strength to miraculously heal. It was too late for him though. He'd known that as soon as they'd pulled him out of that building. It was just a matter of time before his heart stilled and his brain relaxed into a final sleep.
Tears had rolled for hours, dampening cheeks through pleading apologies and heartrending goodbyes. It felt like they'd never stop, the hurt and sadness and guilt too overwhelming to ever die. His tears had never come, he knew they wouldn't help now, nothing would. The fear that had bubbled inside him was still there, but he was calm now, knowing that although he was leaving everything that mattered to him, he'd be in a place with no pain. Memories of joy and heartache, excitement and disappointment, love and fear, swam unseen between minds, reminding them all of better times they'd spent together. This would never be one of those times for any of them, they were saying goodbye to one that had brought them the most magical times of their lives.
Respiration was becoming more difficult, each breath providing less needed oxygen to his expiring flesh. Each inhalation shuddered through his body, trying to expand the contracted muscles. Just a short while and his lungs would fade altogether, unable to sustain life. Dark eyes drifted over the bowed heads to the lightening window. The new day was approaching, one he knew he wouldn't live to see. This was the last night of his life. At least he'd spent the time before with his closest friend. If he'd known how it was going to end, he would've enjoyed it more, drank in every last shred of experience he could gather. Its conclusion had been unexpected, frightening and unreal even as the flames had rippled around his trapped body, searing his skin. His gaze drifted back towards the man huddled in a wheelchair by his left side. The soot-streaked head was still bowed, unable to face the coming event. He was going to miss the man that had become like a brother to him in the years they'd known each other. Turning his bandaged hand over, he squeezed the reddened fingers, trying to provide the inconsolable friend with some morsel of faith or forgiveness to guide him out of his own darkness.
Quiet female sobs began to drift into his cloth-covered ears from the other side of the bed. The woman that had bought him into this world was losing the strength she had displayed earlier. A gasping breath shuddered into her chest as she tried to resume control, but it was too late, the exhaustion and devastation had burst through. Her husband's arm tightened around her, trying to bring the sobs to a halt, but his own upset was slowly overcoming him. The bandaged hand slid out from beneath his mother's delicate fingers, coming to rest on top of them, squeezing gently through the layers of cloth. His leaving was the hardest thing in world for all to deal with. Hopes of his holding on were gone, lost deep in that charred apartment building, somehow they would have to cope with this and continue.
An attempted breath dissolved into a wracking cough, his ruined chest fighting to expand and release the oxygen trapped within. His back arched off of the behemoth of a bed, struggling to inhale the needed elements. Frightened eyes rose as one, all fastening on the wheezing body, thrashing for help. A green robed figure stepped forward, reaching behind the bed to the oxygen of life sustaining gas, cranking up the dial to try and ease the nearing end for the struggling man. Fresh air flowed soothingly into his lungs, easing the cramping muscles enough for a ragged breath to be drawn in. The bandage swamped figure slowly collapsed back against the pillows; the thrashing eased as oxygen began getting through to the dying tissue. Exhaustion swamped him, the exertion of that last fight had sapped his energy, dragging him nearer the end. Unable to stay open, the dark lashed eyelids fluttered shut as he passed into unconsciousness.
Fear froze the watchers. They waited agonisingly for the bandage-encased chest to rise again. The end couldn't have come so soon, none of them were ready to let go, they never would be, but it couldn't be happening so soon. Silence descended, a mother's sobs quieted as she strained to hear her child's breathing. It seemed an eternity before air whistled into the still chest, lifting the thin covers just enough to be noticed. Sighs of relief echoed around the room, he was holding on, fighting the inevitable.
Pale fingers joined those already laid on the injured man, coming to rest on top of the blond paramedic's. The friend who was convinced that it was his stupidity that had bought them all into this crowded room let the reassuring touch stay this time. Pulling away earlier, he had rejected the sanctuary offered to him by the only one that could console him. The unconscious figure had wanted the blond to know that his guilt was misplaced, but that had been hidden from. Blame had made itself a permanent resident in his friend.
Slow moments passed again before the chest rose a second time. Exhaustion had drawn him closer to the edge in a flying leap, the coughing fit having taken its toll on the expiring flesh. Nothing short of intubation and a respirator would prolong the inevitable now and he hadn't wanted that. He'd wanted to go peacefully, not sustained by tubes and machines powering his corpse. They knew that their final goodbye was going to happen in the next few minutes. Alarms, preparing themselves to screech as his systems finally failed, were silenced in advance by the flick of a switch. His passing would be felt harshly enough without the announcement given by beeping machines.
Tears, held on pause by the tension of the drama, resumed their trails down damp cheeks. He'd only wished that his passing had not been accompanied by such sadness but it was unavoidable, his premature death was soul destroying. The moisture blurred their vision but as one they watched his breathing slow with each passing second. Longer pauses hung in the air between the fall and awaited rising of his chest. Time extended, seconds spinning into minutes. They held on, praying futilely that the moment his heart finally stopped would never come. On the tiny screen the rising peaks of his pulse drew apart, the tiny green figures slowly falling from 80 to 75 to 60, spiralling down towards flatline.
One more breath wheezed in from the mask, being held for a long heartbeat before the exhalation misted the plastic. Almost a minute stretched by as their eyes strained for the tiniest movement of his chest, finally it came, a slow intake that was followed by a long exhale. For almost five minutes they waited for it to be repeated, anxious silent prayers filled the air, pleading for a miracle that they all knew would never happen. The doctor stepped forward again, switching off the machines one by one, the flatlined heart-monitor the last to wink into darkness. His quiet voice filled the air, announcing the despised news. "Time of death six fifteen am."
Anguished sobs emerged from the family; the support and strength that had been required through the night could finally collapse to be replaced by their phenomenal grief. They clustered together on one side of the body, still needing to be near him. One last call in overtime had changed their lives beyond comprehension. In just a few days their son and brother would be placed in the ground.
His best friend remained silent. The paramedic's outburst of devastation and guilt had flowed out earlier, leaving him with his emotions bubbling quietly inside, eating away at his heart. Next to him, the only other person close to him leaned nearer to him. He didn't pull away or complain as her arms slipped around him. Without saying a word he turned away from the body, every muscle in his body trembling, and threw himself into her embrace. Burying his face in her dark curls he let the tears fall. His quavering voice emerged in a whisper, barely audible to the other mourners in the room. "God bless you Raul."
They were all there as he died. Clustered around the bed, tear-filled eyes watched his chest rise less and less frequently, heaving in its efforts to draw oxygen into the failing body. The only sound in the room was the wheeze of a dying man's last breaths and the rattle of his cramped lungs. They'd tried to convince him to go on a respirator to make his last hours a little easier but the thought of not being able to tell his family and friends he loved them one more time had frightened him away from the idea. Fear had been a constant entity for all of them. Hands, one pale, one dark, rested upon his bandaged fists, trying to somehow reassure the frightened man and give him the strength to miraculously heal. It was too late for him though. He'd known that as soon as they'd pulled him out of that building. It was just a matter of time before his heart stilled and his brain relaxed into a final sleep.
Tears had rolled for hours, dampening cheeks through pleading apologies and heartrending goodbyes. It felt like they'd never stop, the hurt and sadness and guilt too overwhelming to ever die. His tears had never come, he knew they wouldn't help now, nothing would. The fear that had bubbled inside him was still there, but he was calm now, knowing that although he was leaving everything that mattered to him, he'd be in a place with no pain. Memories of joy and heartache, excitement and disappointment, love and fear, swam unseen between minds, reminding them all of better times they'd spent together. This would never be one of those times for any of them, they were saying goodbye to one that had brought them the most magical times of their lives.
Respiration was becoming more difficult, each breath providing less needed oxygen to his expiring flesh. Each inhalation shuddered through his body, trying to expand the contracted muscles. Just a short while and his lungs would fade altogether, unable to sustain life. Dark eyes drifted over the bowed heads to the lightening window. The new day was approaching, one he knew he wouldn't live to see. This was the last night of his life. At least he'd spent the time before with his closest friend. If he'd known how it was going to end, he would've enjoyed it more, drank in every last shred of experience he could gather. Its conclusion had been unexpected, frightening and unreal even as the flames had rippled around his trapped body, searing his skin. His gaze drifted back towards the man huddled in a wheelchair by his left side. The soot-streaked head was still bowed, unable to face the coming event. He was going to miss the man that had become like a brother to him in the years they'd known each other. Turning his bandaged hand over, he squeezed the reddened fingers, trying to provide the inconsolable friend with some morsel of faith or forgiveness to guide him out of his own darkness.
Quiet female sobs began to drift into his cloth-covered ears from the other side of the bed. The woman that had bought him into this world was losing the strength she had displayed earlier. A gasping breath shuddered into her chest as she tried to resume control, but it was too late, the exhaustion and devastation had burst through. Her husband's arm tightened around her, trying to bring the sobs to a halt, but his own upset was slowly overcoming him. The bandaged hand slid out from beneath his mother's delicate fingers, coming to rest on top of them, squeezing gently through the layers of cloth. His leaving was the hardest thing in world for all to deal with. Hopes of his holding on were gone, lost deep in that charred apartment building, somehow they would have to cope with this and continue.
An attempted breath dissolved into a wracking cough, his ruined chest fighting to expand and release the oxygen trapped within. His back arched off of the behemoth of a bed, struggling to inhale the needed elements. Frightened eyes rose as one, all fastening on the wheezing body, thrashing for help. A green robed figure stepped forward, reaching behind the bed to the oxygen of life sustaining gas, cranking up the dial to try and ease the nearing end for the struggling man. Fresh air flowed soothingly into his lungs, easing the cramping muscles enough for a ragged breath to be drawn in. The bandage swamped figure slowly collapsed back against the pillows; the thrashing eased as oxygen began getting through to the dying tissue. Exhaustion swamped him, the exertion of that last fight had sapped his energy, dragging him nearer the end. Unable to stay open, the dark lashed eyelids fluttered shut as he passed into unconsciousness.
Fear froze the watchers. They waited agonisingly for the bandage-encased chest to rise again. The end couldn't have come so soon, none of them were ready to let go, they never would be, but it couldn't be happening so soon. Silence descended, a mother's sobs quieted as she strained to hear her child's breathing. It seemed an eternity before air whistled into the still chest, lifting the thin covers just enough to be noticed. Sighs of relief echoed around the room, he was holding on, fighting the inevitable.
Pale fingers joined those already laid on the injured man, coming to rest on top of the blond paramedic's. The friend who was convinced that it was his stupidity that had bought them all into this crowded room let the reassuring touch stay this time. Pulling away earlier, he had rejected the sanctuary offered to him by the only one that could console him. The unconscious figure had wanted the blond to know that his guilt was misplaced, but that had been hidden from. Blame had made itself a permanent resident in his friend.
Slow moments passed again before the chest rose a second time. Exhaustion had drawn him closer to the edge in a flying leap, the coughing fit having taken its toll on the expiring flesh. Nothing short of intubation and a respirator would prolong the inevitable now and he hadn't wanted that. He'd wanted to go peacefully, not sustained by tubes and machines powering his corpse. They knew that their final goodbye was going to happen in the next few minutes. Alarms, preparing themselves to screech as his systems finally failed, were silenced in advance by the flick of a switch. His passing would be felt harshly enough without the announcement given by beeping machines.
Tears, held on pause by the tension of the drama, resumed their trails down damp cheeks. He'd only wished that his passing had not been accompanied by such sadness but it was unavoidable, his premature death was soul destroying. The moisture blurred their vision but as one they watched his breathing slow with each passing second. Longer pauses hung in the air between the fall and awaited rising of his chest. Time extended, seconds spinning into minutes. They held on, praying futilely that the moment his heart finally stopped would never come. On the tiny screen the rising peaks of his pulse drew apart, the tiny green figures slowly falling from 80 to 75 to 60, spiralling down towards flatline.
One more breath wheezed in from the mask, being held for a long heartbeat before the exhalation misted the plastic. Almost a minute stretched by as their eyes strained for the tiniest movement of his chest, finally it came, a slow intake that was followed by a long exhale. For almost five minutes they waited for it to be repeated, anxious silent prayers filled the air, pleading for a miracle that they all knew would never happen. The doctor stepped forward again, switching off the machines one by one, the flatlined heart-monitor the last to wink into darkness. His quiet voice filled the air, announcing the despised news. "Time of death six fifteen am."
Anguished sobs emerged from the family; the support and strength that had been required through the night could finally collapse to be replaced by their phenomenal grief. They clustered together on one side of the body, still needing to be near him. One last call in overtime had changed their lives beyond comprehension. In just a few days their son and brother would be placed in the ground.
His best friend remained silent. The paramedic's outburst of devastation and guilt had flowed out earlier, leaving him with his emotions bubbling quietly inside, eating away at his heart. Next to him, the only other person close to him leaned nearer to him. He didn't pull away or complain as her arms slipped around him. Without saying a word he turned away from the body, every muscle in his body trembling, and threw himself into her embrace. Burying his face in her dark curls he let the tears fall. His quavering voice emerged in a whisper, barely audible to the other mourners in the room. "God bless you Raul."