The views in this chapter are not the views of the author. This is a realistic view of the world around us

Garden State Hospice Care Jersey City, New Jersey

2:56 pm

Abraham Hockenstein stared out the window at his old and faithful friend, the New York skyline. It seems to stare back at him with its usual cheerful hello .It was the only joy he seemed to get out of life these days.

Abraham was a wealthy jeweler in the 80's, on top of the world as you might say. That is, until the dreadful day he found out he had prostate cancer. The years went by and the pain only seemed to get worse. In the end he had to sell his house in order to pay for the hospice care he was receiving, which was a big blow to his already inflated ego.

His peace was broken by Ophellia White, his nurse, trying to get his door open. It was medication time.

"Damn these doors!" she exclaimed through the door, "This old building, one of these days I'm gonna need to git in here and I won't be able to."

The door finally opened grudgingly and a large statured black woman whom Abraham despised came crashing through the door. Like most men in his position, with his background would hate their connection with their care.

"Mr. Stein, it's time fo' yo' medicine and I don't want no trouble today." Ophellia said taking a syringe and a package of morphine. To save time she always brought everyone's medication so she didn't have to keep running back to the supply closet.

"I don't want the likes of you touching me, you unclean heathen!" he exclaimed not moving from his spot by the window. His speech lowered enough where she didn't hear him call her a 'damn shvatza'.

"Now Mr. Stein we don't wan no trouble now do we?" She replied stepping towards him.

"I don't want your filthy hands on me!" he snapped raising his cane, "Also my name is Abraham Hockenstein. Not Abe or Mr. Stein, it is Abraham Hockenstein!"

"Oh Lawd why do I git the hard ones?" She asked to nobody in particular. Just then her cell phone started to ring; the ringtone was 'Runaway Love' by Ludacris.

"Hello?" she said the door behind her began to slowly close but it never reached the door jam.

"I paid that damn light bill! Ya'll best not shut off my juice!" Ophellia walked into the hallway to talk leaving the morphine and the syringes on the table by the door the door again closing slowly behind her.

Abraham could see her talking in the hallway; someone had said the wrong thing to her. She was waving her arms dramatically and yelling about all the money she pays to these people, how dare they treat her like that, and if she was living in HUD housing they wouldn't be having this conversation.

"Heathen…" he muttered wheeling closer to the door and the morphine.

Ophellia stopped midsentence and her cell phone dropped on the floor shattering to what seemed to be a thousand pieces. She blinked, looked around, and charged after an orderly. The orderly threw up his arms to protect himself but to no avail; she managed to rip his throat apart. Turning she spotted Abraham and started towards him.

The orderly laid on the ground, blood poured from his neck as he whispered a small prayer aloud: "Lord, protect the rest." He expired in a gasp of blood.

Abraham wide-eyed pushed his cane against the door with all his strength and managed to shut it right before she got to it. He could hear her banging on the door trying to get in. If the building had not been so old- any other door would've had a glass window to allow Ophellia, or what was left of her, to reach through the door. Grabbing the morphine syringe he wheeled over to his favorite spot by the window. Hands shaking he managed to self medicate the entire dose which was three times what he was to be administered.

"Adonai please forgive me." He said with tears in his eyes as he shoved the needle in his protruding vein.

A few moments later Ophellia managed to get the door open. She bared her teeth at him snarling.

Abraham stared at his beloved city one last time. "So long my good friend, you have been faithful to me, I wish time would allow us more days."

As the syringe fell from his opening hand the city stared back at him with smoke trailing upwards and seemed to cry out at him "Help."

As her teeth touched his neck she could sense there was no life left in his old frail body. He died seconds before Ophellia could kill him, thus no feast for Ophellia.

No big loss.