Mercy Death

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Mercy deathHave you ever sat down between you and yourself to paint the red line of right and wrong? Have you tried to label human behavior to what seems to be good and evil? When we once were small babies, nobody categorized how often we said bad words or how we continuously cried basically because we were too young to understand the norms of life. But when we grew up, somebody told us that we shouldn’t steal, that we shouldn’t lie. Of course we were confused to take orders without any clear e

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Mercy death
Have you ever sat down between you and yourself to paint the red line of right and wrong? Have you tried to label human behavior to what seems to be good and evil? When we once were small babies, nobody categorized how often we said bad words or how we continuously cried basically because we were too young to understand the norms of life. But when we grew up, somebody told us that we shouldn’t steal, that we shouldn’t lie. Of course we were confused to take orders without any clear explanation so we went out wondering why-- what the reason behind this strong disapproval is. They replied straight away that "it's wrong." Being wrong is like you are in an ethical battle with the whole world to hear you, but unfortunately your voice doesn’t extend that far. Being wrong is also known as bringing shame not only to your name, but also to your family and friends. Being wrong means that you broken a law that is once written in a dusty book that survived for thousands of years. Each law is coupled with a punishment so you would accept yet not understand how inappropriately you misbehaved even if the heart for some reason told you "I understand how right you were." My story was nothing but ordinary from the childhood to youth, a humble man living happily each moment. The words pain or sadness didn’t appear in my dictionary-- maybe because I was focusing on the good side of each lesson. How I enjoyed life to the fullest was a fairy tale. I owned a huge apartment in the city and I had an amazing car. I had the looks, money and women. Let's say that somehow joy and I made an agreement and luck was our witness. Everything was wonderful, everything made sense. With time, I left my foolish adventures to get married to the woman of my dreams. She meant the world to me that I decided to leave that world of existence and enter her world of fantasies. I was more than happy to marry such an angel. Every morning was bliss to see her face; every night was a curse to hide it. She wasn’t only my wife; she was also my soul mate. We had the same views about the future, none of us wanted to have kids or pets; we were selfish to share love with any other creatures. Years flew by living inseparably, hand by hand. Until … Until, that word that seems to carry nothing but misery, until she had night sweats and severe chest pain. Of course that time, she and I were old, walking with wooden sticks. And of course, medicine obviously couldn’t present a reasonable cure for her condition. I got very sad to see the life of my beloved darling fade in front of my eyes. What made it worse was the fact I could not do anything about it. I felt paralyzed. The only thing I could do is to sit next to her bed and keep on holding her hand like we once did and like we always promised to do. Age is the time that went by with all of a person's great accomplishments, discoveries of world mysteries, and broken dreams that we repeatedly try to forget, and most importantly, the sum of our stored memories. Those memories come in shapes and colors-some are quiet dark, while others are crystal pure that we smile as soon

as we recall them. It seemed to me I had wasted almost half of my life sharing memories with this woman that was now lying still in bed. "Water, water … I want water." I stared at an empty space hearing her shouting. I replied, "Yes dear, do you need anything else?" Silence was all I could hear. I was preparing to ask her again when she announced "I don’t want to live anymore." I know for sure that she was ill in her body, but I didn’t know she was also ill in her mind. "But why? Life is beautiful." "If life was beautiful, why did it wrinkle what used to be my skin? If life was beautiful, why did it hurt me like this? If you are so sure life was beautiful, why am I counting the days to leave it?" I didn’t reply to her; I just knew that was pain speaking, not the woman I love. After a week, the situation got uglier; blood was coming out from her mouth, and she was in way too much pain. And yes, I was still paralyzed. I afforded for her care, food, warmth, but none seems to please her, none could stop the suffering. Every time that I tried to talk to her she would either ignore my company or pretend to sleep. "Are you awake? Do you want me bring you another blanket?" I softy questioned her ears, "No." she continued. "Am … am afraid." "What are you afraid of dear? I am next to you," but what I really wanted to say was “I am afraid, too.” "It's difficult to understand it, but I can no longer handle this fear, the fear of the unknown," She noticed the surprised expression reflected in me, so she explained, "death is not on that list, everybody going to taste it, why would I be afraid of the after-life and why would I be afraid of my body going back to what it used to be-- without this soul, it is nothing" she coughed red spots "what I am afraid of is waiting for that death to arrive. It started with annoying pain at night, now I am bleeding not only blood, but also faith. I do not desire this life." This time, I was the one that was paused. I was suffocating inside, and my eyes were getting gradually salty. "But … but" I was lost in my own vocabulary. "There is no but, life is about making decisions and I made mine. I know that you might disagree and I am not saying it's also right, I just need to relieve my fears." I guess hope couldn’t sign a contract with me like joy had, so I was shocked when I heard myself say "is that … is that your final decision?" She exhaled heavily before she could say "yes" That night was cold and dark. The snow was kissing the earth and the earth was happy to have somebody next to it so it wouldn't face nature alone. In my view, loneliness is when you lose your connection with the world; people might be surrounded by millions of people, by animals, or even by their loved ones yet they feel all by themselves. My dear wife was strong enough to admit her fear, and my fear was loneliness. What if

somebody’s fear is contradicted with the other's? I just had those visions that her fear of the unknown will motivate my fear of loneliness. Part of me couldn’t accept that I would be able to continue without her, to open up to the world, while the other part believed in giving rest to the sick. She was writing something when I entered the room with a cup of herb tea. "I made your favorite" I said with a warm smile. But she was too busy to return my smile. "Ok, we don’t want it to get cold, so …" she took a long time then gravely her lips moved "I’m finished now" she handed me the paper "please read it when am not around." I unconsciously hid it in my pocket and asked her if she wanted a spoon of brown sugar in it. "No No, I have another plan more urgent than that, I decided to do it tonight but I need your help." How can I answer such a question when I was still in a semi-denial stage that everything will somehow be ok? If I said no, she will never forgive me and hence I won't forgive myself. If I said yes, I would commit a crime that I play a victim role in. "Please, I need you" I raised my eyes to see her shiny eyes puffed, her sweet face swollen, her body shrunken and her spirit vanished. Yet I continued to ignore the evidence."How … how I can help? How can I harm the only person who gave me nothing but love, it's too much to ask for." That was my heart defending itself from that contagious pain. She shook her hand in response, "Fine, if you really worship all that shared love, you wouldn’t question my demand. Please, for once, let our love speak for itself." I was holding my head between my hands. Love is the most powerful magic; it casts spells for fate and faith, but does it have a spell for death? She was tired of waiting for death, but she was way more exhausted to wait for my doubtable cure, my love. Thoughts were surrounding me when I felt cold soft fingers over my skin. I raised my head to see her eyes glowing with suffering then she pointed to the pillow "please, my soul has been dead for so long that it misses its body" It took me forever to gather myself together then I slowly stood up, grabbed the pillow tightly and just then when I was about to do it, I heard her whispering "I love you too." Looking back to what happened. I realized that her end is something I always knew, sort of a silent understanding with myself, but life went on. I did not only lose my wife, I also lost a big part of my humanity. I killed a person, a person I loved more than anything. I still have visions about our wedding day when we stood close to each other promising that only death can tear us apart. It's ironic how one of us was having an affair with death. I didn’t hide, cut or dump her stoned body in the garbage; I just sat next to her holding her hand, oh how natural it always felt. That’s my story till now, how I ended up here, in this narrow cell. They think that locking me up here will make me feel bad about what I have done, but I just knew feeling bad comes from the heart not from people’s authority. They came with their loud siren to take an old man to prison, me and the pillow, because we both were guilty. I was guilty to release my

love freely and the pillow was guilty to help me prove it. They asked me to confess my crime, to explain why and how I did it, to replay the whole scenario all over again, but I kept my silence and just replied that "she's with god now, she is happy and being happy means I was right." God gave us two eyes to see-- if you tried to look with one eye it varies significantly from the view of having only the other eye open. If such a difference exists in just one person, nobody can imagine how different each man sees the world. My view wasn’t even close to their views because they still see me as a cold-blooded criminal, while I saw and still see myself as a faithful sacrificing lover. I didn’t hire a lawyer and refused to connect to the people around me. So they made a decision that I don’t deserve to live anymore. That I don’t deserve to eat, sleep and feel because I took that away from another individual. I counted the days I had left; the hours I am allowed to stay with a beating heart and the breaths that I can take. It wasn’t much; it was only a couple of hours left now for the heart to pump its thickening blood. I knew that time will end soon enough. I walked to have a last look through the metal window, to say goodbye to my ex-- happy luck. I saw a sea, a sea with splashing waves. The sound reminded me of my innocent thoughts when I was nine, of my nasty jokes when I was eighteen, and my clueless misery when I am fiftyfive all together. Did I have a choice? Was it all meant to be, or was I just moving toward to the edge of a map without any other paths? Am I really going to leave this world? They are going to kill me from the inside, but what is there to kill when I am filled with fear. So I laid my head against the wall, then immediately I heard a thudding sound. It was a piece of paper, my dead wife’s piece of paper. I opened it with difficulty and this was what I could see: "My dear caring husband, If you are reading this, it means that am gone now and you are all alone. Honey, do you remember what I said when you asked me to marry you? I said yes and we both were drunk and happy. You made me happy every moment that I was next to you, you made me happy when you told me that you don’t want kids because secretly you knew I wasn’t able to conceive. And now, you made me happy to limit my pain. I know how it feels to be alone in this world of demons; people will make you pay a price of my happiness. I just want you to know that you are not alone in this world, please don’t be afraid, even if I was erased because I gave you something I can’t take back, I gave you my heart. And even if the whole world does not make sense at all, let it be and just live with an idea that one day you are going to shut that door off and enter another one where I will be waiting for you. We will be together because death won't tear us apart; death is a phase to make us realize how much we belong to another. And we do belong… Yours truly,

Your patient wife I held it too tightly with my hands, which was mixed with my tears and sorrow. My sweetheart, I don’t desire this life when I lost my soul with you, I don’t desire to wake up in the morning to see a smile of my fear, my loneliness. I miss you so badly that am talking to myself now. The sun was rising outside, but my own sun had faded long time ago. I wanted to read it over again, but it was soaked with water and ink. I wasn’t comfortable saying those harsh words about myself, but it was the truth. Time wasn’t on my side, but love was. This love can beat all other feelings including fear. I am not afraid of being alone anymore. I was with her, my guardian angel. I stood patiently while the huge guy tightens a robe over my neck. "It's going to be really fast, you won’t feel a thing" and it took him a couple of minutes to prepare for the execution. All I could think about in those intense minutes that life isn’t worth living after you lose interest in it. It was as if no one else existed at that particular moment. After they announced that everything was ready and just before they pushed me I thought with a high voice "And if death would make me accept being wrong, then I am an idiot creature because my heart decided that I am more than right."

THE END

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