Famous Last Words

The hospital lights above me are glowing bright. They are blinding. I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. Around me, my family stands, watching me. Staring at me. Will they ever leave? It is true that I like them here, that having them here comforts me, but they've been standing around doing nothing since the beginning of the day. I love my family. I do. But they have their own lives. They don't need to stand around watching me fade away hour after hour, day by day, do they?

The sight of their sad faces makes me want to cry, but I hold strong. Instead, I look at them. I look at them straight in the face. Through all their terror and pain, they know it's coming soon. They know my end is inevitable, that it's right around the corner and there's nothing they can do about it. They know that soon, I'll be nothing. Nothing but a pile of dust in a coffin buried six feet in the ground. They know that soon, I'll be gone.

No one's ever died this young in my family. I'm the first. Barely twenty years old and I've fallen into the arms of a lethal disease that the doctors don't know how to treat. How ironic that I've been able to save a dozen lives in my short lifespan, yet when it comes to my own, I'm a goner.

My sigh draws attention to me, the dark eyes of several family members instantly lifting to mine. Probably wondering if I'm dead yet, no doubt. They've been here since the first day I'd been brought into the hospital, and they're sticking around until the end. But I can't doubt, however, that they're all just waiting for me to pass on. Not to say they don't care or anything, because they definitely do. But they're scared. I wish I could comfort them and tell them everything is going to be okay, but we all know that that isn't the case.

The bright hospital room is annoying, like a gnat swimming in the air around my head. The lights reflect off the bare, white walls and shocks my eyes enough to where I seem to constantly be squinting. Eventually, it's too much, and I say softly, “Can someone please turn the lights off...?” In an instant, I'm cloaked in darkness. The feeling is relieving. I can't see my family any more. It feels as if I'm alone. I'm so... alone...



“I don't know if I can do it, Ted,” I hear a voice whisper, my mind hovering in the land between being asleep and awake. I comprehend what they're saying, but I'm too tired to respond myself. I can only listen helplessly as my mother's voice cries on. “I don't know if I can let him go.”

“I know, Lauren,” my father says, his voice tender. I imagine that he's probably embracing her, comforting her in a way that I no longer am capable of, for it's hard to move without feeling entirely drained. “I don't know if I can either.”

Voices chatter around me, disturbing the somewhat peaceful moment I'd been having.

“Mommy, is Andrew going to die?”

“Sweetheart...”

“Of course he's going to die, Ashley!”

“Mommy, is he going to heaven?”

“Chris!”

“What?” my little cousin says. I can sense he's probably glaring at her. “It's true, Auntie Lauren! Andrew is going to die! And there's nothing we can do about it!” I hear the quiver in his voice, the horror that he's holding back. He's going to cry. But before he cries in front of anyone–

I hear the door slam, and I assume that he's probably run off to cry in private.

Though not my brother, Chris and I are as close as I am with my own sister, Ashley. His parents died while exploring a coral reef around Australia. The tide had pulled them under and they drowned. So, my parents adopted Chris and he lived with us, where I became Chris's older brother that he never had. He and I are closer than I could ever explain, but now... that bond is gone. He hardly looks at me now.

“Ted,” my mother says, her voice worried.

“Let him be for now,” Dad answers. “He needs some time to adjust to this. We all do.”

I know they're all in denial. Their son, their perfect son has finally had something catch up with him. Their son can't evade death. They know that. But they don't want to let me go. And I don't want to let them go, to tell the truth. I'm scared of what waits for me beyond the limits of humanity. Is there Heaven? Is there Hell? If there are such places, how will judgment fall upon me? Will I go to Heaven? Hell? Purgatory? Is there even a life that waits for me after death? I don't know. That's what terrifies me the most – the lack of knowledge.

“Mr. and Mrs. Thomas,” the doctor says, interrupting their consolations. “If I may...”

He interrupts them, and suddenly I'm thrown into sleep, dreams of the past years appearing before my eyes.



After my accomplishments and failures pass me by, I begin to dream of those more famous icons. I see Marilyn Monroe and the president of the United States. They're glowing, shining, and the light seems to place me in the shadows of my mind. Am I really this insignificant? They've gotten the glory. They've gotten the light. Yet, while I've spent my entire life working and helping others, I'm stuck in the darkness, never able to completely step into the light.

I see more people begin to appear. Gerard Way from My Chemical Romance, Brendon Urie from Panic! At the Disco, Ronnie Radke from Falling in Reverse, and many other people. They're all glowing. They're all in the light. Why can't I find my way into the light? Why am I stuck forever in this darkness? Why? I wonder this. I wonder why I can't be seen. I wonder why I'm stuck in their shadows and why I can't say what I want. I feel incomplete.

Yet, as I look at all these people and they eventually fade away into my subconscious, I see all the people I've saved. All the people I've helped in my lifetime. There's my first love, Alice, passing me by with a smile on her pale face. Though her beautiful brunette hair is gone from the effects of chemo treatments, she's still smiling at me. She's still beautiful as ever. Then, there's Christopher. He's not smiling, but I can see clear enough in his blue eyes that he loves me. That he's thankful for all that I've done for him. He loves me.

Other people appear. They eventually fade away. But I remember them. And it makes me think, I've gotten more of a chance than some people ever do in life. And those of us that get unhappy endings... well, someone needs to be unhappy. Life can't be rainbows and butterflies all the time. I feel as if this isn't fair. I feel cheated, as if the universe doesn't love me. But I know I've lived my life, even if it was short. Even if it wasn't to the fullest. I know I've lived.



In all my life, what have I done?

Sure, I've saved people. Sure, I've volunteered at charities. I've traveled the world. I've saved lives... That's the most important to me. Knowing I've saved the lives of other people. People could have died, yet I gave something of my life to keep them alive. Something of myself. Each person had a piece of me with them. But when have I ever taken anything?

Gifts never really held any interest for me, and most times I ended up giving them to children who really wanted them. I didn't play much – I always wanted to be reading on how I could help others. How I could give, not take. When was the last time I did something for myself? When I would visit Alice? Those stolen days by her bedside were probably my most selfish. Sure, I was sitting by her and being her friend, but I was mostly there because I wanted to be. If Alice had told me to go home, I would have stayed. Because I loved her.

Was this life of constant giving what brought me here? Had I not gone to all those sickly people and helped them, would I still be living? Probably. I probably wouldn't have gotten sick like this. I probably would have lived. But would that have been living?

In my mind, I thought about what life I would have lived without giving everything. I would have been a selfish prick, taking all I could have gotten. In an opposite life, I wouldn't have been me.