UNOFFICIALLY DEAD

It’s his birthday today, you know. We should be out there somewhere celebrating, but instead, I look down at his body and say, “Happy birthday Grandpa.” His eyes are cold and dark but I still see a flicker in them, his soul still dwells there. The wires protruding from his body under the pale light of the hospital room K21, a nightmarish vision. The relentless beep of the heart monitor makes me feel weak yet it is somehow comforting. I look at his pale, cold being and the sounds of the lively hospital begin to distort into a single monotonous ringing in my ear and my mind drifts to the thought: “Is this the end?”

“Jonathan?” I look to my left and see my mother, tears well up in her eyes, her voice is meek, that’s not who I know my mother to be, but I guess now is not the time to be strong.

“Mommy?” I say while still dazed.

“Talk to your Grandfather,” she says with tears now streaming down her cheeks.

“Talk to who? The body in front of me?” I abruptly stand up with my eyes still fastened on my mother’s as if expecting an answer.

My emotions begin to boil. I can’t be here right now. I can’t talk to him because if I do it’ll become real. The fact that I might never hear his voice or see his smile or hear his laugh ever again becomes real. Without saying anything further I walk out and start moving towards the bathroom.

I need to get out of here now, before the tears start, before anyone sees me. I burst through the bathroom doors. Breathless, I look at my reflection and I see him.

“Why are you doing this to me?!”

I look around, panicked, and my world becomes a blurry vision. I feel as though I befall a bystander to my own suffering, looking down upon the scene.

“Jonathan!”

I am brought back to reality by my sister's shrieking voice outside the door.

“Grandma wants to see you in the doctor’s office, come now.”

I know by ‘Grandma’ she means my grandmother, my father and my mother will be waiting for me.

I can barely acknowledge her, my words fall flat. I burst through the doors and walk past her and my brother, they’ve been crying. My walk turns to a slow-paced jog, I don’t want to see them like this.

I hurriedly step up to the door of the doctor’s consultation room. It’s closed. Despite knowing I won’t get an answer, I knock and shortly after barge in. I stand in the frame of the door Unaware of what to do further. I feel as though I have walked into a scene in a tragic drama, this can't be real. I stand dumbfounded as all the eyes in the room ogle me.

“He’s not gone yet is he?”

You insensitive bastard, Jonathan. Why would you say that?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…sorry”

“Please take a seat,” the doctor says.

I sit on the chair next to my mother.

“If we switch off the machines, will he be in any pain?” says my grandmother

“Have you decided to switch off the machines?!” I said bursting into tears, choking on the words coming out of my mouth.

“I’m sorry, Jonathan.”

“I…I…” I’m at a loss for words. So he is unofficially dead; still breathing, his heart still beating but nonetheless dead.

It was 13:53 when we decided on my grandfather’s godforsaken fate.

We move into his hospital room where the nurse stands ready like she knew what the ultimate verdict would be. We stand around his deathbed and watch as the nurse slowly and meticulously begins unplugging different machines, taunting us with her uninvited presence.

I watch as his breathing slows. I hear the heart monitor go flat. He takes his last breath.

I can feel his soul departing from his body and with its loss, my happiness.

16 minutes and 21 seconds later, At 14:09, he is officially dead. The world is already an unfamiliar place.