Theme: "Worst Nightmare"
Time limit: 7 minutes
Story: A twenty-one year old have to choose whether to unplug his nineteen year old sister's life support or not. It's not pretty, and contains quite some pressure from a third - insensitive - party.
Characters: Nathaniel Ivanov, mine / Alexandria Ivanov, Eviyanna's / "The other", an extra
TEXT UNDER *READ MORE*
Nathaniel had never really thought of it but now it was pending over his head. Much like a cloud that had never done anything but hang over people's head and grown masterful skills in that and that alone. It was a carpet of horrible disease, a thick cloud wrapping itself around him and choking him, constricting his breath and his heart beats and his thoughts. His mind fogged up, his heart raced, there were goose flesh all over his skin and his feet... well, he just wanted to up and run.
The other barely gave him a word of either acknowledgement or doubt, just raised an eyebrow and coughed into his fist.
”Having troubles, Mr. Ivanov?” he asked with a smug smirk in one corner of his mouth.
Nathaniel could only stare. His mind had blanked completely and there was nothing he could think of to cover it up or lie.
”You are making this too difficult for yourself, Mr. Ivanov, it's not actually that big of a decision. Either you pull the plug, or I do.”
But for Nathaniel it was not about who was supposed to pull the plug. It was about pulling the plug at all. Should he really do it? What if they could salvage it? What if there was a way to make this undone and just turn the clock back to what it had once been? Was it really that impossible?
He looked to the bed and the girl lying within it: wavy blonde tresses of hair framing her face on one side, and deep crimson ones on the other. Her eyes were closed, a tube disturbing the otherwise pale lips as it disappeared into her mouth. He knew they continued down her throat and into her lungs, breathing for her as she could no longer do it herself. He could almost see the inside of her body: shivering, unsteady and fighting. The blood in her veins, hot and rich but oh so weak, because of her heart. A frail bird in a world much too big for it.
And he had to choose whether to kill it completely or not. Choose what fate she would have to face. Certain death, or a complete comatose possibly for the rest of her life. A life that would be ending much too soon if he pulled the plug, but at the same time... Would this be a life? Was there really a chance for her to wake up and if it was, what kind of life would be greeting her? He could not say and he did not want to know.
Only he did. He wanted her to live. He wanted her to breathe and laugh and bubble over with energy and spirit as she always had, despite her disadvatanges. Despite everything that had worked against her her whole life she was so full of life and now he was about to take it from her.
One decision. It didn't even have to do with whether she would live or die. Only who would kill her.
His throat constricted and his hands shook. All of him trembled – all of him rejecting the idea completely. She couldn't die. He couldn't be the one to kill her. She was destined to live and breathe and do great things.
She couldn't die. She just couldn't. It was impossible.
