Disease Case

The cold, creeping pain began to slowly destroy her. The news hit her like an iceberg hitting a ship in the ocean. She had only a few days to live and there was no way to escape the disease this time. The news dawned upon her like a dreaded black curtain that closed every spec of light around her. Swirling road maps stream through her snow-white skin. Her face is like a leaf, dry and withered by the sun but wise, as she has seen many days of sadness, fear and fun. Her beauty was like a master-piece a painter has created, despite her ninety-three years and her leukemia case, her crystal blue eyes, like waterfalls falling through her pupils, will never grow fainter. She is like an open book, a play in three large parts, a child, adult and older aged woman, all of which have shaped her heart. Her crooked fingers are insulated by weathered skin that seemed so delicate. Her name was Rose, Rose Barewell. Indeed, she was as perfect as a rose, as sensitive, romantic and dangerous as one too. However, all roses wilt, and so did she.

On the seventeenth of October, the Welcare hospital bared Rose with the devastating news that she was going to die in a few days. It was almost like Rose was living in a daily nightmare, thinking of the day that the doctors will come up to her and tell her this overwhelming, unbearable news. Her husband, Thomas Barewell, sits next to Rose on her hospital bed, trying to hide the tormenting pain he feels for his dying wife. His face is like a history written on skin in many lines. He has seen it all, the good and bad, the old and sad. The wrinkles on his brow looked scrunched up and angered like a constant scowl plastered upon his face. Every gray hair he had was upright and pointed in all directions while his thick, bushy eyebrows seemed to cover more of his staggering, emerald, green eyes every day. His chapped, pale lips, stretched up in a beam of appreciation for every new day. However, on this particular day, that beam of appreciation faded away as he found out the news about his wife. They sit in silence for a few minutes not knowing how to start a conversation without it being awkward. Suddenly, without any warning, Rose gets up from the hospital bed and demands to leave the hospital. Thomas got up bewildered by this fanatical decision his wife is making and quickly gets up to find a nurse to calm her down. However, before he could leave the room, Rose weeps and pleads to him to let her leave and enjoy her last few days before it is too late. Feeling week by the sight of his weeping wife, he slowly turns back to her bed and helps her out, feeling a stab of shame every step towards the door.

She steps out of the big, ugly gray building that smells of sickness and feels the freedom of the air surrounding her. Oh what a feeling that was! In that instance, it felt almost like there was nothing wrong, like all her problems swished away with the wind that stroked her wrinkled body. The night sky was glowing with thousands of tiny fireballs illuminated in the sky. The moons' white light was staggering on top of them, acting like a lamplight in nature. Pure and innocent, silky and white, it smiles down on them with its glowing, creamy, bright color overseeing the dark night. There were curly wisps of clouds surrounding them like soft pillows in every corner. It was a still night, only the sound of the calming wind and the crackling leaves could be heard. They walk into Boston's city park and sit on one of the benches. The city usually smelt of oil, smoke and all the pollution that accumulates in streets. However, on that night, the city park smelt of earth and freshness that one would only normally find in the country side. The winds' slow movement felt like a mothers stroking hand on her sleeping child. Old trees cast a deep, dark shadow with their crooked arms stretched outwards as if yearning for the touch of a lost lover. The benches, though in the outdoors, seemed untouched by wind or light, as though they were locked in a cupboard for several years and finally been let out to breathe. The flowers were shimmering in the moonlight, as though they were pretty prom dresses with thousands of bright colors striking out from every sidewalk in the park. Thomas and Rose gaze at the beauty of the park and take a moment to absorb the lovely scenery around them.

"I remember meeting you here for the first time seventy-five years ago" Rose says, with a smile forming on her face. "oh I remember it like it was yesterday" she closes her eyes and recaptures the memory, so vividly in her mind.

"yes, what a day that was! I remember how you dropped all that makeup bag of yours when you first saw me!" Thomas chuckles as his mind rewinds back to the past.