The mind entrapt within
Hey all I did a heavy revision of one of the previose stories that I have posted here. It is a lot cleaner, and I feel overal better some aspects have been cleared up and others have been removed or made more dramtic. The story also gained about two pages from all the editions. Well I hope everyone who reads it will enjoy and be sure to leave a comment telling me what they think.
Part 1
Daniel yearned for the biting feel of the chilled autumn wind upon his cheeks as his wheel chair was being pushed from behind by his father. Such a simple and common feeling now seemed like a glorious luxury as he sat confided to a wheelchair his skin reduced to just holding his internal organs inside. Oh how Daniel yearned to feel the warmth of his father’s hand as it now rested upon his shoulder. But even with these longings for things he could no longer have, Daniel was finally taking joy in the world around him. His eyes were delighting in the mixture of the red and gold leaves as they hung from a branch. And though he could no longer hear the gentle chirping of the birds around him, he was still able to imagine how wonderful their joyous song was on this brisk November morning. “Finally,” Daniel spoke out loud to himself, and a frown crossed his face as he was still adjusting to not being able to hear the sound of his own voice.
His eyes roamed upwards to look into his father’s hazel eyes, just in time to witness the slight smile that Daniel’s words had brought to his face. And though Daniel had not learned to read lips in the three months since he had lost his hearing he could still make out his father’s mouth echoing his words, and this brought a smile of anticipation to Daniels face.
For this was a day of tempered celebration, as this was the eve of the day Daniel would finally be able to shake away from some of the horrible fate that had been bestowed upon him a year ago. That eerily similar day a year ago that Daniel had first been diagnosed with Tucker’s disease. And as the days had come and gone over this last year Daniel had fallen more and more into a depression which was now being alleviated with the anticipation of tomorrow’s surgery to implant the ANCD, the device that would finally allow him to communicate. As this was the first time since Daniel had lost his sense of touch, that the thoughts of suicide had finally left Daniel’s mind as his eyes took in the wonder of the small park around him.
When Daniel had been younger he had been asked was asked write a paper on the morality of Euthanasia, at the time he had seen it as a sign of personal weakness to resort to suicide. Just the thought of not fighting to the end had appalled him. He had been brought up reading the epic poems about warriors’ glorious final stands. So to him it had been sub-human to give up and not only accept but embrace death. He had been stout in his belief that he could withstand any illness or fate that he might have suffered during his life. But those had been the musings of Daniels life before he had been plunged into the hell that was tuckers disease.
Daniel vaguely remembered hearing about this new disease in some medical journal he had read while in college. Roughly Ten years ago from today a Tucker’s had first been diagnosed. Something about new water pollutants mutating one of the chromosomes which made Tucker’s a new genetic disease. Daniel had found out while making strained small talk with one of his doctors that the official scientific name was Sensual Dystrophy. But the disease had been named after the disease’s first victim of this nightmare.
The effects of Tucker’s disease actually had sounded more like a hypothetical proposed in one of Daniel’s college ethics classes. The disease slowly corrodes your nervous system destroying your brains ability to recognize the sensual information that is sent to it by, eliminating each sense, touch, hearing, sight, smell, and taste. Each fading away one at a time. But Daniel had found out all too soon that the true horror of SD is that your thinking, reasoning, intelligence and overall awareness are left completely intact.
When the doctors had first informed Daniel of all of this final part, when they had told him that the disease was not going to affect his mind at least biologically, Daniel had thought it a blessing. To him it had sounded like nature balancing itself, but by the time his hearing had vanished he had seen this so called blessing for what it really was, false hope.
Daniel watched as the birds flew in front of him, the clouds above seeming heavy as they draped the world in grey. His father had apparently decided it was time to head back to the confines of the hospital. Daniel gave thought to his family and how he was continuing to burden them, his very existence now a reminder that they had forever lost the happiness they had once shared together. SD normally took two years to completely eradicate all of its victim’s senses, and Daniel was already a year in his sight and hearing gone. And he knew that if it hadn’t been for tomorrow’s surgery that things would have gotten worse.
Tucker’s disease wasn’t really fatal, or at least not as fatal as other terminal diseases. The first man to have suffered from the disease is actually still alive after ten years of affliction. He “lives” in Kentucky, his wife and children in charge of the soul sucking task of watching the respirators pump endlessly. The only conformation that the man they loved is still in his body is the occasional brain wave scan to make sure he is not comatose or dead. It is almost comical that the disease is described as painless. And that could be perceived as a fair enough description, as the whole process is physically painless, minus some minor phantom feeling. You see the first sens to go was always that of touch.
Part 1
Daniel yearned for the biting feel of the chilled autumn wind upon his cheeks as his wheel chair was being pushed from behind by his father. Such a simple and common feeling now seemed like a glorious luxury as he sat confided to a wheelchair his skin reduced to just holding his internal organs inside. Oh how Daniel yearned to feel the warmth of his father’s hand as it now rested upon his shoulder. But even with these longings for things he could no longer have, Daniel was finally taking joy in the world around him. His eyes were delighting in the mixture of the red and gold leaves as they hung from a branch. And though he could no longer hear the gentle chirping of the birds around him, he was still able to imagine how wonderful their joyous song was on this brisk November morning. “Finally,” Daniel spoke out loud to himself, and a frown crossed his face as he was still adjusting to not being able to hear the sound of his own voice.
His eyes roamed upwards to look into his father’s hazel eyes, just in time to witness the slight smile that Daniel’s words had brought to his face. And though Daniel had not learned to read lips in the three months since he had lost his hearing he could still make out his father’s mouth echoing his words, and this brought a smile of anticipation to Daniels face.
For this was a day of tempered celebration, as this was the eve of the day Daniel would finally be able to shake away from some of the horrible fate that had been bestowed upon him a year ago. That eerily similar day a year ago that Daniel had first been diagnosed with Tucker’s disease. And as the days had come and gone over this last year Daniel had fallen more and more into a depression which was now being alleviated with the anticipation of tomorrow’s surgery to implant the ANCD, the device that would finally allow him to communicate. As this was the first time since Daniel had lost his sense of touch, that the thoughts of suicide had finally left Daniel’s mind as his eyes took in the wonder of the small park around him.
When Daniel had been younger he had been asked was asked write a paper on the morality of Euthanasia, at the time he had seen it as a sign of personal weakness to resort to suicide. Just the thought of not fighting to the end had appalled him. He had been brought up reading the epic poems about warriors’ glorious final stands. So to him it had been sub-human to give up and not only accept but embrace death. He had been stout in his belief that he could withstand any illness or fate that he might have suffered during his life. But those had been the musings of Daniels life before he had been plunged into the hell that was tuckers disease.
Daniel vaguely remembered hearing about this new disease in some medical journal he had read while in college. Roughly Ten years ago from today a Tucker’s had first been diagnosed. Something about new water pollutants mutating one of the chromosomes which made Tucker’s a new genetic disease. Daniel had found out while making strained small talk with one of his doctors that the official scientific name was Sensual Dystrophy. But the disease had been named after the disease’s first victim of this nightmare.
The effects of Tucker’s disease actually had sounded more like a hypothetical proposed in one of Daniel’s college ethics classes. The disease slowly corrodes your nervous system destroying your brains ability to recognize the sensual information that is sent to it by, eliminating each sense, touch, hearing, sight, smell, and taste. Each fading away one at a time. But Daniel had found out all too soon that the true horror of SD is that your thinking, reasoning, intelligence and overall awareness are left completely intact.
When the doctors had first informed Daniel of all of this final part, when they had told him that the disease was not going to affect his mind at least biologically, Daniel had thought it a blessing. To him it had sounded like nature balancing itself, but by the time his hearing had vanished he had seen this so called blessing for what it really was, false hope.
Daniel watched as the birds flew in front of him, the clouds above seeming heavy as they draped the world in grey. His father had apparently decided it was time to head back to the confines of the hospital. Daniel gave thought to his family and how he was continuing to burden them, his very existence now a reminder that they had forever lost the happiness they had once shared together. SD normally took two years to completely eradicate all of its victim’s senses, and Daniel was already a year in his sight and hearing gone. And he knew that if it hadn’t been for tomorrow’s surgery that things would have gotten worse.
Tucker’s disease wasn’t really fatal, or at least not as fatal as other terminal diseases. The first man to have suffered from the disease is actually still alive after ten years of affliction. He “lives” in Kentucky, his wife and children in charge of the soul sucking task of watching the respirators pump endlessly. The only conformation that the man they loved is still in his body is the occasional brain wave scan to make sure he is not comatose or dead. It is almost comical that the disease is described as painless. And that could be perceived as a fair enough description, as the whole process is physically painless, minus some minor phantom feeling. You see the first sens to go was always that of touch.
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PART 2
Daniel was wheeled up to his room, his father and a nurse charged with the now routine task of lifting him from the wheelchair and placing him into his bed. His father sat down in the chair next to Daniel’s bed and lifted up the whiteboard and dry erase marker that had been placed on the bed stand. This had become the easiest way of communicating now. IF someone wanted to talk to Daniel they would write something down on the whiteboard and hold it aloft in front of him, to which Daniel would nod or shake his head. It wasn’t a permanent solution as eventual Daniel would be both fully paralyzed and blind but for now it was the best they had.
ARE YOU ALRIGHT, DO YOU NEED ANYTHING, was scrawled in red marker across the whiteboard, Daniel shook his head for no. Daniel’s father erased the message and began to write something else. WILL YOU BE ALRIGHT ON YOUR OWN FOR A BIT? Daniel would have sighed if it hadn’t been his father asking, but just gave a quick nod for yes. Daniel’s father wrote down his last message, I WILL BE BACK BEFORE THE SURGERY TOMORROW I PROMISE. Daniel gave a final quick nod to show he understood, and watched as his father walked off. Most likely going home to check on Daniels mother.
Daniel finally let out a sigh as he scanned his eyes over the familiar hospital bed. He had hated these beds ever since his diagnosis. It had been a little over a year ago now.
It has been a little over a year ago now since he was diagnosed with S. Daniel had gone for a checkup with his surgeon, having accidentally cut open my wrist while gardening Daniel was required to go in for checkups every few months to see how the nerves were healing. Daniel having severed both the median and ulnar nerve int eh accident. The feeling had been strange, otherworldly even. I could see my hand touch it, but couldn’t feel a thing, except for an occasional phantom pain. Little did he know this was the eventual fate for his entire body.
It is pure poetic irony that the diagnosis of what would eventually become complete paralysis, was first diagnosed while checking to see how the nerve in my hand was proceeding.
Daniel lay looking out the window, remember the surgeons pokes and prods, testing for something called two point feeling. And then those haunting words were muttered. Those words which still made Daniels skin crawl “Your hand has not progressed as quickly as we would have hoped; I would like to hold you overnight for more tests.” Daniel remembers the false reassurance that those words had held. He remembered how at the time his mind had put forth all types of scenarios to justify these foreboding words. Maybe my nerve had run into scare tissue, or perhaps he had some rare benign infection that caused my nerves to re-grow at a slower pace and would eventually land him in a medical journal.
But during that one lonely night darker thoughts began to creep in. It had been something about how the doctors and nurses looked at him, a slight strain in their upper lip when they smiled, how their eyes occasionally darted around instead of making eye contact, as if the solutions were hidden beneath the bed. And while Daniel had been mostly sure that he would be fine, the seeds of doubt had been planted.
That one night had turned into a week as the doctors had pondered what was wrong. And the seeds of doubt bloomed into full fledged terror as Daniel desperately searched for answers. As apparently Tucker’s disease is not even remotely close to common; only about one in every ten million people actually suffer from it.
But these thoughts were forced to the back of his mid as Daniel forced himself o think about tomorrow’s surgery to have the ANCD implanted. It had been two weeks ago that Daniel had been informed of this marvelous little device. The doctors saying he would be perfect for the experimental trial. The devices having been invented to hopefully one day assist those who were both blind and death, and possibly even coma patients or sufferers from other diseases. It worked via a hook-up directly to the brain which was then connected to a keyboard. People wishing to communicate with Daniel would type what they wanted to say and the words would appear in his thoughts. And to answer them back all Daniel had to do was clearly think out his response as words and they would appear upon an LCD screen above the keyboard, and to make things easier the words Daniel thoughts would be spoken out of a small black speaker.
It was all very confusing to him; after all he was neither a doctor or a scientist. ANCD stood for Audio Neural Communication Device or ANCD for short. Daniel however had named it the Helen Keller machine, after all when he was confined to a bed, his senses of touch and sound gone, and with sight soon to follow. Political correctness no longer seemed like a priority. And with these comforting thoughts Daniel was finally able to fall asleep.
Daniel awoke the day of the surgery energized and excited for the first time in a year. His father standing by him holding his hand for mutual support, he being more nervous than Daniel actually was. Having been prepped for surgery the day before, his long dark hair shaved off, and not having eaten anything for over a day Daniel was immediately ready to go. He would have been bouncing if his legs or arms still worked.
Daniel was wheeled along the whitewashed corridors, but something from the outside managed to grab his attention away from the excitement he felt. It was the rain, so similar to the day a year ago. Large droplets splashing against the windows as the florescent light shimmered against the glass, causing the rain to alight like sparkling crystal.Posted 12-06-2008 at 07:24 AM by Leiv
Updated 12-06-2008 at 07:28 AM by Leiv -
PART 3
The first sense to disappear was the majority of Daniel’s feeling. It had taken just a few short months for it to practically vanish. Ever so gradually, and yet rapidly, it slipped from his body like water through a clenched fist. Every day he would wake up to a world more numb than he had left it the night before, the sensation in his body a little more dampened. But he refused to acknowledge the loss of feeling, it was like when his hair grew, it grew, he knew it did but you didn’t realize it until that one day while looking in the mirror. Daniel’s mirror was a fall storm. He could distinctly recall that he had been walking down the driveway to go fetch the mail, and as he briskly walked down the driveway he stopped walking and looked up. It was raining. He knew it had been raining, he had seen the tiny droplets collide with his the cream of his skin; he could hear the rain all around him, the constant splatter against the cement. But he couldn’t feel his clothes sticking to his skin or the tiny cold pinpricks as the rain collided with the warmth of his arms. It had taken seven steps for him to realize that there was something wrong, seven steps of blissful ignorance, shattered by harsh reality. Daniel had fallen to his knees quivering, and though he couldn’t feel the heat of his tears nor feel the heat upon his cheeks, but he knew he cried, he was certain of it.
He never thought he would miss anything so much as the rain on that day. It’s funny how it is those little things that are the ones we miss most of all when they’re gone Daniel mused to himself as he watched the rain splatter against the hospital windows. When he could still could hear and stand he would stand out in the rain wishing ever so desperately that just one cold splash would get through his fleshy armor.
The loss of feeling progressed even farther, until finally the nerves decay from his neck down started to leave Daniel paralyzed. And two months after the haunting revelation within the rain, he had become paralyzed from the neck down. Soon after his paralysis his family hired a nurse for him, the young lady was kind and non-judgmental but she would become a symbol of his newfound indignity and helplessness. Every time he glanced at her, the shoulder length black hair, the white uniform, all he could think about was the depths he had been plunged to. The only reconciliation that it seemed god had decreed he would have, was the fact that from the neck up, he was still fine as the last vestiges of feeling were snuffed from my body. He had become a soul trapped within a body with only one window, which was doomed to close.
Daniel felt his anxiety grow as his wheelchair was pushed from behind by a male orderly; with every second he came closer to his future with the Helen Keller machine. And he mused to himself about how this was the last day he would be out of his bed as the machine was too large to allow him to leave his bed again once it was installed. But even with that in mind Daniel still felt the excitement of a new future before him.
The double doors parted as Daniel was finally pushed into the surgery room. A large table, draped in medically green cloth, was stationed at the center of the operating room, with great domed light hanging above the bed casting their shadows to the floor. Next to the bed lay a display of uninviting instruments upon a small metallic stand, while what he assumed to be the ANCD was on a larger metal stand against the opposite side of the medical table. He was hoisted onto the table by a pair of doctors, and then a small sign was held in front of me so he could read it. “Start counting backwards from one-hundred please.” As they placed the mask upon his face so he could breathe n the anesthetic Daniel instead begun to think about how nice it would have been to hear the doctors voice or even to make any form of small talk with them as they finished the preparations.
Daniel woke up lost; the last thing he remembered was his thoughts about small talk. A long black cord appeared in my vision, which my eyes followed to a matching black box that sat to my side. With that, it all came rushing back to him; it was as if his thoughts had been hiding behind a veil of grogginess only to be sucked in by that moment of revelation. Similar to the day he had lost his hearing for the first time.
Where his loss of feeling had been gradual if somewhat quick, the loss of hearing was almost instantaneous; it was like his eardrums had been shredded by some monstrous explosion. Daniel had drifted off to sleep listening to the gentle musings of Beehtovan’s Moonlight Sonata, his nurse helping him go through the rituals that we impose upon our selves before we embrace slumber. He remembered the last thing he heard was the soft flutter of a moth’s wings.
He had never felt the same level of panic as what he experienced that next day. He woke up and at first nothing seemed wrong. Then he didn’t hear the birds, they had become something that he had become accustomed to watching and listening to in the mornings, it was one of the few luxuries he had left in life. The chirps and craws would blend together to form a symphonic natural song that resonated in his ears. But now they were gone, banished from the sensual realm by an unwelcome master. Daniel thought to himself that his eyes must have looked like that of a wild beast, darting frantically in their socket as if by straining his eyes he could see the sounds he had lost, his eyes silently screaming for his hearing’s return. The nurse noticed that something was wrong and came over to see if everything was alright, he saw her lips move the concerned expression on her face, and smelt the slight fragrance of her rose perfume. He didn’t remember screaming but was later told that as soon as he saw the nurses face he didn’t stop until she was forced to inject him with a tranquilizer that forced him back into the horror land that sleep had become.
He woke to a mind that had been cowed. The loss of hearing was horrible, but paled in comparison to the sense that his bod… no that he was disappearing. He held no grudge to the nurse but she became the symbol of his indignity. It seemed unethical for her to just drug him in order to calm him down. But in the brave new world of easily accessible medicine, the drugs were your friends. She probably looked at the monitors and saw that his heart rate had suddenly spiked, and all he did was yell, she of course would have had no idea of what was going on.Posted 12-06-2008 at 07:26 AM by Leiv
Updated 12-06-2008 at 07:29 AM by Leiv -
Part 4
His hearing came back later that day, and would continue to come and go as the days passed. But every time that his hearing vanished and returned, it returned fainter and less defined than it had been before. It was a slow torture; never knowing when his ears would finally fail for the last time, and every time they did, the fear that he had heard his last sound was a chilling reminder of his fragility.
Daniel’s hearing finally left in a non dramatic fashion, over the weeks the spots of time in which he could hear became short and far between until finally it just left permanently. Daniel didn’t remember the last sound he had heard. For the first few weeks he had tried to remember every sound that was around at every moment, so that when his hearing did finally fail he would at least hopefully remember a sweet melody or his mother’s voice when he was trapped in silence. But his vigilance faded and by the time his hearing finally quite his attempts to notice sounds around him had become token at best. And so he missed out on the last thing he ever heard.
Daniels eyes went wide at the realization of what was now written in front of him. “WE ARE GOING TO TURN ON THE ANCD TOMORROW” was written in large blue capital letters. He noticed one of the doctors lean over and begin to erase the message, and then he began to scribble down another. The excitement that had been building for the last couple of days had no vessel for its escape. He could not jump, clamp or even pump his fist in triumph. WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE YOUR FAMILY NOW? Those words provided the conduit for all his excitement which released itself as two of the most pronounced nods of his life. The nodding so overdone that it would have made the overacting of the 1920 black and white films proud.
After his family came and gave their comforting words of encouragement, which during the year of slowly becoming a bane upon them, had become rather predictable. The excitement left as the energy and strength drained from his body, the surgery and events of the day taking their toll as Daniel finally fell asleep.
The day was finally here, Daniel gazed at the faces of his parents and doctors. His mothers face was almost giddy with excitement while his father wore a smile of concern upon his wrinkled face. The began to speak to his parents as he customarily scribbled his message upon the whiteboard. WE ARE GOING TO TURN IT ON NOW. The doctor seemed to be reassuring his parents that Daniel’s head wouldn’t suddenly explode or catch fire when the switch was flipped. And with the final nod of approval from Daniel’s father the small red switch on the side of the device was flipped to on.
The sensation was like nothing Daniel had ever experienced before. A sort of buzzing was whirling through his head, just behind his eyes. It wasn’t so much of a sound but rather a sensation that emerged from nothingness, and hovered in the doorway of between reality and imaginary. It was like an electrical jolt right to the brain; actually it was an electrical jolt right to the brain. But it wasn’t painful but rather energizing. The most similar feeling Daniel could think of would be the jolt you get when you bite into a lemon. While he was lost in wonder over this new…something, he noticed words and thoughts popping into my head. “How are you?” At first he couldn’t tell where the thought was coming from, but then Daniel realized he had closed his eyes while his mind tried to comprehend what had happened. He slowly opened his eyes to find the doctor sitting with the keyboard on his lap; a small smile of satisfaction and relief creasing the side of his.
“Just think out your words,” the words flashed across his thoughts, as Daniel had thought them. Daniel thought the word fine with as much concentration as he could muster. The doctor’s smile widened as he read Daniels thought on the LCD screen and then began to type something on the keyboard. “Very good, both ways of speech are working fine I will be back later to see how you are doing.” Daniel had to concentrate to make sure that the new thoughts and words that had appeared in his head wasn’t his own, but for the first time since the time in the rain, he felt like he could manage. His father and mother sat down at the keyboard and began to type words of encouragement and excitement. Daniel was barely managing to keep up and wasn’t entirely sure which of his thoughts were appearing upon the screen before his parents and which stayed in his head. But none the less he was finally feeling a least a little contentment.
Daniel soon found out it was a good thing that he had the ANCD implanted so soon as his sight was already fading. His vision began to blur objects becoming more and more obscure, colors blending into one another as the week began to progress. Daniel frantically began to read everything he could get his hands on, reading had always been an escape for Daniel. But this was a fate that no amount of reading could escape. And after Daniel finished reading his favorite collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories he decided it was time to enjoy the last few things he would see in this world.
On one of his parents daily trips to see him, Daniel was determined that their loving faces would be the last thing he would see. Daniel realized he wasn’t able to choose what the last thing he felt was and he hadn’t been able to choose what the last thing he heard was. But the one thing he still had control over was the last thing he would ever see. And Daniel was going to make sure that this last image would be of the people who loved him most.
His parents were happily plugging away at the keyboard, talking about how nice the weather was, and how I was in everyone’s prayers. Daniel silently wondered how often could everyone actually pray for him didn’t they have their own lives? After the idle chat Daniel thought his request out concentrating to make sure he was clear. His parents leaned in close so that Deacon could take in every minuet detail of their face. Each wrinkle of his mother’s crow feet, the growing amount of white hair along his father’s sideburns and strained warmth of their smiles were all captured in Daniel’s memory like a photograph. And with that Daniel shut his eyes, refusing to open them again. This was the only small victory he had managed to win in the loosing war with SD. And he was determined that he would lose his sense upon his own terms, comforted with the image of his loving parents.
With this his sight had vanished, Daniel being unsure of when exactly his sight had officially disappeared. But to him it was immediately after that image of his parents loving smiles.
Once his sight was gone the ANCD became even more confusing. It might have already been the slight touch of insanity and depression that came from his three primary senses disappearing in just over a year, but Daniel began to lose his grip on which were his thoughts, and which was that of the people on the other end of the ANCD. He just could no longer keep track. It felt like now after all of his physical ability had been taken away from him; his mental stability was likewise being gradually striped by Tucker’s disease. With his sanity slowly seeping away those thoughts of suicide returned. Daniel couldn’t cope with both his body and mind being ravaged and shattered by this disease. The ANCD which had been thought a blessing was in actuality a curse; it was as if Lucifer himself had been the final cog in the machines creation.Posted 12-06-2008 at 07:27 AM by Leiv
Updated 12-06-2008 at 07:29 AM by Leiv -
PART 5
Daniel was at the brink, and it was that desperation that pushed him to one day inquire to his doctor about the possibility of euthanasia; the doctors only reply was that it wasn’t a practice of this hospital, well that is what Daniel thought he said, these days it was becoming increasingly difficult to tell whose thoughts were whose. And with laws how they are, Daniel couldn’t blame him, much. If the doctor was caught he was looking at first degree murder charges after some of the more recent euthanasia laws. The government had fully sided against euthanasia; thanks mostly do to the medical advances since the turn of the millennium. The main argument for euthanasia had gone out the window. With new pain medication and laser technology, cancer rates dropped dramatically, and the pain was able to be reduced to a level of almost non existence. Alzheimer’s was really the only well known terminal disease anymore which caused serious problems, but the government had still ruled completely against the idea of medically assisted suicide.
Over the next year Daniel fought against the insanity that was creeping into his brain, during that time his final two senses disappeared without him really even being able to notice. All the while Daniel increasingly sought ways for him to finally end his life without his parents finding out it had been suicide. Outward emotion had been lost to him as his thoughts mechanically echoed my through a tiny black box and resonated on a shimmering screen. And while the ANCD vocabulary recognition had been upgraded several times it still paled in comparison to the expansive list Daniel had once possessed. Words had been his sanctuary, now they were a fleeting fancy a luxury that some higher power had deemed unworthy for him to retain. He was his mind and now it had become a breeding ground for insanity and a dwelling for the darkness of his new thoughts. Mind over matter could not exsist, when the mind was being systematically destroyed and there was no matter to overcome. He could no longer bear not knowing if thoughts where his or someone else’s being forcefully pushed into his consciousness. Daniel could never know if what he was thinking was being brokenly broadcast to whoever was around him by a soulless machine. Paranoia seeped into the folds of his brain, was his mind now an open book? Were people idly typing these thoughts of death and insanity into his brain to try and clear up an extra hospital bed? Or were they breaking him down for the sole purpose to see how much agony he could take? Daniel could no longer even tell if he was asleep or awake. Was he in fact dreaming all this nonsense about insanity? Were his thoughts actually thoughts, or dreams? What was the difference, he didn’t know, he couldn’t know, but yet his life depended upon knowing.
After a year of this most cruel and unusual of tortures Daniel could no longer live in this indignity, a bane upon those around him. He had snapped, been broken, the disease had finally won. A once bright and happy mind reduced to darkness and depravity. Daniel was forced to confront what he had done to the people who cared for him. And he only hoped they forgave him for what he was going to have to do next.
Two weeks ago Daniel had specifically asked for his father to visit him alone. It took every ounce of concentration he had left to suppress everything else, and empty his mind of everything except for the request so the rest of his plan would not be exposed.
His father had arrived on sometime in November, by now Daniel had stopped counting days as he was just barely able to keep up with the passing of months. It had been almost two years since the day of diagnosis.
“Daniel?” he felt the thoughts burst in his head. He struggled against the insanity and paranoia straining against them, Daniel thought hard on several question to make sure it was his father, but still the doubt lingered that anyone was there and that he was indeed talking to himself. But Daniel forced certainty upon himself; all the while Daniel’s father was unable to witness the internal struggle which tore through his son.
Daniel mustered his courage and steadied his thoughts as much as he could. “Dad I can’t take this anymore,” his thoughts played across the screen as black words. He couldn’t see the tears begin to glisten on his father’s eyes, nor could he see the weariness and haggard look that had draped across his father’s once strong features.
Daniel’s father begin to type back his response, his fingers quivering with every pound of the key “just a little longer Daniel, just give the doctors a little more time, they will find something.” It felt to Daniel’s father as if he was trying to communicate to his son through a wall of darkness. He imagined what it would be like as he often did. He imagined himself at the center of a realm of total black nothing, voices echoing around him, his father trying to gain understanding of the horror that his son lived though every day.
“Dad I can’t do it anymore, I have to get out, it’s just too much.” As Daniel’s father read the words upon the screen the tears that had caused his eyes to glisten began to stream down the side of his cheeks. He couldn’t accept what his son was telling him.
“What do mean Daniel” The thoughts cut into Daniel’s mind. He was sure that these were the words of this father, his mind adding the sorrow and denial that were meant to accompany his father’s message. Daniel could envision the loving face of his father, the tears streaming down his cheeks. And the image broke Daniel just that much more.
Daniel’s father watched as the corners of his son’s eyes began to glisten, his father heartbreakingly wondering if his son knew that his body was crying. Daniel’s father stared at the screen as another sentence appeared on its surface, “I need you to pull the plug on whatever is keeping me alive.” All of Daniel’s father’s fears at that moment became true. He was now physically attempting to choke back the sobs that welled in his throat.
“Daniel…I…can’t, no please no.” Daniel saw the words emerge from the darkness, his mind imagining them as white words upon a black canvas. And at least in his mind he began to cry, he was unaware of the heat of the tears upon his own cheeks. And though he new he was destroying his father with his words he had to persevere, he had to escape, this wasn’t life anymore, he just wanted to escape, escape it all finally.
“Please Dad, just pull the plug, for me I need you to. I’m lost, I’m scared, and I am loosing myself. Please Dad while I am still in here.” As Daniel’s father read the words upon the screen he finally broke down. The two years of watching his pride and joy be ravaged by this infernal disease, the two years of despair and wanton hope. The two years of him not being able to help his son and watching as Daniel’s world decayed around him all came flooding back upon his son’s pleads. He could no longer choke back the sobs anymore. He laid his head upon his son’s chest as is entire body shaked as he cried out loud for the first time in years. He saw the plug to the respirator and made up his mind. He leaned over and yanked the cords from the wall.
The eyes of Daniel’s father were pulled wide from the shock of what he had just done. He had just triggered what would soon be his son’s death. He quickly returned to the keyboard and hurriedly typed his last message.
“I…I did it. I Love you Daniel, I have always loved you, I’m so sorry for everything. I love you.” Daniel’s father was now barely able to see through his tears, and he was barely able to see his son’s last message. The last words he would leave upon this world.
“Thank you Dad. And sorry for all the pain I have caused both of you. Tell Mom I love her. I Love you.” And so Daniel sat in the darkness waiting, wondering if it would hurt, or if he would even realize when he died. Would anything change. He also thought of his parents and how much he loved them. He thought back to them watching him from the stands at his basketball games. Their laughter as they opened Christmas presents. And the “I love yous” they said to each other every night before bed. And as Daniel pondered all of this in his last moments, he was unaware of his Father’s arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. His father’s chest buried in his chest crying madly, whispering I love you over and over again as tears began to soak the hospital gown.
And Daniel’s last thoughts were of the wish he could once again hug his father and mother, and tell them he loved them.Posted 12-06-2008 at 07:27 AM by Leiv
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(y)
/clap
Great work, hadnt the time to read all, just the first post. But it looks very promising ^^Posted 12-22-2008 at 12:57 AM by TheBw
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T_T...
leiv...u made me cry
wow! i LOVE it!! its just... so overwhelming! and as for u ! to be able to imagine what Daniel would be feeling is just AMAZING! and... i felt myself in daniel's head... wow ! seriously a good story
keep it up!Posted 07-21-2009 at 12:26 AM by tazii
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