The True Enemy?

• Caleb Clark-browning, Grade 12, Bremer State High School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

I lurched forward, gasping for breath as my lungs adjusted to the vague flow of air, tears glided gently down my face, warm against my hollow cheeks. This wasn’t the first morning that I’d awoken to scowl upon the life thrusted upon me. Brushing away my tears before they clustered, I extended out my arms, reaching for the wheelchair permanently positioned by my side. My breathing hitched as I struck an object. Clasping onto it I squeezed with all my might, a futile attempt. A soothing voice calmed my nerves as an object I could only guess at patted my hand with great sympathy. Life continued to torture me into oblivion at every turn, knowing full well that I couldn’t fend for myself, condemning me to depend on others.
My dry throat gurgled as I attempted speech, old age claiming wholly my strength, sapping it with every passing day. I knew not even what I meant but the angel nurse seemed to understand, a trait gained through years of routine. Succumbing to old age has had its perks over the years, blankness consumed me, shrouding my vision with the veiled belief of eternal rest. It is when I sleep that true happiness finds its way into my heart once again, a ray of sunshine piercing my velvet curtains as I breathe in the fresh air of freedom. Alas I am confined to this hospital until my dying day, waiting for my inevitable end. I expect it to come soon, any day now in fact. I often spend my time wondering how my life could have been better, questioning my past choices is the only control I have left.
To court death is my final wish. Much of the talk on the ward is how everything ends. Most believe that their past deeds will shed a light on the path to the afterlife. They say there is either a man waiting with a beaming smile, an open heart and a personality that encompasses all or a devilish creature with wicked fangs, curled talons and a leathery hide. My personal belief is that everyone has lived a life of fallacy and false faith. No matter our origin or social status, we all meet the same gritty end; death. Even the stars that people wish upon at night, basking in their luminescence, are celestial creatures that have fallen to the almighty foe of time. Time is the true enemy to a civilization. Time is what meets us at the end of the road. Time is a gift; a curse.
Even in my blinded state I can still see the truth, a concept only believed pure imagination by many. We are all allotted a certain amount of time, some try to cheat and steal what they can but no matter their effort they will still meet their demise. I myself am ready to embrace my destiny and welcome death like an old timely friend. I am ready for my dreams to become a reality.