The room was dimly lit, a slither of late evening light drawn in by the setting sun lit the far wall of the room in a vertical line on the wall, slowly but surely the line got shorter and shorter as the sun slowly lowered it's head, a distant hum from a mixture of voices and trolleys could be heard in the background, the clatter of old central heating pipes shuddering under their boiling hot load seemed almost calming. The room had a single bed in it, tucked up against the wall without the light, yet a warm glow came from the bed area as a small table top light gave of it's best. The bed was surrounded by wires, tubes, monitoring devices and all manner of paraphernalia congregated around the single person lay motionless under the bed clothes.
Andy lay still. He listened to the noises in the corridor, the central heating pipes,the creaking and groaning, he tried to make out some of the more muffled voices and what they were saying in the corridor, then he would drift off and forget where he was, but deep inside, a cry for help was continually going unanswered, the cries of the human spirit were being cut down like a Lioness strikes her prey to ensure her survival and that of her cubs, it ate at his very flesh and slowly day by day he was losing the warmth from within his bones to this ferocious unrelenting disease, it paid no heed to creed or colour, it simply moved onwards like an army the size of which we could never imagine, like that of a giant's foot that would quell those that dare disturb his vengeful path. Andy grew weak, his eyes reddened and his face a pale shadow of what was once the glow of youth and all it had to offer. The cancer within Andy was winning. The faceless beast that plays chemical warfare on our bodies had taken hold of Andy and was systematically shutting him down, like a favourite timepiece now forgotten that slows then eventually stops.
The tick tock of Andy's final hours had begun, he grew weaker and weaker from the drugs that had actually tried to save him, one last bitter irony of this uncaring dragon of a disease. The door to the room slowly clicked and opened, Andy moved just his eyes, he hadn't the energy to move his head . There in front of him stood his wife Sarah and as the door opened wider two little faces could just be made out peering around the corner of Sarah's dress, it was Andy's two daughters Jazzy and Mia, their bright wide eyed smiles in contrast to the pale slowly poisoned body that Andy inhabited, despite this a smile drew across Andy's face as the two little girls' ran towards him and as kid's always do jumped on the bed and kissed and hugged their Dad, Andy winced from the immediate pain he felt from their not so soft landing on his poor broken body, but he didn't let it show.
"Daddy!" came the shout from them both, they began to talk about what their day had entailed, about what Gran had bought them and how great their new Lego video game was.. but through all this Andy had noticed his beloved wife of 12 years Sarah talking to a Doctor to the one side of the room as the children continued their recital of the day's proceedings, the Doctor was slowly shaking his head and looking to his feet, Sarah's face was angst and a tear was methodically wiped from her eye out of the children's view with military precision, so as not to make them aware of their father's plight.
The conversation stopped and the Dr left the room, Andy was feeling very sleepy now, his two lovely youngsters were becoming a bit of a blur, Andy tried desperately to keep his focus on his beloved Sarah but the sheer hard work of keeping his eyes open was too much for him to overcome as desperate as he was to chat and listen to his two little girls he could keep his eyes open no longer.
At that point, though he didn't know it, Andy was gone.
That unforgiving disease that knows no earthly boundaries had used it's full arsenal of weapons on Andy and had taken yet another poor soul from this Earth, yet in such bitter twist of irony he had ensured it's own demise at the same time, as by dying Andy had at last won the battle, but lost the war.
The room fell silent, the two little girls slid off the bed as Mummy said "Daddy wanted to sleep now", another strategically hidden tear rolled down Mummy's face, this time it was much harder to get away with. They left the room and the door closed with a clunk.
On the far wall the long strip of light emulated the room's only occupant by slowly being engulfed by the darkness, much as Andy had been engulfed by that dreadful disease. Then, save for the odd footsteps outside and the sound of central heating pipes still carrying out their noisy task, the room fell silent.
