My father is dying, but what’s worse is that he doesn’t like taking his medicine. He’ll often hide it under his tongue or in-between his gums and his dentures. Today we really got into it. The day started off normal, I’d give him an alkaline-seltzer, he’d drink it, I’d feed him pudding, he’d eat it, but when I reached into the medicine bag, he asked me why I wasn’t married. Except he said something along the lines of, “you’re gonna end up like me but without the dead spouse if you don’t get outside every once in a while.” I felt the prediction sink down my spine, acted like I didn’t hear it, and continued to look for the medicine. I took out the prescription and shake three yellow pills into my hand. I pinched one and carried it towards my fathers mouth. Surprisingly he slapped it out of my hand.
“Not today” he told me, “Now leave me be.”
I titled my head, eyed him down, and proceeded with another pill. Slapped again. With the last pill I persisted, he started to struggle, so I grabbed his hand and held it down against the bed. He moaned in pain aa I pushed the pill in his mouth and held it closed until he finally popped it. I felt him start to go under and my hand jolted back to my stomach. I couldn’t believe what I had done. He looked and me with this scarred look as I continued to pant in anger. I began to feel the presence of his oncoming death. The black hole inside him sucking up life and spewing out pain. I felt my future. After we both calmed all the way down my face went blank. My legs then began to carry me towards the door, until I stopped at the mirror. I stood there staring into my pupils, while my peripherals continued to fight the dark energy that resided within my father. It was time for me to go.
