Summary ~ A summary would give it away, so I won’t.

Genre ~ Mark/Elizabeth

Disclaimer ~ Absolutely nothing is mine, at all.

Need to Know ~ You don’t really need to know anything, at all.

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I always hated the sound of a flatline. I hated hearing that high pitched sound that meant a life was over. I hated looking at their cold, dead bodies and knowing that a child would never again bounce on their knee and a kiss would never again be planted on their lips. In all my years of medicine I had never gotten use to calling a time of death. I hated the sound of a flatline.

But not hearing a flatline felt worse.

Instead I had to check his pulse, hear for breathing and feel for a heartbeat. Each time I checked there was nothing. Normally machines would have started to beep; a high pitched sound would have filled the air. Paddles would have been charged and CPR would have been administered. But there was none of that this time. No one made any effort; no one was even in the room but me.

I hated the sound of a flatline. I hated the sound of death.

I hated that this had to happen, especially when everything seemed to be going right. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. I was almost sure that when this moment came I would be inconsolable; that I would burst into tears and have to be comforted by my mother and father. I was sure that people would be so worried about my mental stability they would send me to a shrink right away and take my daughter away for a night.

But instead none of that happened. Instead no tears fell. I did nothing. I didn’t even move. I sat perfectly still, somewhat in a trance. As if I was dreaming and I was waiting to wake up. But alas, this was not a dream. This was a nightmare, and I would never wake up.

The evening came with a rush. I must have sat there for almost an hour before I realized what I needed to do. I stood up quickly, as if some greater power had commanded me to. I walked towards the door, but before I turned the knob I swung about to face him. He lay still, as if sleeping. He looked like he was dreaming. I wish that he was dreaming. The room was silent; no other sound was heard but the beating of my own heart. Not his heart, just my heart.

I hated the sound of death.

When I finally opened the door and stepped out of the room, I came face to face with the horrible reality that lay before me. My mother and father sat on the sofa, my daughter sitting on her grandmother’s knee. My poor daughter. She had already lost so much, and she didn’t even know it.

My heart ached when I looked at them. Not only my parents, but my friends as well. Carol sat with Doug by the kitchen table. We all knew Doug well. Doug knew my husband almost better then I knew him myself. Doug would be devastated. I knew that as soon as I told them that nothing would be the same ever again. I knew that once those two words left my lips everyone’s world would be altered.

I was dreading saying those words.

If I just don’t say them just yet maybe I can let their lives be normal for a little bit longer. If I just don’t tell them they will all be okay for just a few more minutes. I didn’t want to tell them. For I knew that when I told them, I was admitting it to myself. And I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I didn’t want to admit that my husband was dead. I didn’t want to admit that my world was shattered. And I didn’t want to shatter theirs.

Funny, you think I would be more prepared for this. I had basically known that this day was going to come for a few months now. You think this wouldn’t be so hard. But it was hard, harder then I ever thought it would be. All the training, practice, and preparation couldn’t have prepared me for what I was going to say.

Enough already! I needed to get this over with.

When I finally broke down and told them, the conversations stopped and the faces became solemn. They all looked like I probably did. Prepared, yet somewhat shocked. They knew it was coming. But yet they all looked as if this death was a surprise. That was a weird phenomenon.

The room was silent. Even my daughter didn’t make a noise (made no noise??). I hated the silence; I wanted someone to say something. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t find the words. I felt like I could hear everyone’s heart beating and everyone’s steady breathing. Everyone except for my husband.

I hated the sound of death.