The Reaper Still Comes on 2021

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is a story that is dedicated to the front line workers.

It is the last night of 2020 and still the clock over the emergency room still ticks on. The body of human breaks down one minute at a time as everything decays. The doctor has grown tired of this sentient life that has grown insensitive for that we cannot comfort our friends, neighbors, and lovers by physical bounds. The doctors, nurses, and orderlies have worked sixty to eighty hours a week when the doctor is tired so tired that he is to the point of nearing towards dementia. The flowers in his kitchen have all died and the cat is being fed by a third party that sterilizes himself before he comes into his house every morning when the doctor hopes that he sterilizes himself before he comes into the cool silence of his house.

The doctor looks at the clock overhead of the emergency room when he knows that there are ghosts in the silence of the hospital that he cannot see, trapped in the figments of what happened to them when the doctor is so tired, so tired indeed that he does not feel the sour pain in his heart anymore.

When will people learn? The doctor exclaims in the tiredness in his mind. He does not want to look at the clock anymore when it three hours it will be the dawn of 2021 again. The virus will not stop, he knew that when he wondered if this year coming will be better or will be worse? He prayed to god every day to wake up in a dream when he wakes up and finds himself in a nightmare of confusion growing in his head.

What is this confusion as the world changes through the four seasons as the birds come and go, the heat comes and goes, the leaves grow, fall off the branches, and dies, and the sun is changed over into the whims of winter as the snow grows more heavy to the point that people are isolated in their little spots that they love or hate and they call home.

Isolation, the doctor laughs while he sits in the chair as the minutes tick by and more people die as the giggle started to form over into fits of laughter when he knew that he is towards the point of having another mental breakdown. He already had two when he went to the garage at home and thought about hanging himself with the questionable thought that it would be quicker than dying by the Coronavirus. It is the virus, the virus, the goddamn motherfucking virus that is making the ghosts walk around in hospitals that people dare not to enter now.

There is a sea of ghosts within the walls of white. The doctor knows that the numbers of contaminated cases and the numbers of death will not stop when we are on the year of 2021 when the doctor thought for a long time of how, when, and why? When will it stop, how it will stop, why is this happening? There are no answers but the universal inclination of just accepting it. That is all we do when the doctor still sits there, feeling the shakes within his muscles when he starts to rock in the chair, thinking, thinking, thinking, and thinking some more. The doctor still giggles again when he got up and started to pace around the doctor’s break area with two other doctors sleeping in the same room.

Time is all we have and time is the pretentious thought that is going to bury us when we are remembered by the ones that are left and forgotten in time that is formed back into nothing by the design of nature. That is the dire comedy of this whole year.

The doctor tried to stifle laughter in the back of his throat when he tried not to crack up. He saw his neighbor Donnie Gray die from COVID three days ago in the bed in exam room #27 when the doctor knew who this man is when they stuffed him in a cargo refrigerator that is behind the hospital that is out of sight and out of mind. Then came Holly Childen; his old fourth grade teacher that should have died of old age but died by a virus that keeps mutating, keeps, evolving, and keeps killing people that were around him and now they are ghosts in his head, ghosts of people that he can never talk to in this life when the ghosts are pleading for him to be released from this state. The doctor does not want to when he has a job to do here. He has a job to do here and here he will stay for a little longer when he thought of Tabitha Daniels, Terry Morgan, Frank Atkins, Troy Peters, Gary Contonerri, and Claire Vontell. My god; all of them are dead and still the doctor is here when the minute ticks down, one minute at a time when the doctors time is up.

He got up and walked through the doors of the emergency ward when he will witness the chaos unfold again.


Submitted: January 01, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Adam Steele. All rights reserved.

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