The Aftermath by Gail Schimmel (books to read in a lifetime txt) 📗

Mike about everything else. I still know that somewhere deep inside, he’s awake, living his own personal hell. When I realised how bad it must be for him – trapped in his body with an active mind – it was too late for me to help him. I had already got him into care. There was nothing I could do because I couldn’t risk getting caught. My only remaining duty was to be Julia’s mother, and I had to do that to the best of my ability. And that included not murdering her father – no matter how much I knew he needed me to.

When I had my epiphany about a year later – my realisation that I could kill myself if I just fulfilled my duty to Julia first, I realised that this freed me to kill Mike too, when the time came. I didn’t even need to be subtle. I could kill Mike and free him from the prison of his body, and then kill myself and free myself from the prison of my pain. If the religious people are right, then it will be even better because we’ll be together. But even if they’re not, even if it’s just nothing after this, anything would be better than this. It is true that Julia will experience huge loss, but she’ll either have a reliable partner or her own child to see her through. The focus of her life won’t be on being my child; it will be on being a wife and mother. That’s why it is okay for me to do it then. I will have handed on the baton of Julia’s happiness.

I told Mike about this as soon as I realised. I went to visit him and drew up my chair right close to his ear, and explained that as soon as Julia had a good partner or a baby of her own, I would free us. I said it clearly so I knew he would hear, and I repeated it a few times.

‘Don’t worry, my love,’ I said to him. ‘We just have to be patient, but I will make this hell end. I promise you. I will free you from this prison.’

The doctors and nurses at Mike’s facility tell me he has no affective response – that he feels nothing and has no significant intellectual activity except that his body keeps itself breathing and moderately functioning. They tell me that nothing I say can upset him but also, nothing can please him. In the beginning they were quite gentle with their explanations, but over the years they’ve gotten more blunt. The doctor in charge of Mike’s case at the moment seems to feel personally responsible for me, and about annually he sits me down and explains again that Mike is still non-responsive and that I should move on with my life. Well, firstly, they didn’t see Mike cry. Nobody believes that happened, but I know what I saw. And, secondly, there might be people who move on, but I’m not one of them. I understand that for other people there are second chances at love but that’s not how it is for me. I’m not judging those people – and maybe if The Accident had been different, I would be one of them. But for me, there is only Mike. I don’t need to move on.

In the early years I thought I’d meet other people like me. Sometimes I would think I had – people who drifted around in the corridors of the facility like I did. But I would watch them slowly heal, and visit their person less, and move on. I would say things like ‘I’m so happy for you,’ and ‘You deserve to be happy,’ but I knew it wasn’t like that for me, and eventually I stopped even acknowledging these passers-through.

I can’t wait to tell Mike our time is coming. I can’t wait to tell him we are nearly free to die.

Julia

I love visiting my dad. It is my absolute most favourite thing in the world. I know the doctors say he’s brain dead, that he knows nothing and if he hears us, he doesn’t understand us, but that’s just not true. Even my mother feels better after she’s spoken to him. He’s like a wise recluse who lives on a hill, hearing our problems and bringing peace to our lives without saying a thing. I don’t need to talk to him to know that he’s conscious and at peace with where he finds himself.

My mother doesn’t realise how much I visit and how much I talk to him. I’ve told him about Daniel. I spoke to him when it all started and I was feeling confused and guilty and unsure. When I hold his hand and close my eyes, it can feel like he’s talking back to me, and I can almost hear his voice telling me not to worry, that everything will work out and I’m his little princess (although I don’t actually know if he ever said that).

I know it’s not fair – my mother has been the parent who cared for me and worked really hard to provide for us and give me as normal a childhood as she was capable of. But it’s my dad who roots me to my life.

It’s my dad that I can’t live without.

I’ve thought about taking Daniel to meet him before, but it seemed wrong somehow. I mean, it’s not like Dad could tell Mum he’s already met Daniel, but the nurse or someone might, and that might make Mum feel bad. Or maybe it’s that I wish it would make Mum feel bad – because she probably wouldn’t really care.

I have a fantasy that one day my dad is just going to wake up. A few years ago I talked to some doctors about it, because if you read up on the internet it seems that people are waking up the whole time and