Shutter Island: The Final Moment

A Story by Yangy

One time in Higher English, we were to write something based upon Shutter Island, so I wrote about Andrew's final moments. Spoiler warning

I look back, the man that’s helped me through many struggles thinking about my wife. "Which would be worse? To live as a monster, or die as a good man?" I say to him, and I walk down the stairs.

As I’m accompanied to my room of slumber by the reapers that walk aside me, I mutter “I’ll see you again soon, Dolores”. A shiver surges through my veins as the shadow of the building floods over where I am, engulfing me in the darkness. I know I’m going to die, it’s what I want. I hear the guards whispering about me, their relief that their games are over and that they didn’t have to pretend a “lunatic” was in charge of them. Patients smile at me, look at me with a familiar and loving face. They don’t know where I’m going, and I hope they never will.

The black metal stairs in the brown-bricked hall twist and wind upwards as I climb them. My pearly gates are at the top. The stairs are my life, my memories " Twisted, distorted, tangled up in a million undoable knots. But I’m about to solve that issue. As we arrive at the top, there’s a large, steel door. No windows or bars; just the cold, dark metal. They turn the latch and open it, I witness a small bed surrounded by apparatus and surgical equipment. The reapers are greeted by another. This one has white robes and sky blue gloves that match his mask. I smile at him but he refuses to make eye contact. They escort me to my bed, my coffin. I sit on it as the reapers discuss my condition and what they plan to do to me.

As they discuss what they plan to do, I twiddle my thumbs. I am patient, and I want my judgement to go right. I can feel a twisting in my stomach, I am nervous. I say nothing. The reaper in his flowing white robes removes his glasses to get a better look of me and makes a disgusted face, he turns to his colleagues and continues to further talk about me. I think of my family, my three children and my wife " I long to see them again and I am finally getting my wish. I feel like a child on the morning of Christmas. My heart races with the excitement, my hands tremble and shake. My eyes fill with tears. The reapers notice this and sigh at the salty fluid. They take no other action, they need no sympathy - nothing is going badly for me. They’re making me happy again.

The light pours in from the small window at the top of the room, shining on the feet of the reapers. I see the golden sky; I hear birds chirping and a slight breeze coming through the cracks. It brings light into the grey room. I look at the clouds and know that is where I will be. I await the divine beings to return their attention to me, and to begin their plan with the words that I struggle to understand.

The reapers look at me. One grabs my legs and puts them on the bed. He lies me down and wheels me over to a corner. “Comfy?” he mockingly asks, I reply with “Yes, thank you sir” and he smirks. I laugh on the inside at the irony as I know the information that they don’t. I know that I remember my true past, my identity, my family and where they are.

I’m strapped in by the reapers, tight to the bed. They take my blood pressure and levels as I sit there and wait for them to collect their scythe. As they prick me and prod me with needles, I feel a tingling drowsiness, like I could sleep for the eternity I wish for. My heart skips. My vision blurs and I take one last breath myself as I inevitably pass out. My unconscious body lies there as they prepare the procedure, I unaware of what is going on. The reapers take their scythe and move it closer to my eye. They begin my lobotomy and I lie there. Living but void of all life, breathing, existing. This is where I stay until I can be checked in to my heaven. I don’t have to live with the crimes I committed. And then I truly know; it’s better to die a good man than live a monster.