Innocence of Maddness

A narrative I wrote for school. My teacher told me that death is too serious a subject for my age.

   I was at work when it happened.

  I should have taken the day off, but I was in denial it would ever happen.

  It was 12:34 P.M.

  And

  My

  Wife

  Was

  Dead

  .

   She had melanoma skin cancer. In the back of my mind, I guess I always knew she would die from it. Yet, I failed to face that fact. I pretended everything was normal. But it wasn’t, and when she died, I couldn’t do anything without thinking about it. It ate me alive. Now that I look back on it, I think she                                              

     I was depressed at first, but as time went on, the sorrow turned to anger, and the anger into a desire for revenge. Really, there was no one to blame, but in my rage, I looked for a scapegoat. Finally, I found one. The nurse! Of course! Why should she get to walk this earth while my wife was dead? I convinced myself that my wife’s nurse, Ann, had not given my wife the medicine she needed.  In my head, I thought up a plan. I was going to kill Ann… take the life that deprived my wife of hers.

   It was 11:39 on a cool Thursday night when I approached the hospital, with a goal in my mind and a gun in my hand.

     “Is Nurse Ann Parker here?” I asked the receptionist

Slowly, she replied, “Y-y-y-yeah…. Um… wait a minute.”

 She called the police. I guess it was not the smartest of me to walk into a hospital with a weapon in hand.  I was driven away in a cop car, and soon enough, I was sitting in a metal chair, with a bright light blearing in my face.

   “Why where you at the hospital?” one police man asked.

  “I wanted to see Ann Parker,” I replied.

  “Why did you have a gun?”

  “That’s none of you business.”

   “WHY. DID. YOU. HAVE. A. GUN?”

   “You don’t need to know!”

     When he put his large, sweaty hand on my shoulder, I was quick to answer.

   “I WAS GOING TO KILL HER!! SHE MURDERED MY WIFE!!”

   “When was this crime committed? Do you have any details?”

  “Last month.  My wife had cancer and Ann refused to treat her.”

   After that conversation and a call to the hospital, instead of throwing me in jail, they put me in a mental hospital.

    When they threw me in there I was furious. When I got there they put me in different corridor then the others �" It was labeled “Potentially Dangerous”.  The whole building was covered in overgrown plants, and somehow that comforted me. I guess if a vine could live here… so could I. The whole place reminded me of a cross between an old high school, and a jail. I was sober, not even trying to make any progress until one day when I stumbled across and unmarked room �" one of the ones that had usually been locked �" and ventured inside. Shelves lined the walls from celling to floor. The shelves were filled with copper jars, neatly placed next to each other, one by one. Curious, I opened up one of the jars. Inside were ashes, and a little piece of paper. I picked it up, it read:

Larry Santino

Died March 30, 1989

Aged 56 Years

 

I looked around �" I didn’t want to die here, no, I didn’t want to be stored in a copper jar, with no one to

grieve for me. I was going to get OUT.

 

 I was in there for ten months. Ten Months. Finally, they noticed I was getting better and got me a psychiatrist to sort out my problems.  I spent a lot of time with him, and he was really helpful.  His name was Bradford, and every day for a month we met. He helped me restore my sanity, and for that I was thankful. One day, he brought in Ann.

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

Ann shook her head, “It’s common for those close to a diseased person to feel grief and blame it on another.”

“Not like this!” I replied.

“It’s okay,” Ann said, and smiled lightheartedly, “I forgive you.”

“You want to meet for lunch tomorrow?” I asked, casually.

“Sure,” She smiled, “I would like that.”

    I still long for Sarah, but I have learned to live without her. I think it’s good for me; It has made me a stronger person. Yes, I was mad. In only two years I went through depression, anger, insanity, and now… hope.  I am sorry I ever thought of hurting Ann, but things are better now. I think Sarah would be happy… glad that I’m finally peaceful.  Ann reminds me her. That’s why tomorrow is our wedding. ♥

Author's Note

I know it's should probably be drawn out more...