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The Boy With His Drawings

 

My husband has been in a persistent vegetative state known as a “coma”, for three years without any sign of recovery. I have done everything from the modern medicine to alternative medicine practices, but nothing gives a positive a result. I keep visiting him every day after work. Being closer to him makes me feel he’s still alive.

One day, there was a new patient in the room next to my husbands. Out of courtesy, I talked to his mother about her boy’s condition and made other small talk too. His name is Timmy. He was ten years old. He looked like he loved drawing a lot. I said hi to him, and he replied with faint smile.

The day after, after the usual one way conversation with my husband, I visited Timmy’s room. His mother wasn’t there at the time. We talked for a moment, while he was busy with his drawings. At first I didn’t pay attention. But then I saw that he was drawing a guy wearing safari shirt and kneecap long white pants, standing beside a boy on top of a bed. It’s funny because that was the exact clothes my husband wore when he had the accident that lead to his coma.

The next day, I went to his room again. Timmy was drawing the same man with the same outfit, but now with a woman, she was wearing the same outfit I had on yesterday. The man wrote on the window inside the drawing, “I love you”. I was in tears and I asked him if I could have the drawing. “Sure”, he smiled.

When I arrived the next day, Timmy had already been discharged. So I returned to my husband’s room a bit disappointed, then I saw a piece of paper beside his bed. I noticed immediately that it was Timmy’s drawing. It was the same man again, drawn in the same style. But the background was filled with black. He looked like he was running away from something. I got cold shiver from the picture, and decided to throw it in the trash.

That night, the news hit me like lightning. My husband had died. Grief took over me and I started to take care of my husband’s funeral. The next day, the funeral was held at the local cemetery. Everybody came, and to my surprise even the boy and his mother were there. After the funeral, I went over to them to say thank you. Timmy handed me another piece of paper with a drawing on it.

It was a drawing of me in the clothes I was wearing yesterday, with a black background.



Credits to: chenliyong

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