The Last Fallen Leaf

The air becomes colder as Caleb silently observed the night sky from his window. He found himself lost in thought while watching some leaves from the trees slowly drifting into the ground. One fallen leaf curved into him and was caught by his hand. He stared at it for a moment, making him feel sad whenever he thinks about the leaf dying despite of the fact that it will be reborn in the spring. The only thing he did was clenched the golden leaf in his hand and watched it as it break into pieces.

A few moments after, the boy decided to left the window open and leave the room. Then from there, he heard a soft voice weeping…

"A boy like him should not be sick," it was a voice coming from his disheartened mother, cutting off the doctor's explanation of the treatment's side effects they were proposing for them. "He should live, just like any other normal kids do!"

The doctor, on the other hand, was earnestly trying his best to explain things to the mother while giving his honest sympathies to her.

"I know what you're feeling right now." The doctor said after a short glance he made with the latest medical result of his thirteen year old patient, Caleb. "We know how hard it is for you to see your son like this, but we must be realistic. This is going to be a long fight for him, but we're doing our best to get him through it." Then the doctor started to outline the specific treatments and drugs that they would like to suggest for their patient's case. The way they talked about those things was way too serious, that they didn't even notice that Caleb was there, cautiously listening and peeking behind the slightly opened door of that small, windowless conference room.

"They were talking about my illness again, "Caleb said it in a dismissive voice, only to convince himself that his illness doesn't affect him---or rather, he doesn't want to be bothered by the reality that he's dying in that place called "hospital", where the walls were closed up all around the room and the windows were cloaked with plain white curtains.

Caleb is sick. And yes, it annoys him, especially when he perceives his mother with such a hopeless face. He never wished to be a burden. He never wished to become ill. He never wished to see her mother grieve again. Just like what he had seen to his father, along with white casket and flowers and the sea of black-clothed strangers. However, a few years later after his father's death, the doctor diagnosed him with the same, and that they said he's still have plenty of time before things got into worse.

But now, it seems like everything was counting down like a ticking clock up to his every hours left.

Caleb gently turned away from the conference's door to avoid being noticed. After a minute of pause, he decided to return to his room. He walked into the shallow trail with his mind floating, blending with the nagging thoughts of hopelessness. When he got into his room, he instantly sat down on his creaky hospital bed and tossed his tired body into it. He blankly gazed at the white ceiling while listening on the ticking sound of the clock. The next thing that came through his mind was the image of him enjoying his teenage life. He imagined himself going out with his friends, go into a university to finish a degree, find a suitable job, and have a girlfriend. Everything that he imagined was all wonderful. But as soon as he could reach them with his hand, they instantly sink back into the reality that all of it was just a reverie. His chances of living were small, and there's no full guarantee that he could survive every harsh treatments and operations for him to stay alive.

"Just like…dreaming of something that isn't real."

Caleb pulled his pillow into his embrace and buried his nose in its cover. After a while, he suddenly felt his chest squeezed hard and his pulse quickened. He also started to have a series of short, heavy breaths and faintness. No doubt, it's another attack! He couldn't help but to feel scared. He tried to gradually sit up even though he couldn't gather strength to his weakened arms. He cuddled his chest while trying to regulate his breathing. After a few short breaths, he leaned his body to reach for the nurse call button, but he failed due to his weakened arms and hands. He didn't even know what happened next after that. The only thing he could remember was his senses went blurry before he collapsed into his bed.

Chilling silence was about to swallow everything inside Caleb; his senses, as well as his consciousness. He almost felt like he was slowly fading away. Not until he heard a voice, almost howling and said…

"Hey Caleb, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

After hearing the voice, Caleb gradually opened his weakened eyes. The first thing he saw was a figure of a boy who is almost the same age as him, blocking most of the light coming from the tad opened door of his semi-private room. Caleb did not answer the young stranger's demand. He just looked up and stared at the stranger with an odd expression drawn into his exhausted face.

"W—who are…you?" Caleb forced the word out of his lips even though he knew it was a little too late. Then without a warning, he lost his consciousness while having his last memory of that stranger's voice calling out his name, slowly fading like a soft whisper that goes smoothly through his ears.

Yes, a perfect stranger suddenly bore in the middle of his dying scene and repeatedly calls his name. He doesn't know why that stranger suddenly appeared. He didn't even know him. But it seems that Caleb can't shake off the voice of that stranger from his mind.

So calm…as if he was not afraid at all.

Caleb fell asleep and everything went dark. But it was not an upsetting darkness. It was a darkness in which harmony can be found, far from being dead. He didn't know how much time had passed since he had an attack and fell into deep sleep. An hour? Maybe two. But in reality, only thirty minutes had passed. But to him, it seemed like it was over an hour.

A few minutes later, the room's door was opened and someone had just come in. Caleb's sleep was interrupted by the conversations inside the room and eventually caused him to awake.

"Oh, good! You're awake!" a familiar voice came. Caleb opened his eyes slowly and looked into his right, seeing three blurry figures above him. One of them was his mother, and the other was his doctor being assisted by a nurse.

"I—I'm not dead, didn't I…?"

"Of course you're not. You're still thirteen. It's too early for you to throw in the towel just yet. You don't have to worry, you just had a mild attack and it's getting better now." The doctor said while putting some check marks on his monitoring sheet, "But you have to be more careful next time. It is better not to get your Mama worried."

That's right---his Mom. As much as possible, Caleb did not want to see his mother get worried about him. There were other reasons of course, but that's the main reason why Caleb wishes to live fully and happily---and that was all for his mother.

"I'm sorry Ma," Caleb could only apologize. "I'm fine, so don't worry, okay?"

His mother couldn't avoid her tears to burst while glancing to his son, "I'm glad to hear that from you, dear." Then she stroked her fingers to his son's tanned hair and cry. "I'm very much glad to hear that," she repeated. And while the two were having their touching moment, the doctor shortly interrupted and said…

"Good thing your son was able to push the nurse call button. It saves him a lot this time."

A crease was formed on Caleb's forehead after hearing the doctor's statement.

"I—I did?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yes." The doctor replied.

But that's impossible. Caleb was definitely sure that he didn't hit the button when he was trying to do it.

'Did I really push the button?' Caleb asked himself. Then all of a sudden, he remembers the stranger who unexpectedly arrived on his room while he was having a heart attack. 'Maybe he was the one who did that?'

And so Caleb turned to his mother and said, "There was a boy who came here…"

"A—a boy?" his mother reacted.

"Yes, he was the same as my age. He went to this room while I was having an attack."

"But we haven't seen one," the doctor interrupted. "You were alone when we came here."

"R—really?" Caleb's eyes went narrow as he continued to speak. "But I'm sure there was…"

"Shush…" his mother suddenly halt his talk. She grabbed his son's favorite red blanket and put it all over his body. "You should rest now, sweetie. We can talk about it later, okay?"

"But Mama…"

"The doctor said you shouldn't let yourself be stressed. It's not good for you. I don't want you to have an attack again, so please…" his mother leaned closer to him and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. "Sleep tight, sweetheart."

Then his mother, as well as the doctor and nurses, turned around and walked out of the room in silence.