Hi I'm Christine and I am 20 years old. I just want to share my experience to something. Something about killing someone to make him rest from the suffering he endured. But killing him did not make him happy. And all I can say is, I'm sorry.

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It was three months by now since the doctor said that dad has leukemia. Dr. Emma Williams said that the leukemia my daddy had was hereditary. He took it from her mom, my grandmother, who died at the age of 40 because of the same disease.

A month after that, dad had his first fall on the floor. He laid unconscious on our kitchen floor while nobody is watching. Going home from school, my 16 years old brother Ethan saw him. Ethan called first the ambulance. By the time he called me and mom, they're already in the hospital. It was St. Joseph's Hospital and I can't forget that name because I stayed there for my dad's sake.

Dad survived at the emergency room then he was transferred to ICU (Intensive Care Unit). Dr. Williams said that dad's white blood cells exceeded his red blood cell and as a result, body breakdown.

Dad can't talk for a day. He lay silent on the hospital bed. After the incident, he was like a dead man. Dextrose on his right hand, and heart rate monitor on the left.

On the next morning, I heard my dad whispering. "Christine." He called me on the side of the bed. "Hey dad. Are you alright?".
"I'm okay"
"You should get some rest."
My dad didn't answer. I could see his sad face. He was thinking about something that he don't want to talk about.

On the afternoon of the same day, mom talked to the other doctors--doctor for the heart, lungs, blood, and brain. They will be the maintenance for my dad's health.

After a week dad got his attack. I was the one who is guarding him. I shouted for help. I shouted for the nurse. Dad shook violently with horror. Bubbles came out of his mouth like being poisoned. The pupils of his eyes went up to his brain leaving the white parts visible. Two doctors and three nurses rushed to dad. They held him tightly to stop him from shaking. Then suddenly dad stopped his action with the life monitor signaling a death sound. "No!" I cried a lot. I'm afraid to lose my father. Then a doctor took the defibrillator rubbing it together with space. "Clear!" He shouted while punching the two instruments on my dad's chest. The life monitor was still showing a straight line with prolonged sound. And for the second time around, the doctor punched again the two objects. "Clear!"

I was relieved when I saw zigzag lines on the monitor. It faded my fears of losing him. I smiled in the happiness of all. My dad lived.

He survived for three weeks but still on the bed. Dr. Williams said that his condition is not good and will be worse. She added that we should undergo dad to chemotherapy. And that made my mom think while biting her fingers. We paid 400 dollars a day for the ICU room alone and 50 dollars for each of the five doctors. And it's been three weeks. We already drained our bank accounts. Each chemotherapy claim to pay 20,000 $ per session.

And mom said yes. "We will do everything we can to save your father" mom told me and my brother.

Dad will go chemotherapy once a week. And he already did 2. We gathered all financial help we can get. Ranging from my aunts and uncles, and to the farthest relative we have.

Time came that we don't have anything anymore. No more money left in our hands. Mom cried and so did we. Dad's condition is getting worse and he is closer to worst. He had 3 heart attacks on the last 2 weeks and the disease is slowly consuming him from the inside. He can't talk anymore and only the hospital apparatus held his life. But I can feel that he is fighting to survive.

One day, while me and my brother are guarding dad on his hospital bed, mom came. He called us and took us to a room. When I opened the door, I saw Dr. Williams sitting and hands clasped on the table. Mom sat on the empty chair and we followed after. Dr. Williams started to talk.

"I know this is hard for you Mrs. Clinton but things are getting a little bit tighter. All I want to say is that we should conduct euthanasia to your husband. This will end his suffering and also yours. You should make him rest now. And you knew that this sickness is hard to brawl. Only a percentage of people can survive this. But it is your decision now. It's your choice."

A long silence occurred. I took my mother's hand while saying my objections. "Mom! we can't just let daddy die! No!" Dr. Williams stared to the other side of the table. "I understand that Christine but you must understand too. Your dad is dying. His soul is already floating. You can't let him endure all this pain. We can't let him suffer anymore." Mom expressed what she felt.

I went to thinking for a moment about what she said. She's right. She's got a point. I can't let dad be tortured by his sickness. And for that, I agreed with tears rushing through green eyes. And my younger brother can do nothing about it.

Dr. Williams said that she will go to dad's room at one o'clock. She will bring everything she need for dad to rest in the grim disease.

We waited there at the room we didn't take our lunch. We just mourned for dad. We cried and cried and,

Dr. Williams came from the door. She brought with her a small kit. She opened it and it was full of medicines. I don't know what medicines are those but I only knew one thing, it will kill dad.

She took a syringe from the kit and filled it with a chemical from the small unlabeled bottle. "Are you ready Mrs. Clinton?" She asked my mom. Mom was whimpering. She can't talk but she still managed to say yes.

Dr. Williams started to inject the chemical to my dad's wrist. She didn't sweat. She was confident on what she was doing and I can say that it is part of her profession.

"Bye dad!" I hushed my voice.

Me, mom, and my brother hugged together in tears.

"Toooooooott" the monitor fluted. Dr. Williams lift her left arm and looked to her watch on her wrist. "Time of death, 1:23". Then she went to my mother and tapped her shoulder. "It's okay now Mrs. Clinton. He will no longer suffer. He's soul will rest now."

After my dad's burial, everything was peaceful. I guessed dad really rested his soul. I can bring back my smiles now. Then harsh news came to us.

Dr. Williams was found dead in his house. According to the police, she was pushed by someone and she dropped to her stairwell. She cracked her head open and broke her bones. The police can't figure the suspect of the accident. There was no single clue.

Two days after that, Sunday, we went to the church to pray for dad, for us, and for everything we did wrong. We went home at 1:10 after we had our lunch at the mall.

Mom took the key in her purse then started inserting it in the doorknob. When she pushed the door open, we were shocked. Our house was messed up. The furniture were not organized. Objects dropped from where they belong. Glasses and kitchen utensils are broken. The inside of the house was hit by hurricane. But there was one thing that was so terrifying--the words on the floor--. The words was painted in blood. The fonts was clear enough to let the three of us read. The words are: 'WHY DID YOU DO THAT?'

Then a sudden howl came to my dad's room. It was emptied after he died. We can distinguish that the voice was dad's and we can clearly hear what he spoke.

'Why did you do that!? I was not dead and you killed me! My soul can't rest! Hell will burn me! Why did you do that! Why?'

The inside of the house went rattling while he spoke. The floor was shaking and his voice grew louder and louder. I can't stop my self crying. The nightmare during in the hospital with dad came back to my mind. I cried and cried.

And I kept saying, "I'm sorry dad!"

This part is for AngieLikesBookslol and Missy_BraniacJ.

I hope you'll follow them.

XD