Lucy loved laughter. Especially the laughter of children. It was pure and completely unrestrained. Laughter was why she had become a school teacher. Children laughed so often in school.
The problem with loving laughter, was that it was rare in the hospital Lucy had been in for six months. She had been in bed for months while doctors conducted tests and told her repeatedly she was, “Undiagnosable.”
Every night she desperately tried to remember laughter. All she heard was sobbing and weeping. In turn she would weep. Her family had visited her once and that was only to finalize her will. After they got what they wanted from her they left her alone to die.
She was starring out the window watching birds being fed by an old man on a bench. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear the nurse walk in. “And how are we today Miss Lucy?”
Lucy turned her head and examined the nurse. She was pretty and relaxed but rather humorless. “I’m well thank you for asking Miriam. How are your children?”
Miriam checked Lucy’s charts, “Just as fine as they where yesterday, and the day before. I’ll be back in a few hours we can talk then.” Miriam fixed Lucy’s blankets and walked out the door. Lucy turned back to the window and watched the birds a little more. After a while she drifted off to sleep.
She was awakened a few hours later by shouting. She opened her eyes and found she was surrounded by doctors. She tried to ask what was going on, but found she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying either. She could only lie there passively.
Finally all went quiet. Lucy started to cry. She wasn’t ready to die, she prayed, she begged, but it was no good. The doctors started unhooking her from the machines. Removing all the needles and tubes that had been stuck in her body over the months.
After a while she realized she could move. She lsat up. Her body was taken away, and she found she was left behind. Lucy continued to sob, but no one could see or hear anymore.
She sat there for what felt like eons. She was defeated and there was nothing she could do. Once she finally admitted this to herself she noticed a light on the far wall. She looked up. Right next to the window was what seemed to be a tunnel. It seemed to be made of pure light and was almost blinding.
She hesitantly walked over and stepped inside unsure of herself. She contemplated turning back, but then she heard it. It was faint at first but then it became more and more clear. She dried away her tears and stepped inside running down the tunnel. She was drawn like a moth to a flame. It was laughter that drew her in, the laughter of children.