Between Reason and the Veil

Between Reason and the Veil(Feivel Githae) As I watched her leave, I knew I would never see her again. I stood in the hospital bay while my eyes welled up with tears of sorrow. I held my head in cupped hands as the sickening reality dawned on me like dark clouds amid a brewing storm. This could not be happening.

I met Aeris while visiting my sick grandmother at the hospital. On one of my weekly visits, I noticed a girl at an awning near the main building, painting. I slowly approached her, the sound of the brushstrokes on the canvas getting louder and louder. She was beautiful. She had luscious dark, long hair that flowed down and rested calmly on her shoulder. She adorned a beautiful white dress with pink sandals on her feet. She painted with such elegance and poise,
every brushstroke with meticulous precision. Then she suddenly stopped, and I shifted my eyes to her face. Her gaze met mine. She had large brown eyes—not the piercing kind, but the gentle kind—the kind you could almost sink into. It felt like she could see right through me.

"Hello," she said, seeming slightly startled by my presence.

"Hey," I sheepishly replied, contrasting the stoic manner that I tried to carry myself in. Her voice was warm and calm; I could feel it in my toes.

"What are you painting?" I asked her.

"It's what I imagine the gates of heaven look like, at least my interpretation of it..." she paused, dabbing her paintbrush in more paint. "It's where I'm going." Her expression suddenly changed.

I didn't know what to think. A wave of sadness washed over me as I felt a great deal of sympathy toward her.

"Don't let it trouble you. It's an inoperable heart condition; I've had it all my life." My facial expression betrayed me, and she read me like a book. I did not reply, however.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"I'm Keaton," I replied.

"Aeris," she said, smiling ear to ear, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. We talked for a few more minutes, and I bade her goodbye so I could visit my grandmother.

Over the next few weeks, Aeris could not leave my mind. I saw her once again, this time formally, during visiting hours. She even lent me her painting of the gates of heaven, which I propped up next to my bedside to look at every day. The hospital visits would become more frequent, even though my grandmother had made a full recovery. Sometimes, I even visited her daily when I had the time, as I realized no one else really visited her, save for a few friends once in a while. We would spend hours talking and occasionally breaching visiting hours curfew,
which often wound me up in trouble.

However, one day, her condition suddenly worsened, and she had to undergo surgery. Fortunately, the doctor was able to perform the herculean task of saving her life. However, I was not able to visit her because of various restrictions. She had not fully recovered and was still on heavy medication. This worried me a great deal, but after three grueling weeks of waiting, I was finally permitted to see her.

My heart sank when I laid eyes on her. A shell of her former self. She had lost a considerable amount of weight. Her cheekbones were protruding, and so were her collarbones. Her eyes were dull, and her face was downcast. She tilted her head to me and burst out in tears upon reading my sorry expression. I sat with her and consoled her, exchanging no words for some time. I had never felt so much pain radiate from a person before. We sat there for a while, my mind in a sea of thought. What always puzzled me was her almost welcoming nature toward death, reminiscent of someone like Socrates, who embraced it with open arms. It was almost frightening. Would she have thought of it differently if she had seen herself now? I wondered to myself.

"Let's watch the sunset on the terrace," she said, breaking the silence.

This was against the rules, but I was willing to accept the repercussions anyway. I pushed her wheelchair onto the top floor and then to the terrace. I lifted her frail body onto my back. She felt so weak, and her bones so brittle, I thought she would collapse. The view was breathtaking, golden hues cast on the countryside with little glistening drops of water on the trees and on the grass below. However, I couldn't shake the thought of her passing away. The concept of her leaving everything behind, when she had so much to live for—a whole life ahead of her that was snuffed out the moment she was born with the heart condition—was dispiriting. I shuddered to think it. I whisked away those thoughts as quickly as they came into my mind. Because in that moment, with each other, we felt infinite.

I began to push her to the hospital bay area. I made my way down a ramp near the main building and toward the hospital bay area. This is when the unthinkable unfolded right before me. Aeris let out a guttural scream that tore throughout the hospital, reaching a crescendo. My heart palpitated violently, thrashing inside my chest. She fell to the ground, clutching her chest and writhing in what I imagine was excruciating pain. I feared the worst. Medical officers rushed to her aid, but it was too late. Aeris lay motionless on the ground. She was stretchered away to be given CPR. I watched the cascade of unfortunate events unfold as I sobbed inconsolably. I felt sick.

I waited for any news about her. Every passing minute felt like eternity. I went out to the hospital parking lot, not able to stomach the reality. I inhaled a generous lungful of air and exhaled. I whispered a litany of prayers to the deity that somehow her life would be spared. I looked up at the sky and saw a dove; for a moment, this brought a slight grin to my face. But as it came down, so did a weary tear from my eye. I thought it was a dove. It was just a paper bag.