MADONNA (Part 1)

CHAPTER 1

Madonna had laid in her death bed and wished she was dead already. She couldn't even live her life independently, and it had been like that for the past few years. She was bedridden, and she was extremely tired of it already. She wanted to pull the plug already, and she didn't see any reason to stay alive anyway. She wanted to go to a place of rest. 

The primary reason why she had decided to stay a bit longer was because of her children, but right now, she couldn't even bear her children watching her with such sad faces. She was tired of having to see her children cry each day they see her. 

She had first been diagnosed with cancer some years back, and then it got a lot worse when she developed a stroke, and now she couldn't move any of her body parts. Even her neck required support to turn slightly around. A massive tear rolled down her eyes when she remembered days to go around to wherever she wanted without needing assistance from anyone. 

Her husband had just left her in the room some minutes ago after wept uncontrollably for almost an hour. She was tired of her husband having to shed tears every day because of her. She needed to go somewhere peaceful and also allow them some peace.

At least if she left them, they would just cry for a while, and it would all be over right there. Nothing more and nothing less, they wouldn't have to cry every day, and they could all move on with their lives. 

She had been a young, vibrant lady who took care of everyone around her so generously that she would spend until her last dollar to make everyone happy. When she was first diagnosed with cancer, she had wept uncontrollably with her husband. She should have saved her strength back then and probably would be making use of it now. She couldn't even lift a finger anymore. She simply had huge tear balls rolling down her cheeks now and then, whenever she had the strength to push it down. More of down the bed, though, because she wasn't sitting straight up. She had been in this lying position for how long? Months? Or a year? 

She couldn't even keep track of time anymore. She had no idea what it felt like to be outside the hospital. She hadn't seen it day and night for a long time. The hospital white was what she saw each day and night. The bright light at every moment made it very difficult for her to know how much time had passed, or maybe it was late. Sleep couldn't make her understand when it was nighttime too. She slept anytime she felt like it, which wasn't very often. She was sedated on most occasions even. 

She needed to get peace. Her family too. They all needed relief. 

She looked at her sister in the eyes, and her eyes were bright and full. One would think her sister would be teary-eyed or something, but the reverse was the case. Madonna can't even remember if she had ever seen her sister. Her sister was never married, and so she had lived with her since just some weeks after she moved into her husband's house. 

Her husband had protested then saying he wanted his privacy with his wife in his house, but Madonna had pleaded with him saying she wouldn't disturb anyone as she was cool-headed and rarely talked to anyone. Moreover, Madonna needed her sister to live with her. She had to watch her closely. They were the only children, and their parents were late already. 

She didn't have much of a choice than to invite her over to live with them, and her husband had agreed after many pleas. 

One would think Chantel would leave after a while, maybe a year or two, or Madonna thought. Instead, she had stayed till she was done having three kids, and now she was still here with them. In total, she had lived with them for about eight years already. Nobody complained about it anymore because Chantel refused to budge. 

Everyone saw her as a part of the family already. 

"P....p...pu...ll...the..pl...pl...plug ch...ch..." She said and stopped midway as she was fragile already. That was the most she had said in weeks. She was equally tired of not being able to talk anytime she wanted to as well. It was killing her and eating her up slowly. She needed relief and peace. "You say what sis? To pull the plug? Been wondering why you didn't say it this whole time. You have just been keeping the whole family in extreme sadness all this while. We've been having to spend extra cash too and clean you up also. I'm glad you finally made a good decision," she concluded and laughed out loud. 

The sound of her sister's loud laughter reverberated in her ears. If she weren't Madonna's sister, she would have said she was probably wicked or demonic, but then she knew her sister wasn't intended that way. 

She was a psychopath, but she tried to hide it from her husband and kids. They had lived together all their lives, so both sisters knew what each other could do and could not do. That was why Madonna had asked her to pull the plug because she knew the right person for the correct assignment. 

Chantel could pull the plug without batting an eyelid or even looking back. That was what she wanted. A brave one so she won't die after looking at a tear-filled eye or a face wearing a lot of sorrow. Her sister walked over to where the plug was connected, and Madonna braced herself for what was to occur next. She knew that whatever it was that would come would sure be better than all this that she had been going through. 

Peace.

*******************

Lydia had come to do something in the community, and she needed to do that secretly. She had been sent on a mission by her grandmother before she died, and she knew she had no choice but to carry it out. She looked around as she alighted from the vehicle to make sure nobody was following her and quickly took a turning inside the bush path covered in shrubs and figs. She used her hands to make a path and even got bruised in the process. 

She wasn't mainly used to walking in between bushes, but she knew she had to complete this task whether she liked it. As she walked deeper into the forest, her legs making contact with the dried leaves on the floor made some eerie noises, but she knew she had to continue. She contemplated taking off her shoes so it wouldn't make any kind of sounds whatsoever, but it looked like she was making more noise as she advanced into the bush. 

She quickly took off her shoes and walked on silently. She couldn't take the risk of having anybody follow her or even seeing her there at all. She had to be very quiet with whatever she was doing. 

She dropped her bag under a shed and started walking more profoundly and more in-depth. She could always pick it up when she passed there on her way back home, and by then, she would have completed the task. She shouldn't have carried a white bag in the first place anyway, and she couldn't risk the color giving her away. 

More reason why she had worn a black gown and black sandals. The white bag should have been brown or black as well. Either way, there was no time to hit herself for making that decision right now. She just had to keep going and do what she wanted to do. 

She then thought about her mother, if her mother had done this when she was supposed to, everything would have gone smoothly, and she wouldn't have to be the one going through this risky process right now. She knew there was no turning back at this juncture right now. 

She had to forge ahead. She couldn't afford to lose hope right now. She hoped it was something salvageable. She looked around again and continued walking. Then a sharp stick pierced her feet, and she wanted to scream, but she knew better than to. She just held it in, bent down slowly, cleaned the blood, and continued walking. She could always treat her feet after she was done with all this. There would be a lot of time for that later. 

Just when she thought she was safe and almost reaching get destination successfully, a man came out from a left turning she hadn't known the forest had. "Who goes there?!" He shouted, and she froze on the spot. This wasn't good at all. 

**************

Her children then came into the ward, and that stopped Chantel from pulling the plug. 

Another tear rolled down Madonna's eyes. She couldn't do this anymore. She was truly tired of it all, but she couldn't leave her cute children alone to train by some other woman and her husband. She needed to stay healthy for them so she could teach them herself. She would rather sit in a wheelchair and watch her children grow than just die and leave them early. She almost forgot that her children and her husband needed her. She almost forgot that they didn't give up on her yet, even the doctor's says she had a fifty-fifty chance of survival. 

So, what exactly was she thinking about telling her sister to pull the plug? She shouldn't give up on herself just yet. It was simply too early for that. She was too young to die and to crown it. All her children were just too young for her to leave them. She was even lucky. She had a chance to decide if she wanted to die or not. A whole lot of people didn't also have the opportunity to choose when they wanted to die or not. She had already made her decision. She wouldn't pull out the plug. She had to stay healthy, and she would. She had always been a fighter anyways.

"Mummy, Daddy says you'll be fine soon. I can't wait for you to be back, mummy. I miss the games we play together," her second daughter said, smiling even though tears filled her eyes as she was talking. "Mummy, I can't wait to read with you again. My grades have been kind of falling," her son said and smiled brightly. She wondered how he could still smile so brightly despite the sight in front of him. She smiled amidst the literal pain she felt and the heavyweight on her mind. 

Her sister looked at her, and tears rolled down the sheets from her eyes. She wasn't ready to die yet. She just realized that she had a lot of things to stay back alive for. 

"Dad said we shouldn't stay too long, though. I guess we gotta go right now," her daughter said she looked at her older brother. " He's outside, he said he didn't want to come in right now," he said just like he knew the question on her mind. 

Nick had always been like that, soft-hearted. She had been the fighter and the stronger one in the relationship. She didn't hold it against him. She was certainly not ready to see him break down again after what has happened in the morning and not even in front of the kids. He needed the break too. The peace she had craved for earlier. 

"You should go meet your father," her sister said to them and her older son, Sam looked her squarely in the eye. Madonna knew that look. He had never liked her, and he told her every time she got the chance to. He always said there was something not quite right about her.

He was right, but then he was barely six years old back later how could she have explained something like that to him. That his sister was a psychopath and capable of doing anything? She couldn't believe she had just considered leaving her kids in the hands of Chantel some minutes ago. 

Her sister moved towards the plug once her children left the room, and Madonna shook her head as fast as she could go to tell her that she changed her mind. Chantel stopped and folded her arms across her breasts, then stared at her widely. 

"You think you have the right to change your mind anytime you like, right? Well, I'm sorry but not here, okay. So goodbye, sis!" She said. Madonna tried to move or even tap the emergency button, but Chantel was faster and, in a flash, pulled out the plug.