This drabble spawns from an assignment I had to do in my Government class. We were suppose to write about our view on doctors allowing to give terminally ill patients a cocktail that contained a drug that would kill them sooner than having to live through the pain of dying slowly, with the patients consent of course. We were supposed to write 50 words. I thought why not double to words and present it in the way of a story that clearly describes my view of assisted suicide.
I wish I could die
I woke up and all I felt was the pain. I didn’t know how long I could live like this. How could I stop this madness? I knew that my time was coming, yet it wasn’t coming fast enough. I had asked the doctors for the drugs that kill you faster. They had said that it was illegal in this state. Not only was the pain physical, but emotional. To watch my wife and daughters cry was just as unbearable as the pain inside. So here I sit, in pain waiting for the day I could finally rest in peace.

