[Episode 91085] [Episode 91085]The Vet studied the transfurred girl before him. Her emerald eyes were kindled flames, vibrant as the fiery mane that cascaded down her back, and her ears and tail twitched as her lips parted in a snarl. Crouched as she was with her arms spread and bosom outthrust, she presented a provocative, even sexy, image.
Looking down at her, many would see only an object of carnal desire, but not the Vet. Instead he saw a child, a vulnerable new-born with no knowledge of, or control over, the powerful new instincts that she had woken up with. Through the experience of years of observation as a healer he could see her pain in every movement of her muscles, hear it in every sound that passed her lips. He recognised it not as a pain of the body, but rather the pain of a fragmented mind and tormented soul; a pain only intensified by the series of unfortunate mistakes that had caused this unwanted transformation.
As they watched each other, her question echoed in the silence between them; are you gonna turn me back?
The question reverberated through his mind, dredging up memories he had banished from all but his worst nightmares. Memories of similar questions asked of him with the same depth of emotion; can you take away the pain?; is there a cure?; am I going to die?; why wont my mommy wake up?
He had heard such questions often over the years, but none more so than during that first year at the hospital. It was a time he would give almost anything to forget, a time that had nearly destroyed his soul and a time that suddenly seemed all too real as the memories washed over him...
He gently placed the bed-sheet over the face of his latest patient, in a vain attempt at restoring some dignity to a body that would not care about such vanities ever again. The wards were filled to capacity with the sick and dying and the smell of death permeated the warm air so thickly that it was difficult to even breathe. The official daily death toll was measured in the thousands, but for every one that was added to the count he guessed that a further ten had died in the streets.
It had begun, as with so many other disasters, with a drought. When the crops failed, famine had quickly swept across the land, swiftly followed by civil war as family fought family for the few scraps of food they could tear from the grasp of their neighbours. Those that had the strength to flee ran to the perceived protection of the cities, but death followed them even there. He wasn't sure what the conditions were like in the rest of the country but, in the city he was in, it was difficult enough to get clean water at the best of times in the poorer areas and slums. With the after effects of the drought and a near trebling of the population, conditions were perfect for the spread of cholera, typhoid and many other terrible diseases.
Whenever he saw a mother clutching the corpse of her dead baby, or a child weeping over a dying parent, he felt a stab of guilt tear through his belly. Whilst these people died by the score through lack of food and clean water, he had as much as he could possibly want, thanks to his powerful patron. He wasn't sure if he could ever forgive himself for that, or forget the incessant questions that tore at his soul.
Many of the dying had resigned themselves to their fate, but in the eyes of those who asked the questions, he saw the light of hope. It was a light that he had begun to curse constantly, as the questions never had a good answer. Did he answer truthfully and watch the light fade from their eyes, making their final days a sink of depression, or did he lie, tell them that everything was fine, only to see the hope be replaced by accusation as they eventually realised the truth? He had yet to find a good answer to that question, and those haunting eyes were waiting for him every time he lay down to sleep each night.
Are you gonna turn me back?
As his mind returned to the present he saw that same light of hope in the eyes before him.
Through years of practice, he kept his face calm as he considered the actions open to him and their inevitable consequences. Yet again an impossible question had left him with only a choice between two evils; to lie or to tell the truth. If he answered truthfully, it was possible that he would destroy those final shreds of hope that she was clinging to, but if he lied she would cling to that hope for as long as she could, thereby only prolonging her pain.
He lowered himself to his knees in front of the cage as he placed himself on her eye level. He had come to a decision about what to tell her.
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(Posted Fri, 20 Feb 2004 01:25)
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