Mr Bryant

Joe sat near the rose bushes in a wheelchair, he had a checked blanket covering his now useless legs. A nurse had wheeled him here, put on the brake and told him that she would be back within the hour to take him back in again. She had made the journey less than pleasant. " I have much better things to be doing than wheeling you around." She had said, "you could have sat by your window, why on earth we pander to your silly whim I don't know" Joe hadn't replied, what was the use. She had left him over three hours ago, and there was no sign of her coming back for him. Joe didn't mind though, he was quite content to sit here in the sunshine. There was not enough of that inside there, in fact there was not enough of anything in there. It was a grey faceless nondescript building, and although there were no bars on the windows or guards walking around, to him it was a prison.

The people in there were as grey as the building, and they had all lost the will to live he was sure. Even Elizabeth had given up in the end, and that had been the hardest thing for him to cope with. She had been his only friend in this hell hole, and now she was gone. They had buried her last week, and he had not been allowed to go to the burial incase he became excited. How the hell does some one become excited at a funeral?
It was just another way of theirs of keeping him in line, keeping him down. They had tried to do it with pills, but he had seen through them, and had started to hoard them under his mattress. They only changed the sheets once a week on Thursdays so he made sure to move them on the Wednesday night. He was not as daft as they thought he was. All he had to do was act as though he had taken them, and no one was any the wiser.

The food was terrible, everything was boiled or mashed till the taste was gone. He hated this existence, he could not call it a life. The staff treated him as though he was an inconvenience, a piece of meat. All his self worth had disappeared since he had been a resident of Sunnymede. Self respect meant nothing here.

He was 82 years old, he had fought in the war, run his own farm for over thirty years, until he had fallen and the postman had found him at the bottom of his stairs. Oh those busy bodies at the hospital had said that he could not go home alone, and had to come to good ole Sunnymede. He had hated it immediately. A small room with nothing more than a bed and a chest for his clothes. He was not allowed to put pictures up, or personal effects on display. His room felt like a cell, and his so called carers were worse than prison guards. There was no kindness in this place at all. Then there had been Elizabeth. Although she was 79 and age withered, her beauty shone through. Her kindness was legendary, she had been the only sunshine in Joe's life. Her passing had affected him so much, he couldn't face living in this regime without her.

She had come here because her family could not be bothered with her anymore. She had brought six children into the world, cared for them and even sold her home to help them out, and this was all the thanks she had. Of course the place had killed her within a year. As soon as you put in here you gave up hope, they helped that hope into a taxi and sent it on it's way waving and smiling.

He had refused to let it get to him, the cold baths, the bad food and the cruel staff. He was stronger than them all.

A bird landed on a bush next to his chair, and he held his breath so as not to scare it away. Oh how he envied that bird, it could fly away without a care in the world. Not like him confined to this bloody chair. Life was so unfair with the hands it dealt out. He had no children, no family anywhere. Who would mourn his going? No-one. The bird hopped onto the arm of his chair, and he could have sworn that it looked into his eyes. It gave a nod of it's head, and then flew away. It did not fly out of sight right away though, it circled over his head singing to him.

That was the sign that he had been waiting for. Today was Wednesday, move the pills day. Only today the nurse had taken him out before he had had time to hide them. They were in the pocket of his dressing gown right now. He could feel them burning into his thigh. That would show them, it would bring the social workers in. How had he not thought of it before?


Another hour later, Nurse Susan Thomas was having a cup of tea in the kitchen. Looking out of the window, she spied Mr Bryant in his chair by the roses. God how the hell did she manage to forget all about him. Running across the garden towards him, her steps slowed. He was not moving, he must be asleep.

Reaching his side she stopped. He was sitting in his chair with a smile on his face, he was not breathing. In his open hand were some small yellow pills. Sitting on his shoulder was a small robin. He looked right into her eyes, and she was sure it smiled at her, chirped and flew into the air and out of sight.