Envy

A man gets more than he bargained for

Words 1970

JONATHON
Dr.Jonathon Greene held the woman’s hand, ‘The operation went well Margaret.’ He saw pain flit across the elderly woman’s face and offered more words of encouragement, ‘you’re a very brave woman.’ He squeezed her hand gently. ‘I’ll leave you in good hands with the nurses and I’ll check in again tomorrow.’
         His tone changed from warmth to one of efficiency as he turned to the nursing staff and gave rapid-fire instructions. Jonathon Greene was known throughout the hospital as a brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon, a hard taskmaster and heaven help anyone who didn’t follow his orders to the letter. But there was another side to Jonathon the man, a dark side, which somehow, he’d managed to keep secret.

🖤

The mist swirled around Jonathan’s body as he clung to the rock face. He craved this isolation, somewhere he could be himself, where no one could see or hear him. No one who knew him would guess of his need to escape every few months to release the pent-up desires he managed to control—most of the time.
         He found being alone, just himself and the elements, an antidote to the claustrophobic atmosphere of the hospital and the consulting room where he often needed to deliver bad news.
         Climbing without using ropes focused his mind. He relished the sound of his own breath, ragged from the effort of reaching for an elusive hand hold, or searching for the next place to put his foot. A few more metres and he would reach his goal and what he strived for—the ecstatic release of pent up frustrations— something he desperately craved.
         He rested, gathering strength for the final push whilst looking up at the deep blue, cloudless sky. A kittyhawk hovered above him, searching for prey—an activity Jonathon knew only too well, for he too was a silent predator who’d perfected the art of making women trust him—a lift, a drink, a smile too polished and friendly to question. Each foray began with a new name, a new life, and ended the same way with him wiping his bloody hands on the dirt.
         His mind on his next conquest, his feet lost their grip—he slipped, frantically his hand grabbed fresh air. Falling, his cries were heard only by the solitary hawk as it circled high above him.

🖤

PATRICK
Across the waiting room Patrick watched her, warmed by her glorious smile. He, like most of the patients who were waiting to see their doctors in the outpatient. He knew her simply as Sarah, Dr Jonathon Green’s nurse and personal assistant.
         She had a knack of ensuring all the patients felt special, calling them all by their first names. If only his life had taken a different path, he thought, he might have stood a chance, been brave enough to speak to her, to even ask her out.
         Cardiomyopathy. How he despised the word which had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. If life had been fairer, he would be doing everything normal twenty-two-year-olds were doing but instead he was here to discuss a heart transplant. Life’s shit.

         ‘Patrick?’ Sarah, looking right at him, smiled, ‘Jonathon will see you now.’

         He stood and pushed back the hair which flopped over one eye, before following Sarah into the consulting room, appreciating her figure in the white uniform. Doctor Green had been his physician for the last four years since his heart showed signs of failing.

         ‘Come in Patrick, take a seat.’ Dr. Greene, waved his hand towards the vacant chair across from his desk.
         Patrick knew what was coming, the transplant word had been bandied around almost all his life as the last option. As Jonathon talked, Patrick’s thoughts were of why me? Why not you? He barely listened to the words, instead stared intently at the broad, handsome face of the man sitting there before him. He envied those perfect teeth, the athletic body and worst of all, the look of adoration Sarah was sending his way.

         You’ve got it all, good looks, good health. Why? I want your life, you smug bastard.

         ‘…so, I’ll get you placed on the waiting list for a transplant, Patrick. Highest priority,’ the doctor’s voice dragged him into the present. The Doctor gave an encouraging smile before continuing, ‘remember to always keep your phone turned on, you could get a call any time, night, or day, one never knows. Let’s hope it’s soon, hey?’
         The young man tried to show some appreciation and yet he felt only an immense resentment toward his physician—and jealousy.

🖤

Months had crept by since Dr Greene delivered the news there was little more he could offer in the way of treatment. The waiting game had begun. He’d felt trapped like an animal in his home by his mother’s concern, constant fussing and futile attempts to fatten up his skinny frame. Eventually he’d become so weak he was confined to a hospital room where the only constants were the sounds of machines beeping and the crippling waiting until a heart became available. He didn’t even know how he felt about receiving a stranger’s heart. It wasn’t like he wished someone else to die, and yet the only way he could continue to have a life, some poor innocent had to lose theirs.

         Dr. Jonathon and Sarah’s friendly rapport had only served to convince Patrick they were lovers. His thoughts darkened, resentment and jealousy grew, even thinking of them together making love made his heart falter. He gasped for air—the lack of oxygen seemed like drowning. In a panic he grabbed for the call button just as the door opened, and a nurse switched on the light. Efficiently she adjusted the incline on his bed and increased the oxygen flow rate and gave a relieved smile as her patient began to breathe normally, ‘I was just coming to give you the good news, Pat. A heart has become available.’’

🖤

Another climber discovered Jonathon’s body at the bottom of the cliff face—still alive, but barely. The ambulance transported him to hospital—the one where he’d spent most of his career and Patrick now lay hovering between life and death waiting for a donor heart.
         On his driver’s licence Jonathon had ticked the box which denoted he agreed to donate his organs in case of sudden death. The transplantation team were informed. His organs would be gratefully received by people on waiting lists all over England, until then his body would be carefully monitored. But first the co-ordinators needed to prioritise the recipients. Those on the top of the lists, considered first, after ascertaining they were a match. Patrick’s name appeared as the most urgent and by a stroke of good luck—or fate—he was in the same hospital—if the tissues matched the transplant could go ahead that same day.

🖤

Removing the still beating heart from Jonathon’s chest, the surgeon swiftly handed it to a waiting theatre nurse. In another theatre close by, Patrick, already attached to a heart/lung machine lay waiting to begin his new life.

         He woke to a sound he didn’t recognise—the sound of a heart beating, regular and strong in his body. Keeping his eyes closed he swallowed painfully and assessed his body which felt as if it had been taken apart and put back together again—like a patchwork quilt. He could almost taste the oxygenated blood, curtesy of the new heart he’d been given. At last, he dared to open his eyes—even colours appeared brighter, sounds clearer.
         A face swam before him and he focused in on Nurse Sarah.

         ’You were so lucky,’ she said as she gently lifted the curtain of hair from his eyes.

         Although she smiled at him, he felt there was something restrained about her and wondered if there was something she wasn’t telling him. Before he could ask her what was wrong, his new heart gave a sudden jolt—overwhelming pain caused him to grasp Sarah’s hand tightly.
         The last thing he remembered for the remainder of the day was her soothing voice before she gave him an injection for the pain.

🖤

Exceeding all expectations, Patrick, even in the early stage in his recovery, found he could walk further than he’d done for years, he laughed louder and easier, and even summoned the confidence to flirt with the nurses.
         At the hydrotherapy pool at the hospital one day, as he swam up and down the pool, he caught fragments of a conversation between the physiotherapist and another patient. Disinterested, he focused on his progress, counting the laps, until he heard someone mention Dr. Greene’s name.

         ‘What ever happened to Dr. Greene?’

         ‘Oh, poor Jonathon…when he died.’

         ‘He died? No…How on earth…?’

         ‘…accident.’

The voices faded as the they left the pool, leaving Patrick wondering how it had been possible he knew nothing of the surgeon’s death, before realising it must have happened whilst he’d been too sick to care about anything.


         Respected Cardiologist dies in climbing accident—when Patrick read those words on his laptop a gut feeling told him he was one of the “many lives saved” when the doctor’s organs were donated, but knew better than to ask. However, it cleared up the mystery of why Sarah seemed to avoid him whenever he bumped into her at his appointments—she knew Jonathon’s heart was beating in his chest.

🖤

As the months went by Patrick began to experience strange symptoms. His consultant brushed them off as normal reactions to such traumatic surgery. The nightmares were the thing which disturbed him most. He dreamed of cliffs, falling, a screeching hawk, attacking him as he lay on the ground. Women screaming, blood and always the bird, hovering above him as if ready to attack at any moment. Sometimes he could swear he had a double heartbeat, one beating harder and stronger as if it was trying to escape from his chest—at times like those, the long scar on his chest throbbed with pain.

🖤

It had been six months since the heart transplant. On one of his regular check-ups at the hospital he literally bumped in to Sarah.

         ‘Patrick!’ Sarah exclaimed. She gave him a questioning look—it was as if she was searching for someone else. ‘You look so different.’

         ‘Hi, Sarah, thanks,’ he smiled, ‘but I’m just me, as I was always meant to be.’

         She flinched when she saw that smile—one she’d seen so often, but on someone else’s lips. ‘So good to see you, Patrick. Take care.’ She left as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
         He watched her shapely form as she walked away, just as Jonathon used to.

🖤

The mist swirled around the young man as he climbed confidently, one handhold, one foot placement at a time. The same hawk hovering above him had borne witness to another man who’d fallen to his death at this very same spot exactly a year before.
         Patrick revelled in his new found physicality and strength as he reached the top of the climb and hauled himself over the edge. He lay on his back while he recovered from the climb watching in awe as the hawk circled lazily above him.
         He stood and looked down across the valley where the lights of the town flickered on as the sun lowered in the sky. He breathed deeply his breath fogging the air. He’d envied Jonathon once—his strengths, his body, his confidence, and easy way with women, but now he had it all.

         A few hundred yards away a lone hiker walked towards the town, her blonde hair catching the dying rays of the setting sun.
         The heart in his chest thudded as if in approval when he took the scalpel from his pocket.

         ‘Okay, Doc, let’s finish what you started.’

Written for the October 2025 What a Character, Official WdC Contest.
Prompt: Write about a character who falls prey to one of the Seven Deadly Sins (Greed, gluttony, sloth, wrath, lust, pride, envy)