Revenge from the Heart

“Dr. Hoffman Mr. Grant is ready for his surgery,” the nurse hollered as they wheeled Zachary Grant into the open heart surgery room.
Dr. Hoffman entered the room as they were applying the anesthesia. As he passed out they began their work to remove the tumor in his heart. The room was hectic as they were cutting through his chest.
“Incisors please,” Dr. Hoffman asked as he poked through the skin tissue to reveal the heart. He was handed the sharp knife that he would make the one cut that would decide Mr. Grant’s fate, life or death. He cautiously moved back skin tissue until he revealed the tumor that had been killing Mr. Grant.


“Mommy is daddy going to be alright?” Jonathan the son of Mr. Grant whined as he wiped the tears of his face.
“I hope Johnny, I hope,” she said as a tear trickled down her fragile face.
Jonathans mom paced around the room as her son played with her
toy truck. She sat down and awaited the results of her husband’s survival.


Dr. Hoffman slowly cut off the tumor, the heart monitor beeping slowly behind him. The heart monitor beeped as the screen revealed a flat line. One of the nurses rushed out of the room to retrieve the defibrillators as the doctors started their own emergency measures.


“Ms. Grant please report to the surgery room A,” Dr. Hoffman barked
through the microphone. She and Jonathan rushed to the surgery room as they pushed through the doctors and nurses walking down the hall. Ms. Grant and her son walked into the room as the doctors crowded around Zachary’s pale dead body. They put both defibrillators onto Mr. Grant’s chest and shocked his dying heart with 10,000 volts of electricity. The heart monitor still revealed a flat line. Ms. Grant had tears down her face as she watched the doctor shock him over and over again without any response. The nurses left Dr. Hoffman and Ms. Grant alone.
Ms. Grant glared at Dr. Hoffman as Jonathan cried frantically. They left the room with tears pouring down their faces and left Dr. Hoffman to dry in his own failure.

Mrs. Grant sped home, her heart pounded furiously, as her son cried softly in the back. She reached home and trudged up her stairs and fell to her bed. She buried her face in the pillow as she sobbed. “Mommy,” Jonathan whimpered “is Daddy okay.”
“No Jonathan!” she shouted as she wiped the tears out of her eyes “Dads not coming back!”

Mrs. Grant and her son arrived at the funeral service as well as Dr. Hoffman. She gave him a harsh stare and sat down on the pew.
“Mrs. Grant could you please step up, we want you say a few words about your husband’s life,” the priest said as Isabella Grant walked up the steps to her husband’s coffin.
“Zachary was a loving, caring person he was always there for Jonathan and I heart tumor or not, but I guess,” her eyes filled with tears “I guess it was his time,” she glanced at Dr. Hoffman.


The pallbearers carried Zachary’s wooden coffin out to the hearse as Ms. Grant and Jonathan entered the glittering black limousine. Isabella got out of the limousine as the rest of Zachary’s friends and family arrived. The relatives of Zachary stood out in the rain listening to the priest’s sermon.
“On this sad day we have no answers to the question, Why could Zachary not be left to his family for longer?” the priest said as the rain poured down on the ground.


“Do not abandon the lord and the lord won’t abandon you,” were the priest’s last words about Zachary. His relatives left with watery eyes and soaked clothes. Ms. Grant stepped into the limousine as Zachary’s coffin was being buried five feet underground. The limousine sped off into the dark of the horizon.


Isabella approached her front doorstep as the rain battered her black umbrella. Jonathan slowly hobbled toward the door as his black suit was drenched in the heavy rain. She staggered up her steps and fell to her bed as Jonathan sat down next to her.
“Mommy,” Jonathan asked “where do people go when they die?”
“Well Johnny, hopefully Heaven but, no one really knows,” she responded. Jonathan walked up to bed as tears trickled down his cheek while Isabella laid on her bed.


Isabella woke up early that morning revenge still in her heart. She went to check on Jonathan, fast asleep. She crept down the stairs and sat down in her car. Then engine roared in her 1991 Honda Civic as she backed out of the driveway. She soared down the road with thought of Dr. Hoffman echoing in the back of her mind.


Isabella arrived at a large colonial house, the home of Dr. Hoffman. She knocked on the door.
“Oh, hello Ms. Grant, what are you doing here so early in the morning,” asked Cheryl the wife of Dr. Hoffman
“I just came to speak with your husband,” she said solemnly.
“Oh, well he’s still asleep but, do you want some coffee while I go fetch him for you.
“No thanks I just came to talk to your husband,” she said.
“Okay he’ll been down soon,” she said.
Isabella sat down at the Hoffman’s dining room when Dr. Hoffman entered the room.
“Hello Isabella,” he said. Isabella took out a glittering black nine millimeter pistol and brought it to his head.
“Isabella don’t shoot I tried my hardest to save your husband, it’s really not my fault,” he whimpered.
“Well, I guess that just wasn’t hard enough,” she pulled the trigger as the bullet spat out through Dr. Hoffman’s skull. She lifted the gun up to her own head and pulled the trigger, the bullet soared through her head and she fell to the ground as blood poured out of her head.