A Moment of Decision

    He thought no one would hear him cry, if it was by the river.

    A gentle yet frail hand patted his back, and after what felt like months of tears and agony, he lifted his head. The roar of the river bombarding his senses still, he could not figure out who was there. A pull; and he was dragged quite a short ways away from the water. He took a moment to regain himself, before realizing the frail, old woman out of breath.

    “How.. did you..” a question, incomplete. That part of the woods was secluded, and it would take an amount of rock-climbing to get there. He faded his thoughts on this, however, deciding that it didn’t matter. Well, nothing mattered to him. The old lady, small and three-legged she was, turned towards the river and pushed herself to fall backwards, as if free-falling. It was decided that he caught her, and adjusted her to sitting position.

    “What is on your mind, young man?” she spoke softly and slowly, almost inaudible. To her, the question was more of a courtesy; she observed his gritting teeth, his wet eyes, his shaking hands, his choice of sanctuary so dangerously close to the edge. The lady knew that he was in pain - and he was looking to end it. To this polite ask a long silence followed, for he seemed to need time to trust her. Then, it was decided that he would answer in full.

    “I.. don’t know if I want to keep on living…”

    “Ah, what happened that makes you say such nonsense?” the lady responded, almost in amusement.

    “You old h-” A flash of anger replaced his tortured eyes for a moment, but he retreated, for it was decided that he would tell the story. He sighed, and promptly started to describe a beautiful young woman. A fighter and seeker of cheap thrills, yet supportive and considerate. He spoke of their wonderful time together, being in each other’s arms in private, and actively healing the sick in public. They had accomplished so much. She ended it so abruptly.

    “Nothing makes sense anymore. I don’t know how to live without her,” was recognized as the conclusion to his story.

    “Hmm,” the lady paused, pondering. After which she pointed at a tiny lake just a ways away from the river, and asked, “do you know what that is, young man?”

    “Uh, a lake,” he responded with little effort. When it was clear that it wasn’t a satisfactory answer, he racked his brain a little more, and then recalled, “It’s an Oxbow lake. What about it?”

    “Ah, clever. So you do know what it is,” she responded merrily, followed with a little chuckle. “So you see, for the longest time the river wants to flow straight; the fastest way towards his kin in the sea. Yet the earth, stoic and virtually immovable, did not give way. So the river swerved left, and right, and left, and right to get to the other side.”

    It was starting to sound like a nonsense story to him. He quickly tuned out.

    “Yet the river did not give up, and decided to go on. As long as it keeps flowing, eventually the odds are in its favor, and as the earth relented, a straight line was formed for it to reach the sea quicker.”

    He rolled his eyes. He could guess where this is going.

    “So you see, the question is not how to live. Keep living, and eventually odds will be in your favor. Take it from someone who has lived twice as long as you,” at that she laughed, content with the advice she had just given. It seemed it fell to deaf ears, however, as the young man stood up in frustration, and proceeded to walk away. She failed to change his mind, it seems, at least by means of dialogue.

    “Ah, I wanted to try that. Guess I’ll have to do it the hard way,” she smiled, still staring at the river. Then, it was decided that he would not take his life that day. He had such a potential after all - if anyone could cure her, it would be him.

    For someone who was content with her life, sometimes the irony could still set in and ruin her mood. Someone who had the literal power to decide, yet she could not prevent the passing of time to rob her of her joy. At least, not without someone else’s help. So by the river she remained, the weaver of fate, writer of the lives of countless others, yet to be free from the shackles of her own. She is determined to struggle, to keep fighting, and the young man was key.

    It was decided that her henchmen will start looking for her. Not long after, men in black suits showed up, and helped her walk back to the hospital. As long as she’s alive, she thought, the odds will continue to be in her favor.

    And she is determined to stay alive.