"In The Dark" Contest

Penname: freakybella

Title: In a Moment of Weakness

Summary: In a moment of weakness Dr. Edward Cullen is forced to do the unthinkable to save his sister from an illness that will kill her unless she receives a transplant. Rated M for language, dark themes, and future lemons.

Word Count
: 2,236

Disclaimer: Stephenie Myers owns Twilight and all of the characters. I am just playing around.

In a Moment of Weakness


When I was growing up, I knew exactly the direction I wanted my life to go. My father was a thoracic surgeon and listening to him describing the procedures he performed was absolutely amazing to me. Without a doubt I knew that medicine would be my choice of profession.

The human body is fascinating to me and learning how you could successfully treat and help patients to make them healthy again was something that enthralled me to no end.

Once I made my decision, there was no turning back for me. My body would hum with excitement every time I would learn something new in class. Then when we were actually allowed to work on cadavers and get our hands dirty so to speak, I was ecstatic. Yea that sounds sick, but to me, that was some cool ass shit.

Throughout medical school, I couldn't get enough. I was like a sponge absorbing everything that I could. The classes were grueling and I had to spend many long hours studying, but I just couldn't get enough.

But as all good things must come to an end, so did my excitement over medicine. One thing changed all my feelings of enthusiasm towards medicine, and that was it, I no longer wanted to be involved in healing people when one of the most important persons in my life could not be healed no matter what I did.

Even though my spirits were dampened and my excitement over medicine waned, I still staid my course completing medical school then becoming an intern. In the back of my mind I hoped that by finishing what I had started and staying in the medical field I would gain the knowledge to be able to help one of the most important people in my life.

After completing my internship, I decided that surgical medicine interested me the most. Emergency surgery would be my specialty. In the time that I spent working with the attending doctors being trained, I never would have believed that I would be using my training to do what I am doing right now at this moment.

This was not how I intended my life to be. Not here, not doing this, not participating in something that makes my whole body repulsed from the task I have before me.

But here I am, and the only thought that keeps me going is, this is the last time I am doing this.

I keep repeating that same statement over and over to myself, that this is the last time. I have to believe this is the last time, because if I don't try and convince myself, I am going to go insane. Insanity I would welcome at this point. The thought of completely losing my mind would mean that the past few years of my life would be erased from my mind.

It would be so easy if I could forget. Sometimes in life when you make a choice, the end result doesn't always justify the means. My choice has led me to ruining the life I once cherished. A life that meant more to me than anything else, a life that I loved.

Over and over I think of what would have happened if I hadn't chosen to do this. Either way my life would have been turned upside down. If I hadn't agreed to do this heinous act, then my sister would be dead by now.

Now that I am here, I have to finish what I have started. There is no turning back now. No matter how much I want to just run and hide, and never look anyone in the eye again for fear that they now of the crimes I have committed, I can't. If I don't do this, they will find me and make me fulfill my obligation to them, or worse keep doing it.

Grabbing my surgical hat, I place it over my hair. Then I cover my face with the surgical mask tying it in place. Stepping over to the sink, I wash my hands and arms with Betadine solution to remove all the germs, taking a hand brush using extra care to scrub my hands. After drying my hands, I pull the rubber gloves on each hand as I continue to prepare for surgery. Finally I put my surgical gown on and walk over to where the patient is prepped for me to begin.

This is the last time I am fucking doing this.

How many times have I said this? I know I have said it over and over again, desperately trying to push all of my actions out of my overworked brain, but it changes nothing in the grand scheme of things. No matter how many times I have said it, it never changes. I am still here doing exactly what I claim I will never do again. But it is too late for me, I have no other option.

This is the last time I am doing this.

My eyes wander around the room making sure that everything is ready for me to begin. Looking behind the curtain that separates the patient from operation, I see that the IV is in place supplying the propofol to keep the patient sedated while I perform surgery. An oxygen mask is placed over the patient's face to provide the extra oxygen that is needed during the procedure. To my side, scalpels, hemostats, clamps and other instruments that I need are arranged on a try within easy access for me to begin. A surgical drape covers the patient with an opening exactly where I need to make the incision already scrubbed with Betadine to cleanse the area. I just have to bring myself to start.

No matter how much I don't want to be here at this moment, I have a job to do. I made a decision to do this. This was not a decision made lightly, only deciding to go through with this in order to help someone I love.

And look where it has gotten me. Yes, I saved my sisters life, but I ruined my own in the process. No longer am I the carefree happy guy I used to be. No longer am I able to enjoy my life with my family. Guilt constantly riddles me making me feel unworthy. Even though my sister is alive because of me, I can show no happiness. If anything I feel regret. Not because of her, but because of myself.

Don't get me wrong, I am beyond happy that she is alive. I love my sister with all my heart. There are not enough words in the English language to say that I am delighted that she is alive. Ecstatic. Delighted. Thrilled. But in the process of saving her life, I killed my own. And my soul along with it.

My body is wracked with guilt. My heart goes out to these people that I have to do this to. My head pounds with the knowledge of the unthinkable deeds I have performed. My soul feels as if the devil has taken it before my life is over. I am a broken man.

My life was once the life that other people dreamed of. I had a loving family. We were closer than the normal families that you here about. The closeness that I felt for my brother and especially my sister was something that I thought could never be broken. I once prided myself on how important my family was to me.

Not being the typical teenager who was out all the time partying away, my time as I was growing up was spent with my family. I loved spending time with them more than anything else. My father and I shared a kindred spirit over medicine. My mother and I had a bond that would never seem to be broken and my brother was not only my brother, but my best friend as well.

And then there is my twin sister. As we were growing up, I would do anything for her that she asked. When we were children I would play with her not caring if it was with dolls or an elaborate tea party. We shared a connection that was stronger than most siblings had because we were twins.

As far as school was concerned, in high school, I was at the top of my class. I loved to study and do the best that I could. When I started college, I was content to spend all my time learning and absorbing every detail that I could. And when I started medical school, it was my dream come true.

Then out of no where, the worst possible thing that could happen, happened. The life as I knew it was shattered. The one thing that meant most to me in this world was starting to crack under the pressure of something that none of us could control.

My mind and my life for that matter is a garbled mess and I can do nothing at this moment to change that. Looking down at the body that is lying beneath me ready for me to begin surgery I cannot focus. My nerves are frazzled and I cannot stop, but I have to do this. With the scalpel in my hand, I look at the location where I am to start the incision and my hand starts to shake.

This is the last time I am doing this.

Maybe if I concentrate on this statement I can believe that it will actually come true. Stilling myself for a moment I try to get control. My shaking hand slowly calms as I will myself to calm down so that I can get through this.

Taking deep calming breaths my hand stills and my body relaxes. Clearing my brain of my rant that is proving to only raise my anxiety level more, my mind becomes clear and the bile that has risen to my throat making me nauseous slowly subsides. No way can a surgeon operate with an unsteady hand.

As I continue to inhale the much needed deep cleansing breaths and release them slowly, my mind clears and my hand stops shaking. I grip the scalpel and cut into the warm soft tissue on the body lying beneath me. There is no stopping now, I have to finish this. I am just one step closer to being free of this obligation that has almost broken me.

Focusing on the body below me, I wonder, is this someone's son, someone's brother, someone's husband. What will that significant other think once they found out what has happened? Would they understand? The ultimate sacrifice to help another life as a vital organ is removed so that another person can survive.

Slowly I continue to make the incision. Suction begins so that the blood can be cleared out of the way so that it will not cloud my vision so I can continue the procedure. With precision I cut out the kidney and turn and place it in the organ chamber kit. The kit will supply life sustaining oxygen and nutrients until the organ can reach the intended patient.

Finishing the procedure I close the opening with minimal but efficient sutures. The procedure is simple, of all the organ transplant surgeries, kidneys are the easiest to remove due to minimal evasiveness. Vitals are checked once more. Death is not an option when this is a straightforward operation. Taking a perfectly healthy person and removing an organ unnecessarily is bad enough, I will not let their life end as well.

Removing the gloves that are bloodied from the surgery, I toss them into the trash. I drag my surgical mask from my face, taking another deep breath inhaling what should be clean sterilized air. But the air is not clean. The air is stale and it only makes the nausea increase.

Pulling my surgery gown from my sweaty body, I shudder involuntarily as the cool air hits my wet sticky body. Disposing all of the items in the trash, I am relieved to know that someone will come in to clean up behind me. My job is done.

Checking the organ chamber to insure that the temperature is stable, I make sure the locks are in place and the fluid level is appropriate. Once again I walk over and check the vital signs on the man. His breathing is regular, his heartbeat is stable, and his color is returning. The effects of the anesthesia are slowly wearing off cuing my exit.

Grabbing the organ chamber kit and my medical bag I head for the door looking around the room one more time to make sure that I have not forgotten anything. Again my mind races with the thoughts, this is the last time.

Just one more time and I will never have to do this again.

Opening the door slowly, I glance from left to right to make sure that no one will hinder my escape. The last thing I need is to be detained. I want nothing more than to remove myself from this room and forget for a while what I have just done.

Checking once more to make sure that no one will see me, I walk out of the door letting the soft click of the hotel door lock behind me.


A/N: Can you guess what is going on? Send me a message if you want more information. This story came to me one morning out of the blue then there was a complete profile on CNN. I am not a doctor or in the medical profession, so I am winging it on the medical part. What I know about medicine came from Grey's Anatomy, CNN, and the internet. It's just fiction people.

I have an outline for a full story if anyone is interested in collaborating with me or being a beta. Thank you for reading, please review and let me know what you think.