Brompton Cocktail (Story)

The following is a story based off the song "Brompton Cocktail" by Avenged Sevenfold from their self-titled album.

Explanation
The story is based off the song Brompton Cocktail which is one of my favorite songs in their self-titled album, and one of my favorite songs in general. The song was written by Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan, and is about a man who is sick and goes to the hospital to get an overdose of drugs so he won't have to suffer. The man's name is Jimmy as a dedication to the amazing musician who wrote the song that inspired the story, as well as a tribute to his lasting memory.

Project: Brompton Cocktail
“Jimmy,” Doctor Tomaszewski said, shaking the man’s hand as he entered the room. James was in the hospital because he was sick. He was told that he had an extremely rare heart disease making him someone who wasn’t long for this world. “Doc,” Jimmy said seriously. Usually, Dr. T was the one who made him laugh and smile, but not today. “I’m dying,” he said. “I don’t want to go on.”

Dr. T nodded. “Have you talked to your family about this?” He asked.

“I have,” Jimmy lied. He only told them he was considering it, but the idea was quickly shot down. His girlfriend was nearly hysterical, and his parents spent an hour telling him how much he had to live for.

“Well, there are a lot of ways we can do this,” Dr. T said. “How do you want to go out?”

“I read that you can make a cocktail that would make it painless. I don’t want my family to know I died in pain,” Jimmy replied, nodding in certainty.

“Alright,” Dr. T said. “We’ll get to work now and we’ll be ready by tomorrow. I suggest you spend your last moments saying your good byes to your friends and family.”

“Actually,” Jimmy said as the doctor opened the door to leave. “Could I just get some paper and a pen?” Dr. T nodded and left the room. He couldn’t bear to see the faces of his family if he told them what he was going to do. Besides, writing was what he was best at. He had plans to go on and write a novel before he found out he didn’t have long to live.

“Ready Jimmy?” Dr. T asked the next day. Unlike the previous day, he was dressed in the standard hospital gown and lying on a bed. His bare arms were covered in tattoos and a long tube stuck out of his arm.

“I am,” he said. Since he had been diagnosed, he had grown comfortable with the idea of death.

“And there’s no way I can convince you to not go through with this?” The doctor asked.

“I’m certain about this doctor,” Jimmy said.

“Well sir,” Dr. T said, holding out his hand. “It was good knowing you.” Jimmy shook the hand.

“Doc,” Jimmy said. “Could you do me one more thing?”

“What is it?”

“I want you to write down my last words, and read them to my family and friends,” Jimmy told him. The doctor looked at Jimmy for a moment then nodded. He left the room and returned with his clipboard and a nurse. He took a seat next to his friend and flipped to a blank sheet of paper, pulling out a standard ballpoint pen. The nurse made her way over to the IV and took a syringe from the table next to the bed and inserted in into the tube, making sure the contents were in the tube before pulling it out and leaving the two men in the room alone, closing the door.

Jimmy felt a sensation in his arm as the cocktail entered his system. “To my family and friends,” he started. “I am dying. I was diagnosed with a rare heart disease when I was twenty and have been living with the knowledge that I am going to die ever since.”

He heard scribbling next to him as the doctor wrote down his words on the paper. The sensation had spread to his finger tips and up his arms. He tried to move a finger, but he found out that he couldn’t.

“I want you all to know that I care about you all and I love you,” he continued. “I’m not going to bother struggling on in a world so cold. In a world so wrong. I’m not running away, it’s just that I’ve been fighting this for so long.”

The sensation had spread quickly throughout his body, and he could feel it creeping into his face. Unlike the sensation he felt in his arms, this time it actually tickled. He couldn’t help but grin.

“I take my life tonight, because I have the right to die how I want to,” he said. He couldn’t feel his mouth move or even feel his face. He felt incredibly tired now, as if all he wanted to do was close his eyes and take a nap. The sound of the scribbling became distant.

“Such a price that we pay, we’ve all got to be so strong,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He inhaled sharply, knowing that he wasn’t going to be long. “I leave how I arrived.”

He breathed out one final time, his words hanging in the air. Weightless. “So alive.”