Death- A Lovely Tale- The Novel
"It's a beautiful day, here in Rhollard, New York!" The weather man said on News Channel 5. I completely agreed. Sunny skies, bright clouds; what couldn't make this day any better?
I was on my way to good ol' Brian's house. He and I had been friends since we were 3, and my mom and dad were friends with Brian's parents. I would go over his house and play games with him and his brother and sister, like Monopoly or Hide n' Go Seek. Brian would give me noogies, and I'd give him wedgies or vice versa; all for fun, something we had everywhere. Every day passed like a living dream, and I always thought that every day was better than before. My parents and I were going over to his house to celebrate Easter, since we invited them last year.
I thought that this day would be better than the rest. Our families would play our yearly traditional game of hunting eggs, and then we'd eat hot dogs and hamburgers! Mmm! The hamburgers! I could imagine it now: a seasoned sesame bun under some tasty lettuce, which only helped to bring out the flavor of the roasted meat in the center. It would be layered under sliced tomato, cheese, and onions, finished with the same delicious sesame bun on top. The perfect hamburger. The best fact was, you could layer anything onto the hamburger; mustard, maiyonaise, ketchup, etc., and it'd still taste great! We'd continue playing games into the night, and when the day was over, we'd all thank each other for giving each other such a great time.
In those days, I really believed that these days would go on.
That was when Brian and I were 9.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
During that Easter, Brian had an accident. It started off as him having a hard time breathing, and his stomach hurting. He then threw up, and fainted. We immediately sent Brian to the hospital, and he's been there since then. They diagnosed him, but couldn't help him. Doctors called it "a disease that would make him feel bad". They sent him to a ward for "patients who don't last as long as normal". Those were just words that were trying to be gentle, but failed in their effort. Let me fill in those quotes with the real words. "onset hereditary cancer" and "patients who will die". Those were the real words. The words that hurt.
I visited Brian a lot, and he wasn't contagious. I saw his parents and siblings. We greeted each other, and I would wait until they were done talking and caring for Brian. I would say good- bye, and start talking to him.
What I did at the hospital was talk. We kept talking. We talked about anything; the old days, recent times, the news. At times, when Brian went to sleep, I woke him up to keep talking. I talked until I couldn't talk anymore, because I'm afraid that when Brian dies, I won't be able to. I think I stayed in the hospital longer than I stayed in school. We talked late into the night, and it would be really dark when I got home.
He's gotten worse, after so long. He gets worse and worse every year. The nurses and doctors try the best they can, but even they believed his fate is grim. But....he tried to be happy. For his family and friends. He tried to stay strong.
We've gone 2 years like this. 2 long, harsh years. It was almost 3 years, and it was the New Year's Eve.
If there really is a god out there, please: Let my friend live.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even he lost hope. Brian, who had stayed strong for 2 years, had lost hope. I wouldn't have blamed him. Watching him in so much pain like that hurt. And I'm sure it hurt more being the person in pain.
His face becomes paler with every passing day.
The thought that those blissful days would keep going were gone. All I thought was how I could try to keep my best friend, even though I knew he was already starting to go away.
It was almost Easter.
---------------------------------------------
It was Easter Day, and Brian's life was finally coming to a close. His heart beat had finally started to waver. After all these years. It began to slow down, at a fast pace. The doctors noticed it half- way, and told us to say our good- byes.
I was outraged. My friend- my closest friend- was about to lose a battle he'd been fighting for 3 years. I yelled at him, telling him to stay strong. To live. When he said he couldn't, I left the room. I was so frustrated. So frustrated at him for dying, and so frustrated that I yelled at him in his final moments. I was yelling at myself, when I noticed someone go in. I don't know who, but he was wearing black clothing. I forgot about him and continued to beat myself up.
When I came back in, Brian's heart almost stopped functioning. His heart couldn't take anymore stress, and it slowed to the point where it was about to stop. But the weird thing was, I saw the black clothed man again, this time more definitely. He wore a robe, and a mask. He had a weapon- a blade of some sort. I started to scream. "What was going on? Is he going to kill us?" These were the sort of questions I asked myself in a rash manner. The man saw me scream, but looked back at Brian. Everyone started to try to calm me down, but I kept screaming. I saw the man slash through Brian, and screamed even louder. Everyone had their eyes on me, but the man. I saw him walk away, something in his hand. I just kept screaming as I watched. I couldn't stop.
By the time I regained my composure, Brian was dead. His heart stopped. It just couldn't take any more pressure. It's possible I could've hastened his death, and I blamed myself for that. I couldn't apologize to him for yelling because I overreacted., and I also caused his death.
I cried. That was all I could do.
I found out later that no one ever saw the man. I doubted myself. Was I hallucinating? I didn't know. I didn't really care anymore.
Exactly 3 years after he was sick, Brian died.
--------------------------------------------
I would spend the next couple of weeks after Brian's death continously running back to the hospital. They always asked, "Why are you here?"
I replied, "I'm here to see Brian." They would tell me that Brian is dead, and I would be escorted out of the hospital without a word. I guess going to the hospital was just my own way of dealing with his death.
I spent the remaining weeks and months of the school year with silence. People tried to console me, but I did nothing. I said nothing. I just walked away.
When I got home, I went to bed. If I couldn't sleep, I just sat there on the bed. My parents were worried, and they tried to talk to me. But I said nothing. I just went back to bed.
This carried on until the end of the next school year.
I was 12. I didn't know any better.
I didn't speak for a long time. I didn't want to speak for a long time.
But that event changed everything about my life.
Author's Notes:
This is the FINAL version of Death. I will continue the update the fanfic, but I'll also update this too.
I had this song playing most of the time while I was writing the story.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ADo4PiAS0ck&feature=related
"It's a beautiful day, here in Rhollard, New York!" The weather man said on News Channel 5. I completely agreed. Sunny skies, bright clouds; what couldn't make this day any better?
I was on my way to good ol' Brian's house. He and I had been friends since we were 3, and my mom and dad were friends with Brian's parents. I would go over his house and play games with him and his brother and sister, like Monopoly or Hide n' Go Seek. Brian would give me noogies, and I'd give him wedgies or vice versa; all for fun, something we had everywhere. Every day passed like a living dream, and I always thought that every day was better than before. My parents and I were going over to his house to celebrate Easter, since we invited them last year.
I thought that this day would be better than the rest. Our families would play our yearly traditional game of hunting eggs, and then we'd eat hot dogs and hamburgers! Mmm! The hamburgers! I could imagine it now: a seasoned sesame bun under some tasty lettuce, which only helped to bring out the flavor of the roasted meat in the center. It would be layered under sliced tomato, cheese, and onions, finished with the same delicious sesame bun on top. The perfect hamburger. The best fact was, you could layer anything onto the hamburger; mustard, maiyonaise, ketchup, etc., and it'd still taste great! We'd continue playing games into the night, and when the day was over, we'd all thank each other for giving each other such a great time.
In those days, I really believed that these days would go on.
That was when Brian and I were 9.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
During that Easter, Brian had an accident. It started off as him having a hard time breathing, and his stomach hurting. He then threw up, and fainted. We immediately sent Brian to the hospital, and he's been there since then. They diagnosed him, but couldn't help him. Doctors called it "a disease that would make him feel bad". They sent him to a ward for "patients who don't last as long as normal". Those were just words that were trying to be gentle, but failed in their effort. Let me fill in those quotes with the real words. "onset hereditary cancer" and "patients who will die". Those were the real words. The words that hurt.
I visited Brian a lot, and he wasn't contagious. I saw his parents and siblings. We greeted each other, and I would wait until they were done talking and caring for Brian. I would say good- bye, and start talking to him.
What I did at the hospital was talk. We kept talking. We talked about anything; the old days, recent times, the news. At times, when Brian went to sleep, I woke him up to keep talking. I talked until I couldn't talk anymore, because I'm afraid that when Brian dies, I won't be able to. I think I stayed in the hospital longer than I stayed in school. We talked late into the night, and it would be really dark when I got home.
He's gotten worse, after so long. He gets worse and worse every year. The nurses and doctors try the best they can, but even they believed his fate is grim. But....he tried to be happy. For his family and friends. He tried to stay strong.
We've gone 2 years like this. 2 long, harsh years. It was almost 3 years, and it was the New Year's Eve.
If there really is a god out there, please: Let my friend live.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even he lost hope. Brian, who had stayed strong for 2 years, had lost hope. I wouldn't have blamed him. Watching him in so much pain like that hurt. And I'm sure it hurt more being the person in pain.
His face becomes paler with every passing day.
The thought that those blissful days would keep going were gone. All I thought was how I could try to keep my best friend, even though I knew he was already starting to go away.
It was almost Easter.
---------------------------------------------
It was Easter Day, and Brian's life was finally coming to a close. His heart beat had finally started to waver. After all these years. It began to slow down, at a fast pace. The doctors noticed it half- way, and told us to say our good- byes.
I was outraged. My friend- my closest friend- was about to lose a battle he'd been fighting for 3 years. I yelled at him, telling him to stay strong. To live. When he said he couldn't, I left the room. I was so frustrated. So frustrated at him for dying, and so frustrated that I yelled at him in his final moments. I was yelling at myself, when I noticed someone go in. I don't know who, but he was wearing black clothing. I forgot about him and continued to beat myself up.
When I came back in, Brian's heart almost stopped functioning. His heart couldn't take anymore stress, and it slowed to the point where it was about to stop. But the weird thing was, I saw the black clothed man again, this time more definitely. He wore a robe, and a mask. He had a weapon- a blade of some sort. I started to scream. "What was going on? Is he going to kill us?" These were the sort of questions I asked myself in a rash manner. The man saw me scream, but looked back at Brian. Everyone started to try to calm me down, but I kept screaming. I saw the man slash through Brian, and screamed even louder. Everyone had their eyes on me, but the man. I saw him walk away, something in his hand. I just kept screaming as I watched. I couldn't stop.
By the time I regained my composure, Brian was dead. His heart stopped. It just couldn't take any more pressure. It's possible I could've hastened his death, and I blamed myself for that. I couldn't apologize to him for yelling because I overreacted., and I also caused his death.
I cried. That was all I could do.
I found out later that no one ever saw the man. I doubted myself. Was I hallucinating? I didn't know. I didn't really care anymore.
Exactly 3 years after he was sick, Brian died.
--------------------------------------------
I would spend the next couple of weeks after Brian's death continously running back to the hospital. They always asked, "Why are you here?"
I replied, "I'm here to see Brian." They would tell me that Brian is dead, and I would be escorted out of the hospital without a word. I guess going to the hospital was just my own way of dealing with his death.
I spent the remaining weeks and months of the school year with silence. People tried to console me, but I did nothing. I said nothing. I just walked away.
When I got home, I went to bed. If I couldn't sleep, I just sat there on the bed. My parents were worried, and they tried to talk to me. But I said nothing. I just went back to bed.
This carried on until the end of the next school year.
I was 12. I didn't know any better.
I didn't speak for a long time. I didn't want to speak for a long time.
But that event changed everything about my life.
Author's Notes:
This is the FINAL version of Death. I will continue the update the fanfic, but I'll also update this too.
I had this song playing most of the time while I was writing the story.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ADo4PiAS0ck&feature=related
