Monday, July 2, 2012

Ascension {An original short story}

Ascension

An original short story by Hypnosis

The chair he sat in was uncomfortable, one of those cheap wood and paper-thin cushioned hospital room chairs. A steady ?beeping? came from the heart monitor to his right, and, while it certainly was a welcome sound, its persistent monotony combined with a sore rear were quickly beginning to grate on his nerves. Jeremy didn?t like hospitals, like most people, and especially not at night; the situation called for him to be there, however, though his being so caused him a great deal of distress.

He looked over for what felt like the millionth time that night, checking to see if the comatose figure?s condition had changed at all. Part of him knew nothing had happened, but he still felt the need to watch over her, to protect her until she was better, and to will her a speedy recovery.

The girl was his sister, Liz, a fair-haired eleven year old whose blue eyes should not have been shut against the world for quite as long as they had been recently. The thought twisted inside the boy like a knife.

Jeremy himself was obviously of the same brood, flaxen-haired and watery-eyed, both in color and condition. Looking at him ? sitting there in his stylish blue jeans and plaid shirt ? you could never have guessed he had just nights before been in a car accident; he had an almost dry-cleaned look to him.

But, of course, however dapper he looked, the severity of the situation could not be forgotten or ignored. The events of the night stood out vividly in his mind, tormenting him with their clarity.

Liz had gone out that night with some of her friends ? out to the mall to do whatever it was young girls did there ? and Jeremy had been happily tasked with picking her up once she was finished; the two were very close, so the idea wasn?t such a bother as it might?ve been to other siblings. There wasn?t much for him to do around the house, so he decided to leave, taking a long, meandering drive through the city.

He watched the other drivers intently; Jeremy lived in a moderately-sized town filled with reckless drivers, all possessing a Nascar mentality and little casual driving skill. It had always been a pet-peeve of his, ever since he began driving. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long sigh.

Once he opened them, however, the boy floored his brakes, stopping his car before it could smash into the rear end of a dark green Ford Focus. The irony was lost on him in the exhilaration of the moment.

His breathing quickened, and, as he struggled to calm his pounding heart, he was startled again by the sudden polyphonic sound of his phone ringing.

?Hello?? He rasped into the receiver.

?Germy, it?s Liz! I?m finished up here, if you want to come get me!?

The tinkling sound of his sister?s voice calmed him in a strange way, slowing his racing heart and calming uprorious thoughts.

?I?ll be there to get you soon,? He promised.

?Seat-belts!? She reminded him, knowing they were his particular vehicular vice, ?I?m not gonna let you get yourself hurt for no reason!?

From his random wherever he was, it took Jeremy only a few minutes to reach the city?s major mall. Once there, it didn?t take long for him to spot the bright, yellow-haired youth standing at the curb. He pulled up next to the little Starbuck?s coffee shop adjoinging the main building, and watched as the girl ran around to the passenger side and got in.

?Hey, Germ!? She said, throwing her arms around his neck, ?How has your day been??

?So very exciting,? He replied hugging her in return, his voice dripping with sarcasm, ?I drove around all day ? visited all sorts of exotic familiar places ? until my journey was cut short by one little blonde girl in need of a taxi!?

Liz?s countenance took on a stony cast, the girl?s mental walls coming up to defend her from an assumed attack.

?Maybe if you actually did something with yourself instead of being a nineteen year old bum...? She began, but never finished.

?I am doing something with myself,? Jeremy cried in mock defense, ?I?m chauffeuring around my little blonde miss!? He emphasized the joke with a little bow of his head.

?You?re such a dork, Germy,? She told him, settling into her seat.

The pair left the mall?s parking lot, speeding off towards home. As they drove, Liz droned on and on about how much fun she had had with her girlfriends, and how much make-up and clothes they had looked at, and how many cute boys had been there, and yada, and yada, and so forth.

Eventually, on the way up the ramp leading onto the local freeway, Jeremy looked at her and made to tell her to take a breath, but he never got the opportunity.

Another car, already traveling on the freeway, had refused the normal procedure of yielding to oncoming vehicles, instead continuing onward pushing seventy-five miles per hour. Jeremy had but a moment?s time to throw his body over his sister?s, in an attempt to shield her, before the oncomer struck their car.

There was a distinctive screeching of metal as it bent, a distinctive and heartbreakingly short screech from the little girl beneath him, and a distinctive darkness that accompanied it all.

Jeremy didn?t remember much between the incident and his being in the hospital room with his sister. There had been much crying - his mother and his father and all the other members of his family that had come to check on them - though Jeremy saw it all as if in a fog. Everything felt foggy.

The heart monitor?s rhythmic monotony distracted him, and he wanted nothing more than to break it, though he knew what the sound embodied.

Liz lay, silent and pale as death; Jeremy sat, feeling never more alive than he did now. This was his mistake, his fault, his responsibility; never before had such a burden been placed upon his shoulders than now.

He knew he had to wait for her to wake up. What kind of person wouldn?t wait? But the sitting in the hard chair and the incessant beeping of machines made him want to tear his hair out. The sight of his little sister, so vibrant once, yet gray as the grave now, made him want to tear his eyes out.

He had not come to be with her until that night; the pain she evoked in him was much too much for him to bear until then. But now he wanted to run, wanted to go somewhere and hide from her.

Her eyes burned, try as her closed lids might to distinguish them, burned hot and branded him a failure. And if they weren?t hot, then they were ice, cold and angry, chilling him to the bone with frigid accusations.

She is a ghost, he speculated, come to haunt me for not saving her. The boy shook the idea from his mind. If she were a ghost, she would have to be dead, and she was not.

Jeremy silently wished he were dead. If he were dead, he imagined he wouldn?t be tormented so.

For a while, he just sat and watched her, her chest slowly rising and falling with her breathing, though that was the only movement he could discern. Apart from that, she lay rigid, tense like was expecting another accident.

The boy exhaled loudly, casting his eyes downward in defeat.

After a few moments, he scooted the hard chair closer to her bed, though the close proximity shortly began to make him uncomfortable. But it wasn?t about him, he decided; it was about the little blonde girl and the huge debt he owed her for placing her in the situation she now was in.

In all the T.V. shows he had watched, in all the movies and the stories, Jeremy had noticed people always seemed to talk to those who were in a coma. He never was one to believe all the things he watched or read, but he figured there was no harm in trying. He needed hope now, more than ever, and so he spoke.

?I don?t exactly know if there?s any special way I?m supposed to do this,? He began, a little awkwardly, ?But I guess I?ll just wing it.?

?Do you remember the time you got into mom?s nail polish and started painting ?pretty pictures? all over the walls?? He asked, smiling at the memory, ?You had to have been three or so. I guess you wouldn?t remember it, though, huh, if you were that little.?

He tried again.

?Or what about that time, when you first started playing soccer for that league, when you worked so hard to bring that ball all the way up the field, and then you scored your first goal and were so proud of yourself, only to find out it was on your own team!? Jeremy laughed at this point, a short, prompt laugh, a hollow laugh with little real mirth.

The attempt at communication brought him little comfort. In fact, it only helped to emphasize the one-sidedness of the conversation.

?I?m really sorry, Liz,? He said at length, eyes welling with tears again, ?I?m sorry I couldn?t save you. That?s all I wanted to do. I wanted to be a good big brother and protect you, like mom and dad always told me.?

The tears ran freely and fell from his face, raining onto the cold linoleum floor. In the darkness of the room, he couldn?t see them fall, but every drip dropped into a puddle on the ground, splashing loudly each time, echoing about the nearly-silent room.

?I did what I could,? He told her pleadingly, as if to convince her of his effort, ?I covered you up; I threw myself over you! I realize I?m no car, but it?s like it was all for nothing!?

He wiped at his face, scrubbed at his eyes, attempting to clear away both the tears and the shame.

?Dammit, Liz - no kid is supposed to go through this!?

Nothing he said could wake her up, and nothing he did now could change what was done.

The sun had begun to rise by this time, signaling Jeremy it was time for him to leave; he had stayed too long and needed rest. As he stretched his weary legs, he made one final bend to kiss her forehead.

?Wake up sometime soon, Kiddo,? He commanded, then made his way out blindly, tears obstructing his vision once again.

Liz awoke the very same morning, greeted by overjoyed family members who all rushed to hug her at the same time; she felt like she would drown in all the happy tears and exaltations of relief.

Among the many faces, however, she could not see her brother. She glanced around desperately, searching for the only familiar face she wanted to see.

?Mom,? She cried, her voice betraying a deep concern, ?Where?s Jeremy, Mom? He was just here!?

Her mother looked astounded, the tears redoubling their effort to traverse her face and reach the ground.

?Liz, I -,?

?He told me to wake up, and he isn?t even here yet to see me?? She began to cry herself, utter disappointment filling her.

?Liz, baby,? Her mother said sadly and soothingly at once, though which of them she was trying to soothe none could tell, ?Your brother didn?t make it through the wreck.?

At first, Liz didn?t understand what she was being told, but, as reality dawned on her, she let out a most heart-wrenchingly pitiful wail of despair.

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/S1K9Z0v9FsI/viewtopic.php

cspan state of the union drinking game oscar noms capital gains tim thomas oral roberts les paul

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.