~Flippy
11-05-2008, 04:04 AM
This is an original short story I wrote in between classes. It is 'sad' because I was depressed and needed a way to put it on paper. I felt great afterward :)
When I say short, I mean really short...it should not take longer than 5 minutes to read. Again, I didn't have much time to make it longer, and I didn't intend for it to be much longer.
Let me know what you think :)
Grown Men Cry
Ryouji Hirokura
(Jay L.)
There was a young boy named James- only 8 years old, he had fought with pancreatic cancer since he was 6. His mother, in giving birth to him, died from complications that arose in the process. The doctors attempted to convince her to abort the baby so that she would survive, but with every breath of air left in her, she demanded they save the baby in exchange for her life. They followed through, and feeling her eyes grow heavier, the only thing she had strength enough to say was, “He’s beautiful…James. Yes, that’s his name. James,” as she watched her baby being handled by the doctors. When her husband came in, hearing of the news, he could only see her motionless body lying there. Attempting to hold back tears, he held her hand, wishing she would come back to life.
When he could not feel a pulse, he realized the harsh reality of what had happened. He fell onto his knees and cried. Not once, however, did he blame God, the doctors, or modern technology. He merely loved his wife, and seeing her dead released emotions bottled up for years. Grown men cry, too.
The man loved James, as he raised him his whole life as a single father. He taught the child manners, faith, and to live in optimism no matter what. This yielded a happy son, who never once feared his cancer or thought of death, for that matter. Until he was forced to remain in bed at the hospital, he went to school and played with other kids, helped teachers clean up their classrooms every day, and came home to do his homework with his father. The man, keeping him and his son’s hopes up throughout chemo therapy, felt completely robbed and hurt when one of the doctors delivered the news to him that his son only had 5 months to live.
When it came to the last day of James’s life, he was in terrible condition. Hardly able to hold his head up, he smiled at his father, who was fighting hard to hold back tears and had his own trouble returning the smile. In his last 10 minutes, he shared conversation with his father.
“Daddy, what’s going to happen to me?”
Biting his lower lip, the man responded, “Nothing is going to happen…”
Despite him being naive, James knew something was wrong.
“Daddy, am I going to see God today?”
A tear rolled down his father’s face. “Is that who you want to see?”
“I don’t know. Will there be angels there?”
“Yes, James.”
“Will you see God, too?”
“I don’t know.”
James’s eyes were growing very heavy, and his heartbeat was growing slower.
“Daddy…”
Another tear rolled down the man’s face as James used the last ounce of strength he had to hold out his hand. His father held his finger out, which James held softly.
“I love you, daddy.”
The man’s eyes were soaking with tears, and his lips were trembling. However, it made any effort he possibly could to keep from breaking down.
“You have no idea how much I love you.”
James closed his eyes.
“I will say hi to mommy for you.”
“…sounds good, son.”
As James’s hand let go of his father’s finger, his heart beat its last beat, and his head fell deeper into the pillow.
As an image of himself, James, and his deceased wife as a family came to mind, he lifted his son’s lifeless body and held it to his torso, crying in the same manner as he had when his wife died.
Grown men cry, too.
When I say short, I mean really short...it should not take longer than 5 minutes to read. Again, I didn't have much time to make it longer, and I didn't intend for it to be much longer.
Let me know what you think :)
Grown Men Cry
Ryouji Hirokura
(Jay L.)
There was a young boy named James- only 8 years old, he had fought with pancreatic cancer since he was 6. His mother, in giving birth to him, died from complications that arose in the process. The doctors attempted to convince her to abort the baby so that she would survive, but with every breath of air left in her, she demanded they save the baby in exchange for her life. They followed through, and feeling her eyes grow heavier, the only thing she had strength enough to say was, “He’s beautiful…James. Yes, that’s his name. James,” as she watched her baby being handled by the doctors. When her husband came in, hearing of the news, he could only see her motionless body lying there. Attempting to hold back tears, he held her hand, wishing she would come back to life.
When he could not feel a pulse, he realized the harsh reality of what had happened. He fell onto his knees and cried. Not once, however, did he blame God, the doctors, or modern technology. He merely loved his wife, and seeing her dead released emotions bottled up for years. Grown men cry, too.
The man loved James, as he raised him his whole life as a single father. He taught the child manners, faith, and to live in optimism no matter what. This yielded a happy son, who never once feared his cancer or thought of death, for that matter. Until he was forced to remain in bed at the hospital, he went to school and played with other kids, helped teachers clean up their classrooms every day, and came home to do his homework with his father. The man, keeping him and his son’s hopes up throughout chemo therapy, felt completely robbed and hurt when one of the doctors delivered the news to him that his son only had 5 months to live.
When it came to the last day of James’s life, he was in terrible condition. Hardly able to hold his head up, he smiled at his father, who was fighting hard to hold back tears and had his own trouble returning the smile. In his last 10 minutes, he shared conversation with his father.
“Daddy, what’s going to happen to me?”
Biting his lower lip, the man responded, “Nothing is going to happen…”
Despite him being naive, James knew something was wrong.
“Daddy, am I going to see God today?”
A tear rolled down his father’s face. “Is that who you want to see?”
“I don’t know. Will there be angels there?”
“Yes, James.”
“Will you see God, too?”
“I don’t know.”
James’s eyes were growing very heavy, and his heartbeat was growing slower.
“Daddy…”
Another tear rolled down the man’s face as James used the last ounce of strength he had to hold out his hand. His father held his finger out, which James held softly.
“I love you, daddy.”
The man’s eyes were soaking with tears, and his lips were trembling. However, it made any effort he possibly could to keep from breaking down.
“You have no idea how much I love you.”
James closed his eyes.
“I will say hi to mommy for you.”
“…sounds good, son.”
As James’s hand let go of his father’s finger, his heart beat its last beat, and his head fell deeper into the pillow.
As an image of himself, James, and his deceased wife as a family came to mind, he lifted his son’s lifeless body and held it to his torso, crying in the same manner as he had when his wife died.
Grown men cry, too.