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Rated: E · Short Story · Friendship · #1300063
Creating some stories about a friend, goes w/ "Bridge to the Future". Draft.
The curtains were partially closed, the mood was overcome with sorrow.  Several people gathered around a modest bed in the middle of the room.  A young man and a young woman knelt on the floor on either side of the bed, faces buried in the sheets.  Over the sounds of the roaring brook outside the window, the cars on the distant highway, and the hum of the baseboard heaters; sobs were heard.  As you would approach, his frail body could be seen, mostly covered in a worn navy quilt.  His face was pale, his hair scattered and his eyes looked colorless.  Then a knock on the door is heard, as she walked in.  If you caught it, there was a brief shine in his eyes as he noticed her walk in.

Dressed in an forest green tunic, ivory pants, brown shoes, and a sea shell necklace, there was Olivia, standing in the doorway.  Her once shining brown hair was now scattered with white strands, cut much shorter than it used to be.  It barely made it down past her chin.  As she looked down at the frail body of a strong man she new in her youth lying in the bed, tears began to run down her cheek.

"Michael," she says barely audibly, "that can't be you".
With an effort, he quietly replies, "it is O, it is.  Can you believe it, fifty two and it's time for me to go already?"
She doesn't not reply but continues to stare in disbelief into his dark eyes.
"I was so close too, three months from now my team and I would have been able to reverse the pollution in any river..." he fades off, with a slight groan he turns his head a little to the side, "damn cancer got the best of me".
She gasps.  "Michael," she pauses, "you, you can't".
"That's what I said, but the doctors confirmed it, it's cancer.  It's been a rough battle,"  he pauses, "especially since my wife isn't here with me."  The young man at his side sobs louder.  His son, Ryan, the younger of the two, is only twenty, and isn't ready to lose another parent.
"It's been four years since Irene passed, I guess I can finally get to see her again," Michael says quietly.
"No.  You," Olivia pauses, "You can't go yet.  You can't."
"They said it's terminal, I have no real chance left.  I can't fight anymore," he says quietly with a hint of sorrow in his voice.
She turns her head to the door, then walks up to his bedside.  Claire, his daughter, moves aside to let Olivia get closer.

"Olivia".
"Do you really want to leave just yet?  You've only just begun," Olivia whispers to Michael.
He hesitates, "I know, I know.  I still have so much left to give back to this world, but my time is being cut short".

Ryan and Claire's sobs grow louder and the stick their faces back into the quilt.
Olivia reaches out to Michael, "You don't have to go just yet," she says quietly into his ear, "we've been through everything together, remember?  We can get through this too."
A man who was standing around the bed steps forward, "They said he has no chance," he adds bluntly.
Michael looks up, "they said I had a small one, very small," he pauses, "but there still is a chance I could," he pauses again, "...survive".  As he finishes his sentence, he puts his head down.

The man steps back, the room falls silent for a minute which seemed to be an eternity.  All to be heard was the hum of the radiator and the sounds outside.

Michael slowly looks at his two beautiful children, and then slowly makes his way to Olivia's face.
"Will you help me?" he asks innocently.

A small smile grows on Olivia's face.  "I'll be there every step of the way.  Thirty five years ago I told you...I'll always be there whenever you need me," she says with a tone of determination and protection.

In a soft voice Michael replies as he looks into his sobbing son's eyes, "I need---," He is cut off by a cough attack.  The coughs sound painful, and everyone in the room moves closer with a look of intense worry on their faces.

Ryan looks at his father, "Dad, Dad," he pauses, "are you alright?  What do you need?"
After a short moment, the cough subsides.  Michael replies as a shine seems to grow in his eyes, "I need you to know," he hesitates, "I don't want to leave yet.  But...but I will need your help..." he says as his voice trails off.

Olivia looks at him, the man she has known since she was five.  The man who is a brother to her, they share a bond stronger than blood.  She stares into his eyes, and shortly Michael's eyes match her gaze.
"Michael," Olivia pauses, "we're here for you".  She speaks in a heartfelt but quiet voice, as a new wave of tears roll down her cheeks.

A wave of color enter's Michael's face, long been damned to a pale grey color.
With her words, he smiles and slowly speaks, "Then we'll beat the odds."  His voice gets stronger.  "We always have," he adds with a slight chuckle.
© Copyright 2007 Ryan M. Manthey (foreverwalking at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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