this story has absolutely nothing to do with the moffatts, but i wanted to put it on here becuase i think it's one of the better things i've written. it made my friend cry! :) it was an assignment for my twelfth grade comp class, and it was the only fiction piece we were able to write in that class all year. so, just read it *it's short*, and let me know what you think.
as i stared into the mirror that morning, my reflection seemed to take on a whole new shape as tears filled my brown eyes. my father had always told me that men do not cry, but he left years ago and did not see the pain that we experienced every day. my six-year-old brother, jamie, lay in the room next to mine, coughing, while my mother tried desperately to calm him.
jamie was born with cystic fibrosis, a life-threatening disease that affects his lungs. it is incurable, and jamie suffered from one of the worst cases his doctors had ever seen. but they said that he was strong and that he could outlive the seven-year limit placed on his life at birth.
jamie was indeed strong; he was fearless. he once asked my mother to explain to him what the doctors meant when they told him he would die. he listened intently as my mother briefly explained it, tears streaming down her pale face, agony lurking behind her soft, green eyes.
jamie did not cry. he simply proceeded to tell my mother that he was not scared. he said that when it was time for him to die, angels would whisk him away to a place where he would no longer be sick. yes, jamie had quite an imagination at six years old. he believed in the impossible, and he thrived on fairy tales and fantasies.
as i reluctantly dragged myself across the floor and into jamie's room, i heard his coughing cease. i stoppeed outside his door and watched as my mother lovingly stroked jamie's blonde hair. he was asleep, yet she continued to study him. she was apprehensive every time he slept because she was afraid that one day he would never wake up. i could see the worry written all over her face as she stared at my brother. i quickly crossed the room and placed an assuring hand on her shoulder.
"he's gonna be okay, mom," i said, attempting to keep my voice from wavering.
she patted my hand gratefully and stood next to me. "i know, skot." the words barely escaped her lips as she cast another gaze toward my brother. my eyes also rested on his ashen features and brittle figure. at six, he looked no more than four years old, and his breathing was like that of a dog that had been chasing cars all day.
tears slid slowly down my mother's cheeks again as she clasped my brother's tiny hand in her own. i wanted to tell her that everything would be okay and know that i was right. i wanted to lift all the pain from her aching heart and see a smile play freely across her face. i wanted her to get through one night in a peaceful sleep, free from worry and anguish. i wanted her to be happy.
happiness did not seem to exist in our household much anymore. on jamie's sixth birthday, he had ended up in the hospital.
"he does not have much longer," doctor wilder, jamie's specialist, had explained to my mom. "he is getting worse."
that day i watched my mother fall to the floor in overwhelming torment and scream endlessly. she was not yet ready to give up her son to the angels.
watching jamie today, however, i knew that he would no longer be a part of my life by the end of the day. i think my mother knew it too; it was an inevitable fact that we both refused to affirm out loud.
that night, i lay in bed and listened to the gentle whistle of the wind outside my window. raindrops drummed quietly on the roof, and lightning lit up the sky every few minutes. the storm almost soothed my tumultuous emotions, and i was thankful that the rain could hide my tears.
jamie lay coughing in his bedroom, and a weak groan would escape him every once in a while. i prayed silently that god would give him a chance to live past his seventh birthday and that the angels would wait. jamie was too young to die.
as i turned on my side, i noticed that a bright light emanated from jamie's room. since it was not flashing, i knew it was not lightning. i quickly jumped from my bed and raced across the hall to jamie's bedroom.
i stopped in the doorway, when i saw jamie resting peacefully, surrounded by a celestial glow. i watched as several small beams of light seemed to float gracefully toward my brother.
i heard faint whispers; then suddenly a tiny voice asked, "is he the one?"
i detected more subtle whispers as the lights surrounded my brother. all of a sudden, wings unfolded from the lights as they began to take on the shapes of angels. five seraphic faces beamed at jamie as they hovered above him.
i stood in awe as one angel bent down close to jamie's face and placed her soft hand on his cheek. suddenly, jamie's coughing stopped, and a smile crossed his face. the angel grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the others, who hovered near the ceiling.
new tears sprung to my eyes as they carried jamie away, but this time i was not sad. i smiled as i watched my brother disappear into the night sky. the rain was gone, and stars sparkled brightly. jamie would be happy now; he was with his angels.
