A Brother's HoldA Story by ArchiaAbout a choiceIt was always known I was going to die. At birth I outlived the
odds, and it had only gotten worse. When you know the chance you’ll live to
eighteen is almost none, there’s a difference in the air when people talk of
their future. I always said I didn’t know what I would do after school, I
didn’t tell them I hoped to live. Sometimes I’d tell people of what’s happened
in my life. They look at me, with a sad expression, I always wonder if they
mean it. “You must really appreciate life then,” they say. I look at them just as they look at me. “No, not really.” “Oh.” It’s in their tone, I didn’t give them the answer they
expected. “Do you appreciate life?” So why should I? When I was nine a friend of my parents died. I asked my brother
how long they would be sad for. He knew everything my brother, even though he
was just three years older. “Well it depends if it’s a really close friend,” he had replied. “I don’t know.” “If it’s a really close friend they’ll be sad for two years. One
year to cry, and one more to dry their tears.” Two years later I felt glad that my parents could be happy now. When I was fifteen I told my brother I was afraid to die. In
everything, every appointment, every operation, my brother was there with me.
Death was the one thing where he couldn’t be. “Don’t worry sis, don’t be scared.” “But I am.” “Just don’t make your last moments bad. Think about the good times
instead. Think about how much we love you.” I could see in his voice, there was
already sadness there. Yet I had not known what it was for. Three days later my brother died. He didn’t leave a note for my
parents, not for his friends, no one else, just a few words for me. When
you die I’ll be there In everything my brother had been with me, in everything my
brother would be with me. One year passed to cry. Another went to dry the tears. I could be
happy again. It was then that I was called to the doctor’s office. “We have some news,” he said, smiling without waver. “A new
treatment had been formulated, and whilst it’s still under slight
investigation, it could be your cure.” My parents smiled, gave me a hug. “So would you like to undertake it?” The doctor asked. “No,” I said. They asked me, questioned me, interrogated me. I lied, told them I
was scared, it probably wouldn’t work, anything but what I knew. I didn’t know
how I could tell them my brother was waiting for me, that I had to go. “Don’t worry honey, it will be okay, it won’t do anything bad, it
can only help.” “I’m not doing it.” They couldn’t change my mind. I was seventeen when I was admitted to the hospital for the last
time. I was not scared, I was not afraid. Right there, I knew my brother was
with me. I had had one year of crying and one of drying my tears. Now all that
was left was happiness. When
you die I’ll be there And he was. © 2013 ArchiaReviews
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Added on July 23, 2012Last Updated on April 3, 2013 AuthorArchiaAboutReally, I'm just one of you. Come in, sit down, grab a cup of tea and enjoy a good read (now that may be a questionable statement). If there's anything in any of my stories that you want to be exp.. more..Writing
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