Race to Heaven

My second sad story.

The wind slowly crept up behind the young boy, tossing his hair as he wept alone. The graveyard was empty, it was the only time he would go there. He never wanted people to see his pain. Looking down to the marble in front of him, he sobbed his mother’s name as he bowed his head in mourning. Weeks had past, and his brave face only crumbled while he lay on his knees in front of her. He never could lie to her, she always knew what he was thinking. She always knew the right thing to say, the things that would make everything okay. At age fourteen, having the most important thing in his life being ripped away from him, tore him more than anything. The cancer had been slow, at first he could remember his mother’s smile in the hospital bed. He had always been scared of hospitals, so she always smiled at him when he visited. The doctors had always welcomed him with a warm gaze, telling him that everything was going to be okay...

... but they lied. Every single one of them had lied. Thinking that they were shielding him from the reality of the situation, they put his mind at ease and gave him hope. Now he sat alone at the hilltop, crying to his mother asking her to smile one more time... just one more time.

Tears flowed down his cold cheeks as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. He should have known that things weren’t going to be okay, the doctors never smiled when his father was there. They thought he couldn’t see, but he did. His mother’s smile slowly faded to a look of pain. The cancer was apparently caused by second hand smoking. Never before had he seen his father cry, never before had he saw the powerful man that could do anything, fall to his knees and cry into his wife’s wrist. The doctors pulled the boy from the room, telling him that everything was going to be okay.

Looking out over the town below, the boy saw the torch lights approaching the base of the grave yard. He didn’t have much time left. Extending his hand forward, he slowly caressed the cold marble of the headstone and leaned in to kiss the worn portrait of his mother. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he looked over his shoulder before he began his run down the hillside.

It was a female doctor that had taken him from the room. She was the nicest of all of them, she told him that his mother was very sick and that it was because she breathed in too much smoke. The boy was confused, he didn’t understand, he told her that they didn’t have fires in the house, that they only used radiators. And that sometimes his father would cook dinner and make smoke then, but it was only a little. She had smiled weakly at his words, but she leaned in closer and put her arm around him. He could see the same look in her eyes that every adult had given him in the last number of weeks. Sympathy.

It wasn’t the cooking smoke that was making his mother sick, it was the cigarette smoke from his father’s habit that was taking her from them. The woman delivered the words as simply as she could, not ever realising how much her words would change his life. Crying into her shoulder, he asked her if his mother would be okay. It was the doctor’s pause that answered the boy’s question. He never did hear what she said... he never heard another word that night. Not when his father took him in his arms, and not when his father took him to bed. It was scary to see his father in such a weakened state, but he knew what he had to do. Mother had always been the woman of both their hearts and now she was being taken from them.

Running into the night, the young boy felt his heart pounding through his chest. Not the fear of getting caught, not the exertion of running. His heart was trying to rip free of his chest, trying to escape the pain he constantly felt. The doctors had told him that he would have to take care of his father. They said it with their fake smiles, knowing that it would be him that needed his father. In his tired state of confusion and despair, he tried to smile back... feeling the warm tears glide down his reddened cheeks. Mother died that night. She died  with a smile on her face. Not a smile with warmth in it, not a smile that said she lived her life. A smile that showed she finally had a moment of release. No longer did she feel the pain in her body and the pain in her heart. Father could not see the smile... all he saw was regret and despair. He changed that night, not to say he didn’t change before it... but no longer did the boy see the happy man come through the front door, back from work. Now all he saw was a shadow of his father, clinging to the memories... just as his son did.

The boy started smoking the next day. He couldn’t think of anything but catching his mother on the way to heaven. To him it sounded stupid, but if he smoked, he thought he could leave faster than his mother... she never smoked, so he should be able to get to her soon. It was his father that caught him coughing in the bedroom, surrounded by cigarette butts. The tears ran down his face, no longer tears of sadness, but tears of regret... his son sat before him, smoking, and he felt no remorse. He felt nothing for his son and couldn’t even find the courage in himself to hug his own son. His life had just died in a hospital bed and now he looked at the son he never wanted and couldn’t think of anything to say. His wife made him promise that he would care for his son... he made that promise, which is why he called his sister to take him away. Take him somewhere that he would be cared for...

The boy looked to his father and tried to say the words in his head, but he could only cough and mumble. Looking to his father, he realised that things would never be the same.

Years passed, and the hospital called the aunt of the boy. They wanted to inform the boy that his father was in hospital. The doctors said that the father may not have much time left. The Aunt fell to her knees at the news of her brother. She then told them that she had not seen her nephew in a very long time. He moved out on his eighteenth birthday a few years back. He sent letters of gratitude for the care he received, but he knew he couldn’t stay in the village. There were too many memories to keep him there.

The father opened his eyes slowly and looked at the only family he had left, his sister, sitting on the bedside. Her eyes red from tears. The father smiled weakly and asked about his son... his sister just shook her head weakly. Grimacing, the father lay his head back against the pillow... a part of him wanted to see his son, just one last time before he passed away. His sister however started to speak to him. The father raised his head slightly on the pillows and regarded her as she asked why he refused to take the operation. His reasons remained cemented, the only worthwhile thing in his life was waiting for him in heaven... Thinking of her still brought the tears to his eyes. His sister bowed her head as she turned from him. The father held her hand as he drifted off to sleep. It was in this moment that he began to tremble, a part of him didn’t want to die. He knew he had wasted a lot of his life... he never held his promise to care for his son. His wife would have wanted him to live his life... and all he did was mourn hers. It was in his dying moments that he felt the pain clench around his dying heart, he didn’t deserve a second chance... his own son didn’t even come to see him, not even for one last time.

The father opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. His sister leaned forward and kissed him on his forehead. The doctor to his right smiled at him warmly as he said that the operation was a full success. The confusion ripped through him as he took the clip board from the surgeon. His signature was scrawled at the bottom of the page, a bad forgery. Looking to his sister, he opened his mouth to speak, but she just placed a note in his hands. Looking one last time around him, he recognised the faces of the doctors. Some of them had been there with him when his wife passed away. Now all he saw when he looked at them was the same sad smiles. Some turned their heads away when he looked at them...

Turning his head back towards the note, he opened it with shaking hands and read the unfamiliar handwriting. It read simply, “Everyone deserves a second chance...”

It was in that moment that the father realised what happened. The doctors moved to the side so the father could look forward at his organ donor. His eyes welled up as he looked for the last time onto the face of his only son. Looking back to the note, he read the last line, his tears dripping onto the page as he read aloud in a shaking voice, “I always said that I would catch her first...”

 

Author's Note

I hope you like it. I didnt proof read it yet, but i think its okay :)

Reviews

[-Aurelia Mirella]

Oh thank God I read this alone! I'm a crying mess!

This was so heart wrenching but beautiful at the same time. I could feel the emotions of your characters so clearly, and picture the scenes all very well.

I enjoyed reading your story so so much. Feel free to share more pieces as well. :]

Always,
-Aurelia Mirella

[Dreamy]

This captivated me.....this is the piece that should win the contest. Thank you for sharing.

[Jinx's Heart]

Astounding! Truly beautiful!

[Frances O'Neill]

It certainly was a story of someone being rescued! Sad tale!

[Aspiration]

I liked the story, but not as much as the first sad story you wrote... At the first sad story, you got a feeling that your heart was in it- and somehow I didn't get the feeling while reading this. It felt like you as a good writer just knew which strings to pull to make people cry- a tad too intended...?
One thing that I didn't get: at the age of 14 I guess a boy wouldn't be so naive to think the smoke the doctor referred to was from the kitchen? :)
The other thing (mentioned before I guess) I was wondering about, was the story behind the "unwanted son"...
But I liked very much the twist at the end of the story and I think the title fits perfectly!
All in all: not bad, but you can do it better ;) *hugh*

[C. C. Burl]

Oh gosh, what a wonderfully sad and heart-wrenching write! Nearly made me cry! (Yes, again.) This was a beautiful short story, I have no idea how you come up with these lovely and heart-wrenching plots. Thank you so much for sending me the read request. I promise that I will get around to reading some of your other works as well.

Happy New Year!

C. C. Burl

[Amy]

I really liked this story
it was one of those bitter sweet endings
and i really liked the last lines "I always said that i would catch her first"
the only thing i think you should do is add a bit more detail
like the mothers smile , you mention the different smiles a lot, and i think you should describe them a bit more esp the mothers so we as the readers could feel a more of a connection with her
but maybe thats just me
but all in all it was really good =]
~amy~

[Flame DM]

I think its a great short story and a good start. The emotion you laid was definately heart pounding. Grammar I dont care about, its content. there was a sentence that confused me, "The doctors pulled me from the room, telling me that everything was going to be okay." hmm...i dont think you meant the switch to first person there. was it a thought? Or a mistake? i wasn't sure.

The only other problem I had was that, this was a great story, so to have it be laid out so fast was a tad dissapointing. You can do so much with it. Why is the kid the son the father never wanted? Was it just not want after the mother died, or never wanted period? And if it was never wanted period then why did he want to see his son again at the end? I did like the ending btw. Throw in some dialogue, play it out scene by scene with some short chapters and you'll have yourself a real pager turner in your hands! And an even mroe brilliant story.

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