His Name Is Kirby Jones

On the Sunday night, Zoey had spent the day with her boyfriend, Kirby had helped her with her Calculus homework, and Dora had cooked them Lunch, after dropping her off home, Kirby went to go pick some groceries for Dora.

Elena and Zack were spending the day together again, after a successful evening before.
They were going out for some food, smiling and flirting like the teenagers they were. Zoey was playing Snap with Kennedy, and while all this was happening….

Michael Jones tried to get out of bed for a drink of water; he didn’t want to bother the woman that seemed to be taking care of him. He was an independent man; he knew how to do this. Pushing the covers back gently, and planting his feet on the soft, plush carpet, he felt his legs shake slightly.

He forced his legs to stop, and he shakily put his weight on his legs. Clutching to the bedside as his body screamed for comfort again, begging to get back into bed and call that woman who told him to ring the bell if he needed her.

“No.” he hissed quietly, and straightened up, his head blurred slightly, his chest felt like he had ran a marathon. His breathing was raspy, as his aging body took a tiny step forward, still clutching his bedside table for support.

Part of him knew he should not move any further, the other part had forgotten his common sense. Michael took one more, daring step, forcing himself to let go of the table. His chest felt like it was on fire, his nose all clogged, his head sweating. He didn’t understand why this was so difficult for him.

Within seconds, Michael’s legs began shaking again. He needed that water; Michael took more confident steps towards the bathroom which was thankfully adjoined to his room. He got to the sink, and instantly leaned forward for support. His chest burned even more. His breathing got shallow, and as his hand reached out for the tap, shaking beyond belief. He knew then, something was beyond wrong.

Michael wouldn’t ever be able to describe the pain he felt, as he clutched his heart. It was going faster, and faster, and it burned, it felt like it was cracking, or being stabbed. His left arm went numb, and his other hand clutched his pyjama shirt.

“Don’t let me die.” He thought, before he tumbled out the bathroom, and as he stumbled over to the bed, he managed to slide down slowly, before collapsing to the side. He twitched repeatedly, and then closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. Then the darkness came.
--
Dora had no idea her husband had collapsed. She didn’t hear anything. But inside her heart, it panged, and her stomach sunk as she was knitting gently to the sound of music quietly blaring from the radio in the kitchen. Something was wrong, she could feel it.

Putting her knitting needles down, she got up from the chair. She shuffled into the living room, her slippers made a quiet scraping sound on the carpet.

“Michael?” she called up the stairs, standing at the bottom. He could be a sleep, the thought crossed her mind. A wave of worry washed over her, Dora decided to double-check. She slowly got up the stairs, and the floorboards creaked over the silence as she slowly walked in to her bedroom, she noticed the bed was empty. Where could he have gone?

Then she heard it, a slight, agonizing mumbling groan. Dora walked over to the side of the bed, and gasped as she saw her husband on the floor, twitching, clutching his heart.

“Michael!” she squeaked, quickly kneeling to his aid. He gasped for air, and then Dora went into auto-pilot; she grabbed the phone which was by her bed, dialled the emergency number, and begged for a miracle, praying for help.

“Don’t you dare die on me Michael Jones!” Dora threatened, tears escaping her eyes as she clutched his hand. His eyes were closed, but he could hear her. The woman on the other end asked what the emergency was, and Dora sobbed out what had happened.
Within seconds, an ambulance was on its way. Dora felt her heart breaking, as she held Michael’s hand tightly, he was clasping it back. He was shaking, and Dora sobbed harder, begging him to wake up.

It was all a blur, nobody could really tell you what truly happened in the next twenty, agonizing minutes, as they awaited the arrival of the ambulance. Dora pleaded for Michael to open his eyes, and told him to never let go.

And even despite though Michael couldn’t remember where he was or what was happening, or why he was in some mind-numbing darkness, he could remember the love of his life pleading for him to never let go. Some could say it was a spiritual feeling, or it was God’s way of telling him something, or possibly just luck.

But Michael didn’t let go, because he knew it wasn’t time for him yet. He wasn’t meant to die now, so he held on to his wife’s hand and allowed the darkness to take him. He was going to wake up eventually.
--
Kirby was trudging out the store, the trolley piled high, mostly food for him as he knew how much he ate, and he walked over to his car, filling the trunk up. When he finally got back in his car, sitting comfortably and started his car, his phone bleeped a text. He quickly opened it and smiled to himself:

The others want to meet you soon! :) <3 – Zoey

That’s great baby, looking forward to it :) <3 – Kirby

Yay! How’s shopping? :) <3- Zoey

Aha, and just finished, going home now to relax….school tomorrow :( <3 – Kirby

Good, drive safe :) I know, but we have homeroom and English together! <3 – Zoey

I will :) That’s true, I get to see your beautiful face tomorrow, day dramatically improved <3 – Kirby

You’re too good for me <3 – Zoey

Never, you’re perfect for me <3 – Kirby

You’re perfect for me too <3<3<3 – Zoey

I’ll call you tonight <3<3<3 – Kirby

Kirby sighed contently, as he put his phone away and started his car, buckling himself in. Just as he was about to reverse, his phone began to blare out his ringtone of: “Fallen Angels” by Black Veil Brides, noticing it was an unknown number, Kirby answered it cautiously.

“Hello?” he said politely.

That’s when Kirby’s heart sunk: Pops was in hospital, unconscious and in a fragile condition.
--
Have you ever lost someone close to you? Kirby Jones has never experience that, well not truly. He used to have hamster, when he was just ten years old.

Dora and Michael bought this hamster for him, for his birthday. He adored it, and he named it: ‘Stanley’.

Stanley wasn’t an ordinary hamster, he couldn’t have been. He seemed to just know stuff, know things. Stanley and Kirby were inseparable; Kirby at one point threw a tantrum because he couldn’t take Stanley to school.

Dora had to explain to him that Stanley wouldn’t be suitable for school. Kirby caved, but
when he came home from school, he cared for this hamster 24/7. Dora and Michael were very impressed on how attached they had become and how responsible Kirby was behaving.

Unfortunately, one time while Kirby was at school, Dora was cleaning and accidentally knocked the cage over, and made the door swing open. Stanley took his opportunity of freedom, and took a run for it. Dora chased this hamster all-round the house, and just as it was heading for the door, Michael had come in from the garden, and Stanley practically flew out.

Michael was too slow to catch him, and Stanley ran into the street, only seconds later was he flattened by the neighbour’s son’s car.

Kirby was distraught, and refused to come out of his room for a week. Michael was the one that explained to him sometimes, accidents happen and that maybe Stanley wanted to die that way, running free.

Kirby can remember vividly to this day, sniffling as he sat on his single bed with his Pops. He can remember being hugged gently, and being told it was going to be okay. Kirby felt safe, secure and most of all, loved.

Now Kirby felt scared again, he felt lost. His Pops was in hospital, unconscious and the doctor’s didn’t know when he would wake up, so for now Kirby would sit in the hospital room, on the uncomfortable chair, and watch Pops for however long it took Dora was crying outside talking to the neighbour, who had come with her.

Kirby felt numb, he felt cold. His heart was thumping hard, and his hands felt clammy as he clutched the armrest of the chair, clutching it so tightly, his knuckles were white. He blinked and felt his face crumple in agonizing heartache.

Tears fell helplessly, as he stared at his pale, sleeping grandfather. The man he worshipped, the man he adored. The man that helped him through his entire life. The man who would not die tonight.