Status: Just a little something I threw together during an English exam. It's quite dreadful, but the only thing I've completed in some time.
Sleep
[1/1]
Watching a loved one die has to be one of the hardest things in life to witness. Sitting there, knowing you're useless to someone you care so much about. You can pray to some higher being, or perhaps trade your life, for theirs.
Brian had tried everything to save his partner, but nothing seemed to work. God didn't seem to hear his pleas, and cries, and no doctor could simply steal Brian's life-force, and fix Zack.
Zack, twenty-two-years-old, and doomed to spend the remainder of his life in a coma. What had put him there, no-one could say. One morning, Zack just didn't wake up. Every test came back the same; Zack was healthy. There was nothing physically wrong.
'Can't you do something?' Brian would ask the doctors.
'I'm sorry,' was all they could ever reply.
Maybe Brian was putting too much faith in the doctors, not that he had a choice.
Each day, Zack's body grew weaker. He couldn't breathe on his own anymore. His skin, pale beforehand, became opaque, and bruised too easily.
Other patients in the hospital would glance at Brian when he visited. He could feel their stares, their pitty. He couldn't seem to care, though. He could deal with people staring, as long as Zack woke up.
Two months. Zack had been sleeping for two months. Brian was counting the days. Sixty-one days, sixty-one visits. Brian wasn't allowed to stay with Zack overnight, having to return home to an empty bed.
Day sixty-five, Zack's doctor ran another batch of tests. Four hours, and thirty-nine minutes they waited for the results. Brian had waited longer; he had no-where to be.
'His brain is slowly shutting down. I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do.'
Twenty-eight minutes Brian sat there, staring at his dying lover. He looked so peaceful, like he was merely sleeping. Maybe he was. Brian could never wake Zack when he was asleep. He could never ruin that perfection.
'Sleep now, love.'
Brian had tried everything to save his partner, but nothing seemed to work. God didn't seem to hear his pleas, and cries, and no doctor could simply steal Brian's life-force, and fix Zack.
Zack, twenty-two-years-old, and doomed to spend the remainder of his life in a coma. What had put him there, no-one could say. One morning, Zack just didn't wake up. Every test came back the same; Zack was healthy. There was nothing physically wrong.
'Can't you do something?' Brian would ask the doctors.
'I'm sorry,' was all they could ever reply.
Maybe Brian was putting too much faith in the doctors, not that he had a choice.
Each day, Zack's body grew weaker. He couldn't breathe on his own anymore. His skin, pale beforehand, became opaque, and bruised too easily.
Other patients in the hospital would glance at Brian when he visited. He could feel their stares, their pitty. He couldn't seem to care, though. He could deal with people staring, as long as Zack woke up.
Two months. Zack had been sleeping for two months. Brian was counting the days. Sixty-one days, sixty-one visits. Brian wasn't allowed to stay with Zack overnight, having to return home to an empty bed.
Day sixty-five, Zack's doctor ran another batch of tests. Four hours, and thirty-nine minutes they waited for the results. Brian had waited longer; he had no-where to be.
'His brain is slowly shutting down. I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do.'
Twenty-eight minutes Brian sat there, staring at his dying lover. He looked so peaceful, like he was merely sleeping. Maybe he was. Brian could never wake Zack when he was asleep. He could never ruin that perfection.
'Sleep now, love.'