Status: First upload on Mibba, Hope you like it :)
Waiting
1 Hour
For the 148th time I walked through the automatic front doors, escaping the bitter-sweet cold that gnawed at my finger tips. The early morning frost had swept across the city leaving a trail of icy blue. The doors closed behind me with a whisper and I welcomed the warmth that engulfed me.
The carrier I held rustled as it fell to rest between the crook of my elbow as I walked to the new modernized reception desk, an unnatural shade of white with glass cabinets that displayed health related products. Already, somebody had discarded their gum beneath the counter.
“Oliver Logan?” I say to the receptionist expectantly yet shyly, listening to the awkward silence of the waiting room, disturbed only by the gauche chatter amongst patients. At the reception was a red-headed woman I came to know as Julie. She nodded her head respectively, like she had many times before, and I walked through the double doors, heading down the long corridor ahead. Each wall was plastered in health posters and the ghastly aroma of disinfectant and disease invaded my senses.
I had almost reach room 07 and I held back my tears. I wasn’t going to cry. No, I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t let him see me cry. If I cried, he would cry and then we wouldn’t have even been able to hold on to hope. Hope was all we had.
“Hey, Ollie!” I said joyfully to the little boy laid in the dismal hospital bed.
“T!” His little voice squealed with as much excitement his frail little body could assemble. “You came!”
“Of course I came! I always come back for you, don’t I?” I winked at him.
Looking around the wretched room I held my breath. The small little boy laid helplessly in the uncomfortable hospital bed, hooked up to countless machines made my heart tremble beneath my chest. The sickly green walls only made him look weaker as his body struggled for life. His body was deteriorating.
“How ‘you feeling, mate?” I say stroking his bare head. A head that was once sheltered by his beautiful, blonde hair.
“I’m okay, Thea.” He lied, purely for my benefit. But I knew his disease was killing him on the inside.
I sat down in the wooden chair at his bedside. The uncomfortable seating gave me pins and needles, but I was in no position to complain about something so trivial, as I watch my baby brother waste away to skin and bones.
“What’s in the bag?” Oliver asked curiously, striving to lift himself high enough to see but his feeble limbs failed him. He sighed in submission.
“Well, let’s see.” I smiled falsely, only hoping that my facade was enough to hide the grief I hid within myself. I empty the bag onto his hospital bed, announcing each item as I went. I had brought him his book, his Nintendo DS and his favorite teddy I gave him for his birthday. He had called it Rodney.
“Rodney!” He called, his voice faltering as he spoke.
“And… I brought your favorite, chocolate chip muffins with extra chips”
“Thanks, T” He said, his smile fading as he took the muffins and placed them on his bed side table which held a useless, flickering lamp. ‘But I’m not hungry’
His appetite was abating. I hadn’t seen him eat properly for weeks and he was growing thin, his bones visible through his pale skin. The life in his blue eyes was dwindling and his hope for survival was absent.
“That’s okay, Ollie. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“Don’t leave me!” He cried.
“Of course I won’t leave you.” I kissed his forehead lightly. A silent vow I made to him and myself.
“I love you, T.” He whispered and I pulled his bed spread up to his chin, tucking it in at the sides.
I watched him sleep as silent tears escaped from my eyes, running down my cheeks and falling delicately on to his white sheets. I listened to him struggle to take in the air, his breath loud and hoarse. There was nothing I could do to take away his pain. I held his hand lightly in mine; terrified the slightest pressure might break his brittle bones. Black mascara ran down my flustered cheeks as I sobbed silently against my arm.
The carrier I held rustled as it fell to rest between the crook of my elbow as I walked to the new modernized reception desk, an unnatural shade of white with glass cabinets that displayed health related products. Already, somebody had discarded their gum beneath the counter.
“Oliver Logan?” I say to the receptionist expectantly yet shyly, listening to the awkward silence of the waiting room, disturbed only by the gauche chatter amongst patients. At the reception was a red-headed woman I came to know as Julie. She nodded her head respectively, like she had many times before, and I walked through the double doors, heading down the long corridor ahead. Each wall was plastered in health posters and the ghastly aroma of disinfectant and disease invaded my senses.
I had almost reach room 07 and I held back my tears. I wasn’t going to cry. No, I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t let him see me cry. If I cried, he would cry and then we wouldn’t have even been able to hold on to hope. Hope was all we had.
“Hey, Ollie!” I said joyfully to the little boy laid in the dismal hospital bed.
“T!” His little voice squealed with as much excitement his frail little body could assemble. “You came!”
“Of course I came! I always come back for you, don’t I?” I winked at him.
Looking around the wretched room I held my breath. The small little boy laid helplessly in the uncomfortable hospital bed, hooked up to countless machines made my heart tremble beneath my chest. The sickly green walls only made him look weaker as his body struggled for life. His body was deteriorating.
“How ‘you feeling, mate?” I say stroking his bare head. A head that was once sheltered by his beautiful, blonde hair.
“I’m okay, Thea.” He lied, purely for my benefit. But I knew his disease was killing him on the inside.
I sat down in the wooden chair at his bedside. The uncomfortable seating gave me pins and needles, but I was in no position to complain about something so trivial, as I watch my baby brother waste away to skin and bones.
“What’s in the bag?” Oliver asked curiously, striving to lift himself high enough to see but his feeble limbs failed him. He sighed in submission.
“Well, let’s see.” I smiled falsely, only hoping that my facade was enough to hide the grief I hid within myself. I empty the bag onto his hospital bed, announcing each item as I went. I had brought him his book, his Nintendo DS and his favorite teddy I gave him for his birthday. He had called it Rodney.
“Rodney!” He called, his voice faltering as he spoke.
“And… I brought your favorite, chocolate chip muffins with extra chips”
“Thanks, T” He said, his smile fading as he took the muffins and placed them on his bed side table which held a useless, flickering lamp. ‘But I’m not hungry’
His appetite was abating. I hadn’t seen him eat properly for weeks and he was growing thin, his bones visible through his pale skin. The life in his blue eyes was dwindling and his hope for survival was absent.
“That’s okay, Ollie. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“Don’t leave me!” He cried.
“Of course I won’t leave you.” I kissed his forehead lightly. A silent vow I made to him and myself.
“I love you, T.” He whispered and I pulled his bed spread up to his chin, tucking it in at the sides.
I watched him sleep as silent tears escaped from my eyes, running down my cheeks and falling delicately on to his white sheets. I listened to him struggle to take in the air, his breath loud and hoarse. There was nothing I could do to take away his pain. I held his hand lightly in mine; terrified the slightest pressure might break his brittle bones. Black mascara ran down my flustered cheeks as I sobbed silently against my arm.