Griffin Callenreese
28 Feb. 2015
It seems to be getting tougher each day.
I'm noticing that more and more lately; that I'm going backwards faster than expected.
Getting worse mentally and physically; not able to move too much and forgetting things that must've happened a long time ago. It's strange when I forget about something others do remember.
Almost as if I know I should remember something about myself or my brother or my parents, but I there's a wall in between me and the memories. And it happens so often lately.
It's gone downhill quick after Max told me I had reached stage four and never before that day I had felt like I didn't want to keep dragging myself through live anymore. But I've more like that lately.
Every day's been a struggle; having to depend on Max with every simple task, and having to keep myself from worrying Aslan whenever I forget words, or names, or even my own memories.
But I keep on dragging myself through stage four.
Slowly, like a snail, but I'm moving on.
I know Aslan and Max try their best to make as least painful for me, because Aslan doesn't mention it when I'm being forgetful, and neither of them acts awkward when Max has to feed me by formula or wash me or help me do whatever every normal twenty-six year old guy can do by himself.
Each day just feels like running a marathon, and a longer one with every day that passes.
And today doesn't grant me the chance to catch my breath from the previous ones.
Instead Max shows up in the doorway of my room only a couple of minutes after I've woken up.
"How are you?" he asks me.
I tell him I've been doing okay, just as usual; practically every part of my body feels either numb or is hurting even more than the day before, and I mentally feel like a sieve, only catching the information that makes me feel worse instead of better. But I'm still okay, I'm still myself.
"I'm glad," Max replies, but he looks nowhere near glad; his cheeks are red and splotchy and his eyes look blood shot from sleeping too little. There's also something about his expression that seems off.
When I ask him if he's okay too, he looks around the room; it almost looks like he's checking if Aslan's not inside this room as well, before he allows himself to say, "I have bad news, Griff."
"What?" I swallow; it might be good he checked for Aslan's presence before saying that, because I don't want Aslan to hear any bad news right now. He's already got enough to worry about with his own problems, he doesn't need the bad news that's for me.
"Professors Alexis and Abraham Dawson-" Max takes a hand through his hair and winces. "- they brought the development of a cure for B1 to a halt. They're not going to be able to safe you."
"You're kidding," I whisper, but there's no response. I stare at Max with big eyes, searching for something to tell me that he's joking, but I know he isn't. "Right?"
He shakes his head and sits down on the crutch next to my bed. After rubbing his face with the palm of his hand, he looks up at me and mutters, "I'm sorry, Griff."
I shake my head in disbelief. "Why?" I bite the inside of my cheek in frustration. "I thought, a couple of months ago, you said they were close to finding a working treatment?"
Max nods, telling me that they were really close. "But they need a patient's brain and body to continue their research again." His eyes meet mine, they're filled with fear. "They need a dead test subject, and w-well, they don't have one."
I stare down at my hands, putting all my energy into clenching them into two fists. I'm so mad, not because they're going to let me pass away; I'll die anyway, and I'll be okay with it if it happens. But they cannot stop development, because they still need to safe Aslan.
"Use me," I reply; I've thought about it time and time again, how I'd probably let them take away what's left of my useless life if I didn't have Aslan to care for. "Just use my brain."
"I won't!" Max immediately replies. "I-I can't!"
"Why?" I ask him, looking at him as his eyes fill up with tears. I've never seen Max get so emotional, he's usually very good at keeping his emotions to himself, but now he's on the brink of crying.
"Griffin," he replies. "You're my best friend, I can't just let them use you when you got a life to live."
I shake my head, telling him I don't have a life to live anymore. "My body's useless, my memory's getting worse with each day that passes and all the life I have left is to slowly move towards the grave, Max." I swallow, because my own words kind of hurt me deep inside. "But Aslan? He still has so much longer to live; I want him to be able to go to college, fall in love, to get a job and have a family. And he won't have any of that if they stop making a cure."
Max glares at me, there's only one emotion of his face; pain.
"Don't you want a little boy like Aslan, who still has a life to live, to survive?" I ask him.
Max closes his eyes briefly, telling me that of course he wants Aslan to live a fulfilling life. "But I want you to find someone you love too, to start a family for your own and live a normal life, instead of ending up as a test subject with only a code for Aslan and me to recognize you by, Griff."
I swallow, I never thought about it that way; I thought that if I'd die it'd just be how it was always supposed to be and learned to live with dying, but I never thought about how afraid the people around me are of it. They're not just scared of death, they're scared of me dying.
I take a moment to think about it, and I guess it makes sense that Aslan and Max worry about my just as much as I worry about them. I don't want them passing away either.
"Okay," I mumble, my voice just as slurred and awful sounding as usual. "Let's put it this way."
My eyes meet Max's, since he's glaring at me with hope in his eyes.
"I'll live, I'll continue living this life for Aslan and for you and hopefully to see the cure with my own eyes one day-" I make sure to show Max how serious I am. "- but when I do pass away, I want to give my body to science, they can use each and every piece of me." I pause. "Just promise me you'll make sure those Dawson brothers start up their research again and develop a cure for Aslan."
Max nods, slowly, replying, "Yes, I will."
"Promise?" I ask him, even though I know when Max says he'll do something, he will do everything he can to make it actually happen. I know he's not kidding; he will make sure these professors will cure my little brother and every other unlucky individual that's infected with B1 at birth.
"Promise," he replies with a reassuring smile. "But only if you promise to try to enjoy your life."
I'll try, and a smile and a nod is all I can give him for an answer. Because I know in the end I won't even remember what sorts of fun things I have done in the past.
But without using my words, I promise Max I'll keep dragging myself through this deadly marathons. For myself and him, for Aslan and for the sake of living a somewhat fulfilling life.
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