Broken and Mended wings

Chapter 1, last breath

                                                                                     James 

My breaths became heavy and hard, my mother's eyes began to water and my father wouldn't stop looking at the nurses tending to me, as if by some miracle they could get me breathing properly. I heard the rapid beating of the machine, the machine that for three months now, has monitored my heart rate. I saw in the corner of my eye, machines and nurses working furiously to try to get me to breathe. 

 I looked over to my older brother, Jake. He was cradling our little sister in his arms. Naya looked like she was sobbing, her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her face was red and she was clutching the stuffed monkey I gave her for her 6th birthday. Once Naya caught my eye she let out a pained sob and turned to burry her teary face into Jake's stomach. Jake held Naya comfortingly and looked into my eyes. He gave me the look he has on when I'm about to do something stupid and he's trying to stop me. This time he wasn't telling me not to bike off a ramp to impress my crush, he was telling me not to die.

 I didn't want to, of course I didn't! I was only thirteen! I had a family, parents who were supposed to watch me grow up, a little sister I was supposed to give a gun to on her sixteenth birthday and a older brother to annoy. I had friends who were going to miss me, heck I haven't even had my first kiss yet! As I listed all the things I had to keep living, I suddenly felt suffocated. I tried breathing in slowly, but my lungs felt like they were being crushed. I couldn't breathe.
Then I heard a faint beep...then nothing. 

When I opened my eyes again, I felt nothing. I couldn't hear the machines anymore, but I could hear my family's sobs and whimpers though they sounded a bit muffled. I looked over at my family, they were all crying. I wanted to hug them all and tell them that it was okay and that I'm okay...but I couldn't. Instead I looked around. 

I looked at the white walls of my hospital room, though it's not really mine anymore. I looked at the machines I used to depend on to live. Then I saw the most painful reminder, the thing that started these past 3 months of pain. I saw my lung X-rays, the ones the showed the tumors growing in my lungs, putting force on my them. 

I first started having trouble breathing 3 months ago while at the school cafeteria with my friends. I was juggling oranges and smiling widely as my friends cheered for me, when suddenly I felt like I was having trouble breathing.
It was only for a while and it wasn't serious so I brushed it off, but my best friend Norman didn't. He insisted that I go to the infirmary, so I did. When I went in the nurses asked me what was wrong with me and I told that for a short amount of time, I had trouble breathing. The nurses let me lay down and skip the last two classes of the day, which was the only good thing to happen in the next three months.
 When I got home dad wasn't back from work yet, but apparently the school called my mom and told her about my infirmary visit. My ever worrying Filipina mom raced me to the hospital to get me checked. Some of the nurses there are mom's friends from the Philippines so they were able to boost our appointment. My mom told the doctor that I had "obstructed breathing." I told the doctor she was over reacting and told him what really happened. The doctor said that it doesn't sound that serious, but they're gonna run a few tests to make sure. I nodded and let the doctor do his thing.
About a week later we got news from the doctor that I might have something in my lungs (which gave my mom a heart attack) and that I needed to go see him for a X-ray. 
Mom was hysterical when we got back the results. Dad was feeling emotions, which he copes with by busying himself, so he went to his office to sort out our accounts for my medical bills. Jake started checking on me all the time, at school or at home and he never left my side. Naya refused to believe I was sick and started having tantrums every time someone brought it up. 
A small part of me was annoyed at how my family was acting like I was dying, but the truth was, I was dying. 
My friends visited me everyday in the hospital during my last month alive. I was happy for their company of course, but they all looked at me like I was something to enjoy one last time, which I kinda was. They brought my family gifts and Norman acted like a nurse maid to me. I guess the best part was when my crush, Stephen walked into my hospital room. He was wearing black jeans and a blue shirt and he was carrying my food tray. He stayed with me that day for four hours, we played video games, watched a movie and had a lot of fun. At the end of it, Stephen kissed the back of my hand and walked out. 

I remembered all these things as I looked around, everything felt like it was a part of me somehow. I looked one last time at my family. Then I saw a light, guiding me upward. It wasn't a harsh light, more like a welcoming, comforting light. I knew what it meant, it was time to go. I went up, as I did everything, all at once came flashing before my eyes. I heard a voice, smooth and comforting. It told me it was ok, I can let go. I saw my birth, all my birthday parties, all my friends and my family, not just my immediate family but my cousins and aunts and uncles, they were all with me. I smiled, and soon I was smiling at my maker. I asked what would happen to my family. The voice promised they'd be ok. I trust this voice.