I make my way to where the sound is and find Dave groaning in pain with Nicholas trying to help him out. "What happened to him?" I quip, trying to figure out what the problem could be while searching for any wounds around.
"He just fell over..."
"Pills....Dave where do you keep your pills?" He points at a room just across the kitchen which i go into searching for anything that reduces pain. Im panicking and All these medical terms and words are fucking with my head and so i just decide to take everything and ask the man himself. Or Nicholas, that's if he knows anything helpful.
"Dave is this th-the one?" I hold it up for him to see but he shakes his head so i pick out another, "this one?" He shakes his head again.
Nicholas picks two bottles and finds one that looks quiet farmiliar to him. "It's this one, right?" Dave nods and takes down a pill from the bottle as quick as he possibly can. Nicholas offers him a full glass of water and helps him get up.
"Thank you." Dave whispers, out of breathe, placing his hands all over his body as if checking if he's still in one piece. "Did you know he's suffering from cancer?"
"How'd you know it's cancer?"
"My late grandma had it. I know it's cancer." He explains getting up. "Your father's dying man. Does your family know?" Dave strugles to get up but when he finally does he directly faces Nicholas.
"Thank you for your help but..." he clears his throat, "My family. Don't come around sticking your nose and saying your opinions as if you're family. I'm sorry but it would really... also be helpful if you shut up about it." He turns to me so that i can help him walk back to his room for a little rest.
Nicholas follows us anyways and helps me rest him on the bed. "You can go and enjoy the party...plus mom was expecting you so you better go say 'hi'."
After he leaves, i sit beside the bed watching Dave pretend he's not having difficulty breathing. When i ask if he needs anything he simply smiles and shakes his head as if he's looking foward to dying soon.
"Tell me a poem...you've read about in your english literature class." I go through poems in my head and the only one that keeps popping up in my head is Rain by Edward Thomas. The speaker is man who had served in the army during the first wolrd war in the trenches. He talks about how he looks forward to death and wishes none of his family memebrs go through the pain and solitude that surrounds him during this time he spends in the trenches.
I bet that's whats going on in Dave's head right now, who knows how guilty he could be feeling right now?
"How about... On Finding a Small Fly Crushed by a Book...i don't remember who wrote it." I admit so he chuckles and gets ready to listen." The poem goes...
'Some hand, that never meant to do thee hurt,
Has crushed thee here between these pages pent;
But thou has left thine own fair monument,
Thy wings gleam out and tell me what thou wert:
Oh! That the memories, which survive us here,
Were half as lovely as these wings of thine!
Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine
Now thou art gone: our doom is ever near:
The peril is beside us day by day;
The book will close upon us, it may be,
Just as we lift ourselves to soar away
Upon the summer-airs. But, unlike thee,
The closing book may stop our vital breathe,
Yet leave no lustre on our page of death.
I explain a few main points of the poem to him and explain why i chose it. "Basically it talks about how everyone's gonna get crushed in the book of death. But because of humanity, you won't leave a mark on that book like the fly did with it's shimering wings." I take his hand, looking straight into his eyes and say, "My interpretation of the poem is different...may be almost similar but i think it means that your actions in this life won't make a mark on the book so...stop feeling guilty. Stop worrying over small things."
A beam appears on his face as he reaches out for my shoulder. "You're smart," He jokes and goes back to sleep, "I'll try." He points out just before i hear him snore. I probably said the most silly thing ever just a few minutes ago yet he understands my point. Maybe i am smart and should really start paying attention during English Literature.
Once I'm sure he's fast asleep, i go back to the back yard hoping mom and Pete hadn't noticed i had gone missing for a while. Nicholas is just chilling by the pool as if he wasn't the one panicking back in there. To be honest, he never really talks about his pain or sorrows. All he does is boast about money, riches, girls and other silly stuff. 'I hope his grandmother's death doesn't really bother him' i pray, as i go over to mom to tell her I'm tired and want to back home, I've had enough drama and worry for today.
YOU ARE READING
Absquatulate
General Fiction16year old Riley Evans lives through his slow life, dealing with his parent's seperation from a young age and rejection from society. Out of the blue, his father decides to come back into his life, bringing more problems.
