Sadness and Sunshine

Chapter 12

When the movie was over, we were both tired. Frank had eaten a lot of popcorn and candy and I could see the sickness written on his face. He bit his lip and looked at me, then looked down at the bed.

"We should go to bed," he breathed, not looking well. "I'll be right back."

I watched as Frank crawled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom slowly. I knew he wasn't feeling well, so I listened to make sure he wasn't throwing up. When 5 minutes passed and he wasn't out yet, I put my ear against the bathroom door. The sink was running, but under the sound of the water running, sure enough, Frank was getting violently sick again. I knocked on the door and in response, Frank weakly whined "help me".

Within seconds I was by Frank's side, rubbing his back and making sure he didn't get any vomit on his clothes. He choked again and a lot of blood was coming up. I was alarmed by the amount of blood and held his shaking hand, both of us crying by that point. I was terrified and he was in pain. There was nearly no end to the blood coming out of his small body, and just when I thought it would never end, he fell to the side, panting, shaking, and crying.

I got a wet towel for Frank and cleaned him up, holding his small body up since he was limp. His breathing was far from regular and his pulse wasn't quite right either. I looked at him, wide eyed.

"Frank are you okay?" I yelled, shaking him gently.

Frank swallowed thickly and nodded, though he looked far from okay and he was getting very feverish. He couldn't keep his eyes open and when he did manage to open his eyes, he looked straight past me. I leaned him up against the wall and got him a drink of water, kneeling beside him and shaking him.

"Stay with me. We're going home in just a few hours, you can't go now."

I was full on sobbing, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. Frank was barely responding and eventually closed his eyes. His breathing was very slow and things didn't feel right. The air in the bathroom became cold and settled on us both like some kind of evil blanket. I checked Frank's pulse and it was nowhere near what it needed to be. For the first time in quite a long time, I prayed.

Dear God, don't take Frank. Not now.

It wasn't much, but I repeated the same thing over and over, checking Frank's pulse again every second to make sure he was still there. He was somehow still hanging on and I propped him up against the wall to see if it would help his breathing. I stroked his hair and put the wet rag on his forehead, keeping his body close to me to make sure he was supported. His breathing picked up again, slowly at first. Nothing was back to normal but it was a start.

I watched the clock ticking for a long time, keeping my fingers pressed against Frank's neck to make sure his pulse was still going. It was there, but still wasn't as fast or thick as it should be. After a little while, I assumed he'd fallen asleep. He wasn't dead, at least not yet.

Dear God, not yet.