Midnight Memories (Niall Horan)

Chapter 6

Sam is 87, Niall is 89

Memory #1

Niall had always been a firm believer of miracles. They didn't have to necessarily be the kind saints did to ensure them a spot in heaven. They didn't even have to be big enough to have their own article on the local paper. He just believed miracles happened every day.

And to him, his greatest miracle of all was Sam's recovery.

It was just an ordinary day. She was reading another book from the tall pile of books next to her bed. He was in the small balcony of her hospital room, his camera slung over his neck. If it weren't for the fact that it was another day of Sam fighting for her life, this scene would have looked like something from their old lives.

Their new lives weren't so bad either though. Again, cancer aside. Niall resigned from work, packed their bags and stayed with Sam. And although visiting hours were only until eight in the evening, most of the staff were too overwhelmed by the situation of the old couple to tell Niall to go home.

Those were their lives for several years: bland. That was, of course, until Dr. Richard Nichols, Sam's assigned doctor and a very good friend of Jamie's, came in with good news. Apparently, her positive attitude throughout the years played a big role in her healing by helping her respond well to treatment. Her optimism kept her immune system strong and made it easier for chemotherapy to target cancer cells.

In Richard's words, 'She saved her own life by choosing to stay alive.'

Staying alive wasn't easy. This, Sam could share by firsthand experience. She was nearing Stage IV. The cancer had spread to several organs in her body. If truth be told, most of the doctors said she wasn't supposed to have herself another two years, let alone ten.

To them, she was a lost cause. But the next thing they knew, she was back in their little bungalow. Happy. Healthy. A Cancer survivor at sixty-four.

For the next several years, they were happy. They watched their grandchildren, Marie and Nathan, grow up in grace. And every Thursday, the two families had dinner together. Niall and Jamie would cook. Sam, Hannah and the two children would watch a film. Sam's favourite part, however, was when they sat in front of the fireplace and told stories to catch up with one another's lives. It was a way for her to knit together her life before the cancer and her life after.

But sadly, some things were too good to be true.

So, after twenty-three peaceful years devoted to spending as much time as she could with her family, Sam had a relapse, and they were back in the familiar hospital room that had sheltered them for a decade.

This time, though, it seemed like Sam was too weak to get back up.

"Hey," Niall stopped reading the newspaper when he caught Sam's eyelids flutter gently. He folded it, set it on the table next to his coffee and walked to her, taking a seat on the stool beside her bed. She groped the sheets for his hand which he quickly clamped around hers.

Her hand felt so frail in his sturdy one and Niall gulped, not letting this small detail bother him. "I was just reading an article about the company. Mark held a fundraiser earlier today to help pay for your hospital bill."

Sam laughed weakly. The tubes that stuck out her nostrils and met just above her upper lip before parting to coil behind her ears gave a slight swooshing sound as they quickly replaced the oxygen she lost just by laughing. "Tell him to use the money on a nice car instead. I won't be needing it."

She sighed and closed her eyes gently. Seconds passed, and Sam continued to just lay still. It was almost like she was ready to...

Niall released her hand, his mind awhirl. He didn't care if she was ready, because he wasn't. He walked to a corner of the room and discreetly took out his handphone, dialing Jamie's number. His son picked up on the first ring. Niall knew it was because every time his caller ID appeared, Jamie expected the worst.