I would just tell you to go read the story, but I know most of you won't do even that, and it's important you all hear this. So skip it if you'd like, because it is rather depressing, but still least read the last part. Thank you.
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Heavy breathing fogged up the plastic that was held in place over the four-year-old's mouth by a baby blue strap that laid underneath the tail of his blonde hair and making contact with his ever-paling skin. Beeping from a monitor tracking the child's fading heartrate blared in the ears of every family member in the room.
Matthew was terminally ill with some mysterious sickness that no doctor seemed to be able to identify, but his malnurishment and small size had sped up a weaker disease that could've been dealt with if his parents had listened to the pained crying that occurred nearly every night for two years on end, or if his siblings had intervened whenever someone punished him for getting into the refrigerator for extra food that he obviously needed more than anyone else in the house. Now the child was in a coma, laying in a hospital bed twice his size both ways, covered in sweat and struggling to stay alive to continue struggling in a world that apparently wanted him dead as that carcass on the side of the road that you barely even glance at anymore. His room was empty of anyone who might care about the dying kid, devoid of flowers, 'get well soon' cards, balloons, or any personalization for the youngster's comfort, which wouldn't matter if the little one never opened his eyes to the unfamiliar area.
Unbeknownst to the nurses that occasionally checked on the child living out his last moments with tears streaming down his cheeks and painfully ragged breaths dragging out of his half-open mouth, Matt believed he was sitting next to his log in the woods, petting the spotted fawn that sometimes came around with her ever-vigilent mother. His imaginary hands stroked over the soft, familiar fur of a child who was better off than the mute one she hung around whenever the opportunity arose. Something spooked the creatures, and, quick as a flash of lightening, began bounding off into the darkening forest while the little one closed his eyes and focused his ears on locating the sound and figuring out what it was. Matthew's sharp ears couldn't pick out a single thing, so his blue eyes again opened to observe their surroundings, this time looking out to see a boy around ten years with soft brown eyes and hair of a lighter color, as well as a tiny bruise on his cheek that blended his freckles almost non-existent. The small child's eyes filled up with tears like his real self, and he stumbled to his feet, desperately flinging himself towards the apparition that was his dead brother, Tom, who had left his defenseless little brother more than a year ago. Tommy wrapped his ghostly arms around his younger sibling as tightly as his state allowed and a bright smile lit up his pale, faded face as he comforted the child, who didn't understand that his brain was trying to comfort him. The kiddo opened and closed his mouth desperately in happiness, clutching at the older boy and snuggling into his shirt with his head to ensure he'd never leave the little one again.
In the real world, the machine's beeping increased as the child's body reacted physically to the manifestation of his thoughts in the form of a dream in his head. The sound went unnoticed by the lack of family sitting in the room, the lack of any care.
"Oh, Matty, it's okay," the older brother rubbed his hauntly thumb over the tears coming from the kid's bright blue eyes to remove and quell them as best as possible. "I'm here now. You're safe again." The child promised the littler one before him, to which he was hugged even harder as a thanks in the most effective way Matthew new to work. Their one sided conversation continued for a while, consisting of Tom offering comforting words and promises to never leave again while the smaller wept and squeezed his brother ever tighter than the time before. Eventually, the two sat together on the ground and reminisced about the times they had spent together before the older had passed on.
"Remember the time we stole a bag of groceries and hid it in your closet? Tommy said thoughtfully, to his question he received a blissfully ignorant smile. Matthew had always been ignorant of the bad things in his life, the beatings, the starvation, the lack of care - all of it. His older brother had tried his hardest to ensure that he hadn't had to worry about the reality of the youngest child's status in the family, though it had literally been the death of him. Tom would steal extra portions of a meal to save for his little bro, regardless of the possibilities of the punishment he would take for caring for a child that everyone else expected to take care of himself. Whenever he was caught, the boy was brutalized by whoever it was that decided to tattle or hurt him themself, beaten by siblings or parents in order to punish him and keep him from repeating the action. That's how he'd died - protecting his younger brother from a worse harm from their father.
Matt's little hand reached up to poke the bigger boy in the arm to gain back his attention.
"Matty... I want you to come home with me. To the clouds, up in the sky. It's your time." Tommy stood up, pulling the younger child to his feet with his own momentum, then took a step towards where he had come from, away from the little kid, and held one hand out to him.
A nurse walked in to check on the boy just as the child - in his comatose dream - took the hand of his brother and began to walk towards the path of the stars, the path to heaven. At that exact moment, the machine let out a long tone that gave the conclusion that the kid had flatlined, and the hospital staff freaked and went to collect the right people to assist the child. Doctors took turns trying to resuscitate Matthew as he followed his dead brother while nurses came into the room with the device required to kickstart his heart. Two white pads were set on the child's motionless chest and a shock administered through them multiple times in an attempt to breath life into a beaten body.
'Tommy!' the mute boy cried as he tugged on the hand he held each time the pain over his chest jerked into feeling, though the older just let go of his hand and smiled a gentle smile.
"Go home. You're needed there."
The order came and went as the world faded from Matthew's view and his body snapped back into the real world with a gasp as the dead child awoke to a room full of medical staff that cared wether or not his life passed on, regardless of if his parents or family cared as well.
Matthew would keep fighting for a place in a world that didn't want him. He hopes you will too.
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If you can't tell, I would've killed Matt. He was a version of me, believe it or not, the version I wanted to give freedom from this world through death. I couldn't do it. You wouldn't believe how many tears I shed writing this, and I hope you understand how much it means to me. There is someone who loves each and every one of you, and it's not your time yet. The world will beat and drag you down any chance it gets, but you should only let that strengthen you, polish you like a stone. You're never alone in this. No matter how hard, no matter how impossible, there's always a reason. You're meant to stay, and we all love you here. <3
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Úlfheónar & Støkka // RANDOMNESS 2.0
RandomHello good friends of mine? We've officially gotten to 2.0!
