Stories (Drafts or Full)

Prompt One

"Your hugs heal people. But it comes with a cost. It decreases your own lifespan by 5%. Only the richest of the rich come to see you. You have cured clients with Cancer, AIDS, Incurable diseases, and more. However, those poor children dying in the hospital, the urge to help them eats you alive. You are getting depressed as you can't stand the injustice any longer. You set out to visit a hospital for children with terminal illnesses. You write two words on a piece of cardboard: Free Hugs."

 "All right Mr. Frespin. You should be fine now." I say with a slight grimace, feeling a little weak for just a moment. Soon the feeling passes and I turn to my client.

"Thank you, sir. I am indebted to you for your humble service." He holds out his hand for a handshake. This handshake seems more firm than the last, so that must mean he's feeling much stronger than before.

"Don't mention it," I say, sitting down in my chair nearby. 

Mr. Frespin talks for a little longer before turning to leave, a spring in his step as he walks out to his car. I feel a momentary burst of happiness before it quickly fades away. 

It doesn't feel right anymore honestly. The rich come to me, begging I save them, and then they suck my life force away. Sure, they pay me. But it doesn't feel right. It feels like I'm there way out from death.

There are so many other people I could be helping... And why don't I?

Well, for starters, I only have so much I can do. There's only so much of me I can give. 5% of me is taken away each time I hug someone. I know, it sounds so impossible. I don't know how it happened, and no one really told me, but somehow I figured it out. Ever since, people have come to me for help.

I know that not many childhood friends I hugged could've had some incurable disease, but on the off chance they did, I knock off another 5%. Recently, I've started to keep track of all my hugs. I'm down to 75%. From my clients to close friends, I've been giving out plenty of hugs. 

I wish I had more life to spend helping out those less fortunate. It's something I always consider. I have the whole thing planned out if I were to ever go through with it. There is a terminal hospital for children in the city near my home. I'd go there, the biggest smile I can muster on my face as I tell everyone: 

"Free hugs." 

I would like to think no one would understand, and that they think I'm just being a friendly visitor, but that they'd find out they're healed. The only thing I worry about is not being able to get to everyone in the unit. 

If there is truly 75% left in me, I might be able to get through everyone. 

===

Today's the day. I've called all my clients, wishing them the best in their lives and to live it to the fullest. I have no family to call, so I call close friends. I tell them the same advice I've told my clients, to live life. 

And now, I will do the same. 

I can't stand it. The children in that hospital have lives to live too, and they should have the freedoms to do so, not to be dragged down by their illnesses. 

Standing up, I grab my sign. I've made it look as appealing as possible. Smiles and stars everywhere. I don't mind if something it's funny. I know that a few children will enjoy it. 

Here I am, walking down the street to make it to the city. So many cars drive by me, and I wonder how many of them are going home, or to work. I wonder how many of them know that their life is beautiful and precious. 

I'm just outside. I take a breath then walk indoors. 

"Hello sir. Are you here for anyone in particular?" A nice looking lady in the reception area asks me.

"Yes ma'am. Could you point me toward the terminal wing?" I ask, a sympathetic tone in my voice.

"Of course, sir. Down that hall." She points to a door to my left, and I begin walking. After a minute, I find myself in a circular room. There are at least 15 children in this room. 

I look around the room, seeing many children in worse shape than other children, but knowing that all of them are going to end up the same way without a miracle. Or me. 

The nurses take a quick glance at me, one of them walking over to me and speaking in a hushed tone.

"Excuse me, sir. What are you doing in here?" He says to me, a confused tone in his voice. I match his pitch and say,

"I want to wish the kids a little hope. Is that alright?" I take a moment to show him my sign. I see his understanding glance and he takes a moment. 

After a minute or so of silence, he nods and allows me to go.

I stand in the middle of the room. The nurse that had talked to me starts going room to room, telling the children they're going to go for a little walk around the wing. Once children start sluggishly walking out of their rooms, I hold up the sign.

A little girl in a wheelchair notices me first. Her face lights up with a certain happiness as she asks to come over to me.

"Do you really want to hug us?" She asks with a small smile. I give her a smile and speak.

"Absolutely little lady. Every single one of you."

Her face lights up as she reaches up to give me a hug. I bend down and give her a tight hug until I feel the weakening in my knees. I let go after another moment then speak. 

"1 hug down, 14 more to go." She smiles brightly as she sits back to watch.  

Then, there's another little boy walking up to me. Then two more girls. Another boy. And so many more children. 

Before I know it, I've gone through 13 children. I have just one more. 

This little boy comes to me. He can't be more than ten years old and he's the last. I'm on my knees, feeling weaker than I think I could ever imagine. I can tell the nurses are just as confused as anyone would be. 

Slowly, they start filing children back into their rooms. Soon, they'll know though, and these children can go home.

I bend down to the little boy and give him the tightest hug I can muster, feeling a numbing feeling roll through my body as I pull away from the hug. The boy has a smile on his face as he lets go, a shine in his eyes. 

My feet and ankles go numb as another nurse guides the boy back to his room. Now, my calves go numb. Then thighs. Then waist. 

All of a sudden, I start hearing children calling out "Thank you"' for their hugs. They hope I'll visit them again soon. 

My arms start to go numb next as I put a smile on my face.

This is exactly how I imagine joy to feel. A completed, meaningful life. All these children will live long and healthy. I feel so incredibly happy, and I wish I had so much more time to spend here. I know I can't though. And that's okay.

The numbness has spread almost completely around me. I don't think I'm on my knees anymore, but frankly, I can't tell anymore. My vision is going and my breathing is shallow. I know the nurses must be rushing around to get me away from there. Maybe they think I'm a creep or psycho. 

But maybe the children will know. Maybe they'll know the truth. One day, they'll realize that the day I came to visit, was the day their whole wing was healed. 

These kids will experience life.

What a beautiful miracle.