*still in the midst of editing*
_Prologue_______
"We all know why we're here this evening." Jack looked at me and beamed. "We're here tonight to listen to Dr. Darcy and Dr. Andrews." I look up at the podium. It was nearly time. "Now I have the great honor to introduce Will Darcy and Jack Andrews." Jack and I both stood up, and when we did clapping filled the auditorium. It was full with well over 3,000 people, all here to listen to what we had to say.
They want to hear his story. And his story is exactly what we will give them.
Jack and I both walked up the few steps to the stage, both of us taking our time. We knew there was no need to rush. We got up the the podium, and the man standing there smiled at us. He was young, 23 at most. Jack and I must have looked prehistoric to him. 67, what an age. We stood at the podium, looking out at the crowd. Jack cleared his throat, and the man stepped to the side.
"Well, we still don't understand why any of you would choose to listen to some old farts like us," Jack joked, clearing his throat again, as laughter filled the room. I just smiled slightly. "Jack," I say, "I don't really think that they want to listen to us, exactly. They want to hear about him." Jack grinned slightly and nodded. He took a small red napkin from his pocket, and wiped the beads of sweat from his balding head. His old, leathery skin was dotted with thin grey hairs.
"Well, I want to tell you all about a young man. A very interesting young man, who has allowed Jack and I to tell his story. But before I tell his story, I want to tell you something he had described to me. He put it in a letter, so that I could remember it forever." Again a few laughs filled the room. I pulled out the small old wrinkled piece of paper from my jacket pocket. It has been waiting to be read. I read it once years ago to Jack but since then it has stayed hidden. I opened the letter.
"Death. Something we all must go through, we all must face. It envelops us all. You might die young, you might die old. You might die unexpectedly; your death might have been you counting down the days. You might die by your own hands; you might die by the hands of others. No matter how you die, it's a fact. We will all die. Every second a person looses a lie. Every single second. Though I had a chance, I was able to let death pass over me and still be here as it left. Some thought I was blessed. But they were wrong, they were very wrong. Dr. Darcy I give you my consent, with your associate Dr. Andrews, to tell my tale. Tell it to the world. Say every name that is mentioned; say exactly what I put down. Just scream it from the roof tops. This is my only desire."
I looked up from the paper at the audience; they were all attuned to what I was saying. All wanting to hear more. I was not surprised.
"This was written by a Chris Stephen Row. Chris was an amazing man. He was smart, charismatic, athletic, a respectable person. He died though at age 21 in 2005. Though his story does not end there. I want to tell you about what happened after Chris died. For you see, he was still there after he died. Still walking, still talking, still thinking. Still Breathing. So now 27 years later, we're here telling you." I stopped for a second then I let out a chesty cough. Jack took over.
"Chris, where ever you are we just want to thank you. You're story is something that must be told." Jack uttered softly. I knew he was presumably imaging Chris right now sitting in the front row grinning at us; happy that we were telling his story, finally. "I am going to let Will here tell his story. I don't have the heart to do it" Jack declared as he glanced at me. I nodded. "Thank you Jack." I gave him a hug and with that he went to his seat. Jack had Lung cancer from smoking most of his life. His lungs were shot, allowing only a few minutes of standing time.
"So now it's my turn. My turn to tell the story." I laughed as I leaned against the podium. I surveyed the crowd, everyone looked so young. Young doctors and journalists who wanted to find out about this strange convegence Jack and I had set up in honor of some strange unknown boy. "Before I begin, I want to quickly tell you all about myself, well more of a brief summary about myself."
"I was born in a small town in Alabama, raised on a family farm. I went to school and had a standard childhood. My five siblings were all good kids, to tell you the truth. I went to college at Yale and became a doctor specializing in mental health. After I graduated, I went on to working in Chicago for a various amount of years. Somehow I ended up in a small town, the same town Chris lived in. I had meet Jack there 3 years after I had arrived and from then on we were friends. We worked together in the practice. The only difference between us was Jack used to do autopsy, now he was in mental health. Then came the year when I turned 40. This was the year that changed my whole understanding on life. That was the year I meet Chris. I am forever Greatful." I held everyone's attention as I spoke. They all looked at me, probably still wondering what had been wrong with Chris. I let out another long cough.
"I want you to hear Chris's side now. I want you finally know what had happened to Chris Row. Now I will truly begin his story."
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Well I hope you all like the story so far.
Have a wonderful and safe day
~Emilie
YOU ARE READING
Poems and Other Stuff {including plot bunnies}
FanfictionSome poems I wrote a while back. A few stories that I started but later didn't really like. Though I didn't want to get rid of them, for later use. And some other stuff. Yep-
