| Original Message |
Sona
Posted Jul 6, 2006 2:51 AM
(It just so happened I had a story beginning itself in my brain when I sat down at the computer and somehow stumbled onto the BG again, so I shall be presumptuous and jump into this café with the start of this little tale. Heehee, doesn’t look like there are too many people to get mad if I do anyhow.)
Oh! It’s you! I hadn’t recognized you since you’ve changed so much. What has it been? 30 years? I haven’t changed at all? Well, that’s true… No, not entirely true, I have changed a little. I was alive the last time you saw me.
I saw it. You were just about to say you didn’t believe me. But you have to believe me, and you know you do. I still look like the boy you knew in High School, and you; you are starting to go over the hill. Not that you don’t look good though, trust me, you do.
What happened to me? If you look up the police report of my death, it will say the Cascade Mountain Killer got me. In reality, he’s the one that saved me. My parents killed me, really. Indirectly, you could say it was my little brother that did it.
It was because my little brother was a genius. One of those super smart prodigy children. He would be on the fast track to Harvard, even staying in the pathetic excuse for a public school we went to. My parents, of course, wanted him to go to a better school. One that would actually be capable of teaching him something. Maybe he could even skip grades and graduate early. He could become anything, and it would probably be something great. The child every parent dreams of.
The problem was, good schools cost money, and my family did not have a whole lot of it. Lower middle class, ya know? They would be able to pull it off, but it would be a financial strain.
Then I had to go and ruin everything. I got sick. Really sick. The doctors said it was some type of cancer. I could never pronounce the name, let alone remember it. I had been practically living in the hospital for going on three months. The medical insurance was insufficient, and the bills were piling up. I heard one of the doctors tell my parents that the only hope of me living through the year was some sort of therapy coupled with some surgery, (I could only hear bits and pieces) and even then, the odds of my survival was really low.
It was a week later that my parents got me released from the hospital for a weekend trip. My condition was fairly stable and the doctors thought it would be good for me to get out for a bit, so long as I didn’t strain myself. Unfortunately, my little brother had some soccer practice that he couldn’t miss, or he would not be allowed to play in the upcoming championship game, my parents informed me. Since I had loved camping, they suggested we take a drive through the Cascade Mountains the next state over.
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