Miracles (Original Group Story)

Miracles (Original Group Story)

Six teens condemned to death within three months are visited by miracles. On a quest to help others with their conditions, will they find what they're looking for?

Chapter 1

Evan Walton

There are times when you feel as if you're in a dream, when everything slows down and all you can think is "is this really happening?" For a moment you can pretend it is merely a fantasy, until reality comes crashing down on you. That's when it hits you. A dousing of cold water wakes you from your dream.

Three months.

I had three months to live.

The man in the white coat informed me as he cast quick glances toward the floor. My mother draped her arms around my shoulders, and for some reason, all I could think about was her getting off of me. I was getting dizzy again. "What?" She breathed.

"A brain tumor," the man said again. "Usually we would operate, but it's so... close to the brain stem. It.. it's five centimeters already," I closed my eyes. "We can keep him here under the best care possible, but the most we can gaurentee is three months- maybe four,"

I shrugged away and wandered to the window. I was only 15. I'd anticipated getting married, having children, going to college... all of that was gone, all in a matter of days.

I stayed in the hospital for the last three months of my life. it was mostly my mother there, and I won't go into detail. Every day was the same. People came in, took my blood pressure, fed meds through the veins in my pale, sickly arms, and rearranged my sheets dilligently.

I hated it. I hated when the nurses looked at me in that sympathetic "poor dying boy" look. I hated when they'd whisper about me just outside my door, unaware that I could hear.

Let's pity the dying kid. He won't be alive for much longer.

I did't want their pity. I wanted them to do something. There had to be something.

MRI scans, neurological tests, canvassing of medical history. Nothing happened, and in just a few months, the tumor was six centimeters in diameter.

93 days after that fateful diagnosis, I was ready to die. I had fits every other day where I became a seizing mass of nothingness. My head hurt almost all the time. It almost seemed a blessing to die.

I wrapped myself up in a blanket and prepared to escape the constant pain and seizures. My mother leaned over and kissed my forehead. My father clasped my shoulder and held my mother- he was there for once. He decided to attend his son's death. They'd gone to speak with a doctor when it happened.

A burst of blue light emerged in the corner of the room. It moved towards me gracefully, as if a being of it's own. It's firework like tendrils reached for me, and I thought it was another hallucination... except it wasn't accompanied by headache or drooling.

The light stretched further still, until I felt a cold touch on my upper arm. I gasped, and all of a sudden, it was gone. A hallucination, I assured myself. Nothing more than a side effect of death. But for the first time in three months, I wasn't in pain...

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