one shot... it's kinda like just flashed into my mind and so... here it is...
That day, the wet rain pelted on the window sill as if trying to get inside the house. Young Robert Bryar stared outside, watching the little children play in the rain. He just wished he could also, but he obviously can’t afford to leave his mom there, ill and weak.
He heard coughing from behind and since there were only a couple of people in the house, he was downright sure that it was his mom. He really always do this, he got up, poured a glass of water and gave it to his mom. It usually calmed his mother’s lungs but, this time, it failed. She sounds almost coughing her lungs out.
Bob was worried than ever before, he rubbed his mom’s back wishing it would help relieve her. She then lay again on the bed; her coughing seemed to calm a little. He eyed his mother, hopeful for a sign of relief but had found none. Instead, she grabbed her son’s arm like being strangled by an invisible man. Bob started feeling worried again, holding into her other arm and unable to think of what to do.
But then, he started to run for the door, knowing that there was a doctor nearby, just a few blocks away. He grabbed the faulty umbrella and surged in the rain. The umbrella started swinging with the wind but he kept pace, not wanting to lose any time. The few blocks seemed to become miles as the rain finally won against the worn out umbrella. He dropped it and never mind if he got wet, all he ought to do is to get to the doctor quick.
Finally, he could see the house. Just so, he sped up but, unfortunately, his feet slipped. He landed arms first, scraped his hands and probably sprained his ankle. That didn’t stop him; he got up and limped his way to the house. He knocked and a man answered, it was Dr. Martin.
“Gosh, Bob? Is that you?” he asked. “Come inside, you’re soaking.”
“No t-time d-doctor,” the kid chattered. “She’s worse, d-doctor. Y-you need t-to come!”
The doctor knew who he was referring to and by the look of desperation in the kid’s eyes; he finally grabbed his overcoat and went with him. The doctor noticed the limping of the kid and asked, “Maybe you should be treated first, Bob.”
He was replied by a shake of the head and they went on. When they entered the house, Bob suddenly ran to his mother who was sprawled on the bed in a strange position, unconscious. Dr. Martin ran beside the boy to check on his mother’s pulse as a sudden shock revealed itself to the doctor. Should he tell the boy that his mother’s pulse is no slower than a turtle’s step?
“You should ready yourself with what might happen,” said Dr. Martin gloomily as he tried not to show his feelings.
“She’s going to live, right Doc?” Dr. Martin shook his head sadly. “Tell me she will, Doc!” the boy now was screaming, practically because of the shock. “She must! Please tell me! Doc—she will! I... Speak to me!” the doctor knelt before him and grasped his shoulders. He looked into the young boy’s eyes that were filled with tears.
“There is nothing we can do,” he said. “She cannot be transferred to the hospital, that’s a mile away, she will not make it. I don’t have enough time to do something and my apparatus are in the clinic... even if those two things are possible... there’s no cure,” the boy sank in his grip and fell to the ground, sobbing. “Please be with her...” the doctor tried to hide his pain but, cannot hold on apparently.
The boy who tried not to cry was now drowning in tears. The only thing the doctor could do was to make sure his young mind can handle the meaning of death. He could hear the child murmuring under his breath about dreams and waking up but, he couldn’t really put it together.
So, here I am again... You see, this is kind of a one-shot which will sort of "advance to the next level" later in time, and will include the other members of the band. I am seeking for ideas (should be "impossible", PG-13, drama, fantasy, anything related to being unique in the end) and of course, reviews from you... yeah... probably, that's it... thanks again and... yeah... :D