They aren't real, right?
I was floating through a world of hazy darkness, and I was completely alone. As I traveled through this mysterious place I began to catch glimpses of faces. Some were people I barely knew, but slowly I began to see the people I loved. I saw my grandmother, Mikey, Ray, and Bob, one after the other.
“Hey!” I yelled. “What’s going on?” But slowly the faces faded into the mist.
“Don’t leave me!” I cried out in despair. Suddenly all the mist began to disappear and I fell through the air. I landed on an invisible floor with a thump. Groggily I stood up, and there in front of me was Frank. He was suspended in the air like a puppet. His eyes were closed and he hung limp. I ran to him, but just before I reached him, his strings were cut and he collapsed onto the floor. As I fell to my knees at his side, he began to dissolve away. I clutched at him desperately, but I couldn’t keep him there. I was left alone, with the darkness and my pain.
“Sir,” a voice called through the haze.
“Hello?” I answered hopefully, wishing for someone to share in my solitude.
“Sir please wake up,” an exasperated voice asked. Then my dreaming was broken. I awoke to a chubby nurse with red hair shaking me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m awake.”
“We have the test results from Frank and the doctor would like to see you about them.”
“Thank you,” I answered fervently. Now I could find out what had happened to my Frankie. The dream had shaken me, but it wasn’t real.
“Come this way,” the nurse beckoned.
I followed her into one of the identical white rooms. Inside Frank was lying fast asleep on a white bed with white sheets. I hated hospitals. Everything just smelled wrong, even though it was so clean. I shuddered, but just then the doctor entered the room. He was going bald and his squinty eyes were covered by wire rim glasses, he had a friendly look about him. My fears were forgotten, for the moment.
“What’s wrong with Frank,” I demanded.
“You may want to sit down sir,” the unsmiling doctor suggested.
“No!” I cried. “What’s happened to him?”
“Well,” the doctor began. “We ran some MRI and CAT scans on him, and we discovered the source of his headaches. He has a very large tumor growing on his brain. Normally I would operate and remove it, but it has been neglected for too long. If I even tried to cut through his skull, the pressure on his brain would kill him instantly.”
“What does that mean?” I asked hesitantly.
“The tumor will eventually grow so large that it will move his brain on its own and he will die. I have relieved the pressure as well as I could, but the tumor is just too large. It is up to you what to do, but I personally would only bring him back for relief of tension if the headaches get too bad. If we attempt to do anything more it will kill him. As it is now I can see him living another three or four weeks.”
I sunk into the nearest chair with a groan. I couldn’t control my limbs any longer.
“No,” I whispered.
“Do you have his parent’s information, so we may contact them,” the doctor asked with sympathy in his eyes.
“He lives with me now,” I barely managed to answer. “His parents don’t want him.”
“What is your relation to him?” the doctor continued with his relentless questioning.
“He is….my boyfriend,” I choked out, then I lost control and my racking sobs ripped my body apart.
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