angry. He didnât understand why the doctors couldnât help him. He hated that the nurses left him alone. It didnât make sense to him that with all their knowledge and complicated talk and fascinating, shiny instruments, they couldnât do something as simple as fix what was wrong with him. He wanted them to be smarter. He desperately needed them to be smarter. They werenât.
He managed to push one of the drapes aside so that he got a view through the window up near the ceiling. Through the glass he saw stars. He wanted to be outside. He wanted to take a deep breath of fresh, cold air. The thought alone made him cough. The coughing hurt. He wanted the hurt to stop. He didnât care how. Not anymore. He was tired of fighting.
He saw a shadow flash quickly past the window. It got his attention, if only because it was something different to think about. He wondered what it might have been. A bird? A tree branch? A passing airplane? The angel of death? He kept looking, hoping to see it again. It was something to do. The shadow didnât return and Alexander gave up waiting. He wanted to sleep. His chest hurt. He knew his fever was spiking again because he had the shivers. He tensed to fight it, which made his muscles ache all the more.
He called out, âHello?â which made him cough again. The pain tore through his chest and stomach. He stopped calling. He wasnât so sure he wanted help anyway. Whenever his fever spiked, the nurses dunked him in a cold tub of water. He never understood why, if his body temperature was so high, he felt cold. Being dunked into cold water when you were already freezing was a nightmare. He didnât want any more nightmares. He wanted to sleep in peace. He clutched his thin blanket around him and concentrated. He willed himself to relax and clear his mind. He didnât want to be awake. He didnât want to be tortured anymore. He wanted to sleepâ¦and not wake up. Mercifully, sleep came.
When he thought back on that night, which he did many times, Alexander didnât remember if he had any dreams. He remembered the feeling of being totally relaxed. It was such a welcome relief, it was worth remembering. He remembered not shivering anymore. He remembered not feeling pain. He had the vivid memory of thinking that he must have died. It was the only logical explanation for feeling well again. It had been so long, he had almost forgotten what it was like to be pain free. He remembered feeling warmth and light on his face. Was he in heaven? He had to see. Alexander cautiously opened his eyes, expecting to see the pearly gates.
What he saw instead were the same windows of the hospital ward. The only difference was that it was morning. Bright sun shone in, warming his face. He was at peace. He feltâ¦good. But that didnât make sense. He actually wondered if he were still asleep and living inside a dream. There was nothing out of the ordinary happening, other than the fact that he felt so good. Alexander decided that if this was a dream, he was going to take advantage of it. He closed his eyes and took a long, slow inhale through his nose. His lungs expanded. He braced his body, ready to be racked by the horrid coughs.
They didnât come. Alexander let his breath out and took another, this time through his mouth. He filled his lungs with air until they felt ready to burst. He blew the air out and took another so quickly it made him light-headed. It wasnât the dizziness that came from fever, either. It was the result of too much oxygen being sent through a system that wasnât used to getting much at all.
Alexander laughed. He couldnât help himself. It was the best dream heâd ever had. Either that, or heâd died and gone to heaven. He didnât care which. All that mattered was that his head and his lungs were clear.
âAlexander?â came the concerned call of a nurse. âAlexander lad, whyâre you laughing
He managed to push one of the drapes aside so that he got a view through the window up near the ceiling. Through the glass he saw stars. He wanted to be outside. He wanted to take a deep breath of fresh, cold air. The thought alone made him cough. The coughing hurt. He wanted the hurt to stop. He didnât care how. Not anymore. He was tired of fighting.
He saw a shadow flash quickly past the window. It got his attention, if only because it was something different to think about. He wondered what it might have been. A bird? A tree branch? A passing airplane? The angel of death? He kept looking, hoping to see it again. It was something to do. The shadow didnât return and Alexander gave up waiting. He wanted to sleep. His chest hurt. He knew his fever was spiking again because he had the shivers. He tensed to fight it, which made his muscles ache all the more.
He called out, âHello?â which made him cough again. The pain tore through his chest and stomach. He stopped calling. He wasnât so sure he wanted help anyway. Whenever his fever spiked, the nurses dunked him in a cold tub of water. He never understood why, if his body temperature was so high, he felt cold. Being dunked into cold water when you were already freezing was a nightmare. He didnât want any more nightmares. He wanted to sleep in peace. He clutched his thin blanket around him and concentrated. He willed himself to relax and clear his mind. He didnât want to be awake. He didnât want to be tortured anymore. He wanted to sleepâ¦and not wake up. Mercifully, sleep came.
When he thought back on that night, which he did many times, Alexander didnât remember if he had any dreams. He remembered the feeling of being totally relaxed. It was such a welcome relief, it was worth remembering. He remembered not shivering anymore. He remembered not feeling pain. He had the vivid memory of thinking that he must have died. It was the only logical explanation for feeling well again. It had been so long, he had almost forgotten what it was like to be pain free. He remembered feeling warmth and light on his face. Was he in heaven? He had to see. Alexander cautiously opened his eyes, expecting to see the pearly gates.
What he saw instead were the same windows of the hospital ward. The only difference was that it was morning. Bright sun shone in, warming his face. He was at peace. He feltâ¦good. But that didnât make sense. He actually wondered if he were still asleep and living inside a dream. There was nothing out of the ordinary happening, other than the fact that he felt so good. Alexander decided that if this was a dream, he was going to take advantage of it. He closed his eyes and took a long, slow inhale through his nose. His lungs expanded. He braced his body, ready to be racked by the horrid coughs.
They didnât come. Alexander let his breath out and took another, this time through his mouth. He filled his lungs with air until they felt ready to burst. He blew the air out and took another so quickly it made him light-headed. It wasnât the dizziness that came from fever, either. It was the result of too much oxygen being sent through a system that wasnât used to getting much at all.
Alexander laughed. He couldnât help himself. It was the best dream heâd ever had. Either that, or heâd died and gone to heaven. He didnât care which. All that mattered was that his head and his lungs were clear.
âAlexander?â came the concerned call of a nurse. âAlexander lad, whyâre you laughing
Similar Books
