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There's swearing in this, sorry. Just felt it added to atmosphere. If you're of a non-swearing background, don't read. I have no responsbility for how hard your parents will hit you if they catch you reading this. Even though it's hardly any swearing anyway. Never mind, here's something.
16:21
Life is just a story. You get born, you die. The bit in the middle is whatever you want it to be.
And what's more? Your story is one in billions today, and more than that, yours is God knows how many that have ever been. So why should your story matter? Why should anyone care what you've done? What makes you different?
And more importantly, why should it matter that it's true?
Andy twisted the piece of nail around in his mouth... he always got nervous in hospitals.
The lift stopped at the seventh floor, and he stepped out into the smell that hit him straight on... death, mixed with disinfectent.
Hospitals were like warzones. People just lying around, waiting to die, others still fighting on...
"Andy? Hey!..." The man in the bed said through a rusty throat, and coughed. He sat up. "How are you?"
"Never mind me, how are you?" Andy said... The man's name was Craig. He had been diagnosed with lung cancer. He was going to die just like everyone else, just earlier. He was twenty four.
"Bit cold, like." Craig patted his bald head. "Ba***rd chemotherapy, eh? You know about that crap though, don't you! Ha!"
"Heh, yeah." Andy replied, automatically.
"You know, it had got me thinking." Craig grated out.
"What has?"
"You, having lung cancer when you were fifteen. I mean... do you have any sort of idea how much strength you've given me? Knowing you had to go through all this crap and pulled through?"
Andy just smiled.
"You never said much about this ******* pain though... Jesus!" Craig said... Andy could hardly hear what he was saying... just hearing Craig's breathing getting louder and louder... each breath seeming heavier than the last. "I'm having my left lung taken out on Saturday, hopefully it won't spread to the right, like yours did... you were so lucky to find a transplant, especially so young too."
"I bought you some flowers. You know, because that's what people do." Andy said.
"Bet you got craploads of flowers when you were in hospital!" Craig said, and coughed some. "At your age too, hell! I can't imagine myself having to go through with his crap when I was that old. It was hard enough seeing Man U lose a match!"
"Heh, yeah, well, get well soon and stuff."
"Yeah, no worries... doubt I'll heal as fast as you though, but I'll give it a shot!"
Andy looked down on Craig, desperately wishing he was the one lying in the bed instead.
"Bye man."
"Hey, you gonna come back?" Craig shouted.
"Yeah." Andy replied. "I think I've been gone long enough."
Craig coughed at the remark, unable to ask what Andy meant as he left the room...
"Hey Andy, visiting Craig?"
Andy flinched at his name... it was another of Craig's friends, Paul, visiting. "Err, yeah, just seen him now."
"I bet he was glad to see you," Paul said... "I mean... give him the support, you being through all this before and all."
"Yeah, he seemed pretty glad to see me. I've really got to go."
"Oh... ok... well... hey... Andy?"
"Yeah?"
"You alright? You look like you're about to cry."
"I'm alright."
"Bringing back bad memories?" Paul asked, sympathetically.
"SHUT UP!" Andy yelled. "SHUT THE **** UP!"
A nurse breathed in at shock, and quickly rushed over to where they were.
"Please can you not raise your voice, or swear, please!" The nurse said, keeping her voice down.
"Sorry... it was my fault." Paul said. "He doesn't have good memories of hospitals. His friend in there has the same thing when he was a child."
Andy started breathing heavily, and walked towards the lift... he pressed the button, the lift didn't open, so he pushed the doors of the stairs wide open and strode through, still breathing heavily.
"Andy? Is that you? Craig's friend?"
Andy span around, just as he was about to leave the hospital for good, out of breath, his head spinning. An old couple were sat outside the newsagents, a woman gently sobbing into tissues, and an old grey man.
"I'm Craig's dad... I guess you've just been up to see him."
"Yeah, I... I have, yes, I really have to go, I'm sorry."
"Please..." The grey man said. "I just wanted to say thank you."
"Don't thank me, please don't thank me..."
"No, really... you've kept him going. The thought of you going through what he's going through now, the thought of having such a hard time at that age, it's kept him strong. I really don't know what he'd be like if he wasn't for you..."
"I NEVER HAD CANCER! I NEVER HAD ******* CANCER!" Andy said, tears pouring out of his red face...
Craig's dad just stared at him. As did most people on the lower level of the hospital.
"You never had cancer?..." He said, finally. "But you lost both your lungs..."
"I made it up. I need the attention. I made it up. Please leave me alone."
Andy walked out of the building, the eyes of hundreds watching his every move, and suddenly, his story was real. The first thing he had done that would ever matter.
He walked out, walking onwards past the car park towards the motorway. There was no point now, no point at all.
Cars zoomed past from the right.
Andy tried to think of his life. Something solid he could care for.
"ANDY! ANDY!"
Andy turned. Craig's dad was running up behind him.
Andy sat on the ground, feeling the wind pushing against him from the cars speeding past... Craig's dad walked straight up to him.
"It doesn't matter. I don't care if you had cancer or not." He said.
Andy blinked, and looked up. "What?"
"All that matters..." He said, getting his breath back... "Is that you have inspired our son to fight for his life. I can't repay you enough for that."
"But it was all a lie..." Andy said. "It was just a story I made up. I so desperately wanted to be different to everybody... I just needed the excuse to be able to think of myself as someone else..."
"The past is a story, your whole life is a story." Craig's dad said, bending down and putting his hands on his knees. "If your story can inspire people, then who cares if it's true or not."
Andy looked up at him, a complete silence seeming to echo through his mind.
"If you can give faith to someone, then who cares how you do it? Who cares how many lies you tell, or stories you make up. Just making someone believe in themselves is all you ever need do. You can have whatever past you want, and you can change lives."
-----------
"Andy! Hey! Didn't expect to see you again so soon."
Andy threw the baseball hat down on the bed. "Well, plenty of people came to see me when I went through this, I guess you deserve the same too. I'll come see you every day, I promise."
"A hat! Fantastic." Craig said, coughing. He picked up the baseball cap and put it on his bald head. "Thanks man!"
"Heh, no worries." Andy said. "Just keep strong, yeah?"
16:21
Life is just a story. You get born, you die. The bit in the middle is whatever you want it to be.
And what's more? Your story is one in billions today, and more than that, yours is God knows how many that have ever been. So why should your story matter? Why should anyone care what you've done? What makes you different?
And more importantly, why should it matter that it's true?
Andy twisted the piece of nail around in his mouth... he always got nervous in hospitals.
The lift stopped at the seventh floor, and he stepped out into the smell that hit him straight on... death, mixed with disinfectent.
Hospitals were like warzones. People just lying around, waiting to die, others still fighting on...
"Andy? Hey!..." The man in the bed said through a rusty throat, and coughed. He sat up. "How are you?"
"Never mind me, how are you?" Andy said... The man's name was Craig. He had been diagnosed with lung cancer. He was going to die just like everyone else, just earlier. He was twenty four.
"Bit cold, like." Craig patted his bald head. "Ba***rd chemotherapy, eh? You know about that crap though, don't you! Ha!"
"Heh, yeah." Andy replied, automatically.
"You know, it had got me thinking." Craig grated out.
"What has?"
"You, having lung cancer when you were fifteen. I mean... do you have any sort of idea how much strength you've given me? Knowing you had to go through all this crap and pulled through?"
Andy just smiled.
"You never said much about this ******* pain though... Jesus!" Craig said... Andy could hardly hear what he was saying... just hearing Craig's breathing getting louder and louder... each breath seeming heavier than the last. "I'm having my left lung taken out on Saturday, hopefully it won't spread to the right, like yours did... you were so lucky to find a transplant, especially so young too."
"I bought you some flowers. You know, because that's what people do." Andy said.
"Bet you got craploads of flowers when you were in hospital!" Craig said, and coughed some. "At your age too, hell! I can't imagine myself having to go through with his crap when I was that old. It was hard enough seeing Man U lose a match!"
"Heh, yeah, well, get well soon and stuff."
"Yeah, no worries... doubt I'll heal as fast as you though, but I'll give it a shot!"
Andy looked down on Craig, desperately wishing he was the one lying in the bed instead.
"Bye man."
"Hey, you gonna come back?" Craig shouted.
"Yeah." Andy replied. "I think I've been gone long enough."
Craig coughed at the remark, unable to ask what Andy meant as he left the room...
"Hey Andy, visiting Craig?"
Andy flinched at his name... it was another of Craig's friends, Paul, visiting. "Err, yeah, just seen him now."
"I bet he was glad to see you," Paul said... "I mean... give him the support, you being through all this before and all."
"Yeah, he seemed pretty glad to see me. I've really got to go."
"Oh... ok... well... hey... Andy?"
"Yeah?"
"You alright? You look like you're about to cry."
"I'm alright."
"Bringing back bad memories?" Paul asked, sympathetically.
"SHUT UP!" Andy yelled. "SHUT THE **** UP!"
A nurse breathed in at shock, and quickly rushed over to where they were.
"Please can you not raise your voice, or swear, please!" The nurse said, keeping her voice down.
"Sorry... it was my fault." Paul said. "He doesn't have good memories of hospitals. His friend in there has the same thing when he was a child."
Andy started breathing heavily, and walked towards the lift... he pressed the button, the lift didn't open, so he pushed the doors of the stairs wide open and strode through, still breathing heavily.
"Andy? Is that you? Craig's friend?"
Andy span around, just as he was about to leave the hospital for good, out of breath, his head spinning. An old couple were sat outside the newsagents, a woman gently sobbing into tissues, and an old grey man.
"I'm Craig's dad... I guess you've just been up to see him."
"Yeah, I... I have, yes, I really have to go, I'm sorry."
"Please..." The grey man said. "I just wanted to say thank you."
"Don't thank me, please don't thank me..."
"No, really... you've kept him going. The thought of you going through what he's going through now, the thought of having such a hard time at that age, it's kept him strong. I really don't know what he'd be like if he wasn't for you..."
"I NEVER HAD CANCER! I NEVER HAD ******* CANCER!" Andy said, tears pouring out of his red face...
Craig's dad just stared at him. As did most people on the lower level of the hospital.
"You never had cancer?..." He said, finally. "But you lost both your lungs..."
"I made it up. I need the attention. I made it up. Please leave me alone."
Andy walked out of the building, the eyes of hundreds watching his every move, and suddenly, his story was real. The first thing he had done that would ever matter.
He walked out, walking onwards past the car park towards the motorway. There was no point now, no point at all.
Cars zoomed past from the right.
Andy tried to think of his life. Something solid he could care for.
"ANDY! ANDY!"
Andy turned. Craig's dad was running up behind him.
Andy sat on the ground, feeling the wind pushing against him from the cars speeding past... Craig's dad walked straight up to him.
"It doesn't matter. I don't care if you had cancer or not." He said.
Andy blinked, and looked up. "What?"
"All that matters..." He said, getting his breath back... "Is that you have inspired our son to fight for his life. I can't repay you enough for that."
"But it was all a lie..." Andy said. "It was just a story I made up. I so desperately wanted to be different to everybody... I just needed the excuse to be able to think of myself as someone else..."
"The past is a story, your whole life is a story." Craig's dad said, bending down and putting his hands on his knees. "If your story can inspire people, then who cares if it's true or not."
Andy looked up at him, a complete silence seeming to echo through his mind.
"If you can give faith to someone, then who cares how you do it? Who cares how many lies you tell, or stories you make up. Just making someone believe in themselves is all you ever need do. You can have whatever past you want, and you can change lives."
-----------
"Andy! Hey! Didn't expect to see you again so soon."
Andy threw the baseball hat down on the bed. "Well, plenty of people came to see me when I went through this, I guess you deserve the same too. I'll come see you every day, I promise."
"A hat! Fantastic." Craig said, coughing. He picked up the baseball cap and put it on his bald head. "Thanks man!"
"Heh, no worries." Andy said. "Just keep strong, yeah?"
Very good.
Heh, make of it what you will. :0)
The take home message is:
Its ok to lie. Joke.
Its a nice enough little tale.
Its ok to lie. Joke.
Its a nice enough little tale.
Sehr gut... Quite odd too, ho-hum...
Good
There's swearing in this, sorry. Just felt it added to atmosphere. If you're of a non-swearing background, don't read. I have no responsbility for how hard your parents will hit you if they catch you reading this. Even though it's hardly any swearing anyway. Never mind, here's something.
16:21
Life is just a story. You get born, you die. The bit in the middle is whatever you want it to be.
And what's more? Your story is one in billions today, and more than that, yours is God knows how many that have ever been. So why should your story matter? Why should anyone care what you've done? What makes you different?
And more importantly, why should it matter that it's true?
Andy twisted the piece of nail around in his mouth... he always got nervous in hospitals.
The lift stopped at the seventh floor, and he stepped out into the smell that hit him straight on... death, mixed with disinfectent.
Hospitals were like warzones. People just lying around, waiting to die, others still fighting on...
"Andy? Hey!..." The man in the bed said through a rusty throat, and coughed. He sat up. "How are you?"
"Never mind me, how are you?" Andy said... The man's name was Craig. He had been diagnosed with lung cancer. He was going to die just like everyone else, just earlier. He was twenty four.
"Bit cold, like." Craig patted his bald head. "Ba***rd chemotherapy, eh? You know about that crap though, don't you! Ha!"
"Heh, yeah." Andy replied, automatically.
"You know, it had got me thinking." Craig grated out.
"What has?"
"You, having lung cancer when you were fifteen. I mean... do you have any sort of idea how much strength you've given me? Knowing you had to go through all this crap and pulled through?"
Andy just smiled.
"You never said much about this ******* pain though... Jesus!" Craig said... Andy could hardly hear what he was saying... just hearing Craig's breathing getting louder and louder... each breath seeming heavier than the last. "I'm having my left lung taken out on Saturday, hopefully it won't spread to the right, like yours did... you were so lucky to find a transplant, especially so young too."
"I bought you some flowers. You know, because that's what people do." Andy said.
"Bet you got craploads of flowers when you were in hospital!" Craig said, and coughed some. "At your age too, hell! I can't imagine myself having to go through with his crap when I was that old. It was hard enough seeing Man U lose a match!"
"Heh, yeah, well, get well soon and stuff."
"Yeah, no worries... doubt I'll heal as fast as you though, but I'll give it a shot!"
Andy looked down on Craig, desperately wishing he was the one lying in the bed instead.
"Bye man."
"Hey, you gonna come back?" Craig shouted.
"Yeah." Andy replied. "I think I've been gone long enough."
Craig coughed at the remark, unable to ask what Andy meant as he left the room...
"Hey Andy, visiting Craig?"
Andy flinched at his name... it was another of Craig's friends, Paul, visiting. "Err, yeah, just seen him now."
"I bet he was glad to see you," Paul said... "I mean... give him the support, you being through all this before and all."
"Yeah, he seemed pretty glad to see me. I've really got to go."
"Oh... ok... well... hey... Andy?"
"Yeah?"
"You alright? You look like you're about to cry."
"I'm alright."
"Bringing back bad memories?" Paul asked, sympathetically.
"SHUT UP!" Andy yelled. "SHUT THE **** UP!"
A nurse breathed in at shock, and quickly rushed over to where they were.
"Please can you not raise your voice, or swear, please!" The nurse said, keeping her voice down.
"Sorry... it was my fault." Paul said. "He doesn't have good memories of hospitals. His friend in there has the same thing when he was a child."
Andy started breathing heavily, and walked towards the lift... he pressed the button, the lift didn't open, so he pushed the doors of the stairs wide open and strode through, still breathing heavily.
"Andy? Is that you? Craig's friend?"
Andy span around, just as he was about to leave the hospital for good, out of breath, his head spinning. An old couple were sat outside the newsagents, a woman gently sobbing into tissues, and an old grey man.
"I'm Craig's dad... I guess you've just been up to see him."
"Yeah, I... I have, yes, I really have to go, I'm sorry."
"Please..." The grey man said. "I just wanted to say thank you."
"Don't thank me, please don't thank me..."
"No, really... you've kept him going. The thought of you going through what he's going through now, the thought of having such a hard time at that age, it's kept him strong. I really don't know what he'd be like if he wasn't for you..."
"I NEVER HAD CANCER! I NEVER HAD ******* CANCER!" Andy said, tears pouring out of his red face...
Craig's dad just stared at him. As did most people on the lower level of the hospital.
"You never had cancer?..." He said, finally. "But you lost both your lungs..."
"I made it up. I need the attention. I made it up. Please leave me alone."
Andy walked out of the building, the eyes of hundreds watching his every move, and suddenly, his story was real. The first thing he had done that would ever matter.
He walked out, walking onwards past the car park towards the motorway. There was no point now, no point at all.
Cars zoomed past from the right.
Andy tried to think of his life. Something solid he could care for.
"ANDY! ANDY!"
Andy turned. Craig's dad was running up behind him.
Andy sat on the ground, feeling the wind pushing against him from the cars speeding past... Craig's dad walked straight up to him.
"It doesn't matter. I don't care if you had cancer or not." He said.
Andy blinked, and looked up. "What?"
"All that matters..." He said, getting his breath back... "Is that you have inspired our son to fight for his life. I can't repay you enough for that."
"But it was all a lie..." Andy said. "It was just a story I made up. I so desperately wanted to be different to everybody... I just needed the excuse to be able to think of myself as someone else..."
"The past is a story, your whole life is a story." Craig's dad said, bending down and putting his hands on his knees. "If your story can inspire people, then who cares if it's true or not."
Andy looked up at him, a complete silence seeming to echo through his mind.
"If you can give faith to someone, then who cares how you do it? Who cares how many lies you tell, or stories you make up. Just making someone believe in themselves is all you ever need do. You can have whatever past you want, and you can change lives."
-----------
"Andy! Hey! Didn't expect to see you again so soon."
Andy threw the baseball hat down on the bed. "Well, plenty of people came to see me when I went through this, I guess you deserve the same too. I'll come see you every day, I promise."
"A hat! Fantastic." Craig said, coughing. He picked up the baseball cap and put it on his bald head. "Thanks man!"
"Heh, no worries." Andy said. "Just keep strong, yeah?"
16:21
Life is just a story. You get born, you die. The bit in the middle is whatever you want it to be.
And what's more? Your story is one in billions today, and more than that, yours is God knows how many that have ever been. So why should your story matter? Why should anyone care what you've done? What makes you different?
And more importantly, why should it matter that it's true?
Andy twisted the piece of nail around in his mouth... he always got nervous in hospitals.
The lift stopped at the seventh floor, and he stepped out into the smell that hit him straight on... death, mixed with disinfectent.
Hospitals were like warzones. People just lying around, waiting to die, others still fighting on...
"Andy? Hey!..." The man in the bed said through a rusty throat, and coughed. He sat up. "How are you?"
"Never mind me, how are you?" Andy said... The man's name was Craig. He had been diagnosed with lung cancer. He was going to die just like everyone else, just earlier. He was twenty four.
"Bit cold, like." Craig patted his bald head. "Ba***rd chemotherapy, eh? You know about that crap though, don't you! Ha!"
"Heh, yeah." Andy replied, automatically.
"You know, it had got me thinking." Craig grated out.
"What has?"
"You, having lung cancer when you were fifteen. I mean... do you have any sort of idea how much strength you've given me? Knowing you had to go through all this crap and pulled through?"
Andy just smiled.
"You never said much about this ******* pain though... Jesus!" Craig said... Andy could hardly hear what he was saying... just hearing Craig's breathing getting louder and louder... each breath seeming heavier than the last. "I'm having my left lung taken out on Saturday, hopefully it won't spread to the right, like yours did... you were so lucky to find a transplant, especially so young too."
"I bought you some flowers. You know, because that's what people do." Andy said.
"Bet you got craploads of flowers when you were in hospital!" Craig said, and coughed some. "At your age too, hell! I can't imagine myself having to go through with his crap when I was that old. It was hard enough seeing Man U lose a match!"
"Heh, yeah, well, get well soon and stuff."
"Yeah, no worries... doubt I'll heal as fast as you though, but I'll give it a shot!"
Andy looked down on Craig, desperately wishing he was the one lying in the bed instead.
"Bye man."
"Hey, you gonna come back?" Craig shouted.
"Yeah." Andy replied. "I think I've been gone long enough."
Craig coughed at the remark, unable to ask what Andy meant as he left the room...
"Hey Andy, visiting Craig?"
Andy flinched at his name... it was another of Craig's friends, Paul, visiting. "Err, yeah, just seen him now."
"I bet he was glad to see you," Paul said... "I mean... give him the support, you being through all this before and all."
"Yeah, he seemed pretty glad to see me. I've really got to go."
"Oh... ok... well... hey... Andy?"
"Yeah?"
"You alright? You look like you're about to cry."
"I'm alright."
"Bringing back bad memories?" Paul asked, sympathetically.
"SHUT UP!" Andy yelled. "SHUT THE **** UP!"
A nurse breathed in at shock, and quickly rushed over to where they were.
"Please can you not raise your voice, or swear, please!" The nurse said, keeping her voice down.
"Sorry... it was my fault." Paul said. "He doesn't have good memories of hospitals. His friend in there has the same thing when he was a child."
Andy started breathing heavily, and walked towards the lift... he pressed the button, the lift didn't open, so he pushed the doors of the stairs wide open and strode through, still breathing heavily.
"Andy? Is that you? Craig's friend?"
Andy span around, just as he was about to leave the hospital for good, out of breath, his head spinning. An old couple were sat outside the newsagents, a woman gently sobbing into tissues, and an old grey man.
"I'm Craig's dad... I guess you've just been up to see him."
"Yeah, I... I have, yes, I really have to go, I'm sorry."
"Please..." The grey man said. "I just wanted to say thank you."
"Don't thank me, please don't thank me..."
"No, really... you've kept him going. The thought of you going through what he's going through now, the thought of having such a hard time at that age, it's kept him strong. I really don't know what he'd be like if he wasn't for you..."
"I NEVER HAD CANCER! I NEVER HAD ******* CANCER!" Andy said, tears pouring out of his red face...
Craig's dad just stared at him. As did most people on the lower level of the hospital.
"You never had cancer?..." He said, finally. "But you lost both your lungs..."
"I made it up. I need the attention. I made it up. Please leave me alone."
Andy walked out of the building, the eyes of hundreds watching his every move, and suddenly, his story was real. The first thing he had done that would ever matter.
He walked out, walking onwards past the car park towards the motorway. There was no point now, no point at all.
Cars zoomed past from the right.
Andy tried to think of his life. Something solid he could care for.
"ANDY! ANDY!"
Andy turned. Craig's dad was running up behind him.
Andy sat on the ground, feeling the wind pushing against him from the cars speeding past... Craig's dad walked straight up to him.
"It doesn't matter. I don't care if you had cancer or not." He said.
Andy blinked, and looked up. "What?"
"All that matters..." He said, getting his breath back... "Is that you have inspired our son to fight for his life. I can't repay you enough for that."
"But it was all a lie..." Andy said. "It was just a story I made up. I so desperately wanted to be different to everybody... I just needed the excuse to be able to think of myself as someone else..."
"The past is a story, your whole life is a story." Craig's dad said, bending down and putting his hands on his knees. "If your story can inspire people, then who cares if it's true or not."
Andy looked up at him, a complete silence seeming to echo through his mind.
"If you can give faith to someone, then who cares how you do it? Who cares how many lies you tell, or stories you make up. Just making someone believe in themselves is all you ever need do. You can have whatever past you want, and you can change lives."
-----------
"Andy! Hey! Didn't expect to see you again so soon."
Andy threw the baseball hat down on the bed. "Well, plenty of people came to see me when I went through this, I guess you deserve the same too. I'll come see you every day, I promise."
"A hat! Fantastic." Craig said, coughing. He picked up the baseball cap and put it on his bald head. "Thanks man!"
"Heh, no worries." Andy said. "Just keep strong, yeah?"