Jay- Eyyy, Sad Story!!!
Hey guys!
SO, recently I read a book called The Fault In Our Stars. It was super sad and actually inspired me to write a short story for school. I read it to my classmates and they really liked it. So, I decided to post it here! Enjoy!!
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I can feel everything but pity for the dying boy.
That was the main focus of my thoughts as I walked down the sidewalk, said dying boy trailing behind me. The dying boy was my brother, Zachiarus.
I did not know what kind of cancer he had. All I knew was that it was a belligerent force intent on destroying my brother's already weak lungs.
"We're here," Zachiarus said in the cracked, rattled tones that I had come to know as his. He stopped in front of the poetry café on the corner, the dullness of his eyes just barely lifting.
When he reached out to open the door, I stopped him. "Let me," I murmured in a calm voice, though I knew deep down I should not feel calm. At least, not in this situation.
I was deceiving him with my calm words, telling him everything would be alright when. in reality, nothing would ever be alright again. He was to die in a week, so how could it be?
I opened the door, Zachiarus automatically stepping I and shuffling to a small table near the stage.
The café itself was small, lights dimmed and soft music like white noise in the background. A petite girl was settled on the stage, a 'luminous' stage light only bright enough to cover her head and shoulders in buttery gold.
Marcus, the waiter that always served us, gave Zachiarus an elated look before heading into the back kitchen. His look did not surprise me. think anyone would smile if they saw a dying friend alive and walking.
As I made my way over to my brother, the girl on stage started talking, a poem easily spewing from her lips. It sounded like a preamble for a longer poem, but what do I know? I'm not a poet. The poem was written by her father, supposedly, and she was reading it posthumously. Almost like an eulogy.
I wondered about that even after we had left the café and girl behind. Even after we headed home to my worrying mother and weary father.
What of my brother's eulogy? I had not written one, and god forbid my parents ever mustered up the courage to do one themselves. Would my brother's funeral be silent?
I did not know then, and I do not know now. All I do know is that I feel everything but pity for the dying boy.
SO, recently I read a book called The Fault In Our Stars. It was super sad and actually inspired me to write a short story for school. I read it to my classmates and they really liked it. So, I decided to post it here! Enjoy!!
~~~~~~
I can feel everything but pity for the dying boy.
That was the main focus of my thoughts as I walked down the sidewalk, said dying boy trailing behind me. The dying boy was my brother, Zachiarus.
I did not know what kind of cancer he had. All I knew was that it was a belligerent force intent on destroying my brother's already weak lungs.
"We're here," Zachiarus said in the cracked, rattled tones that I had come to know as his. He stopped in front of the poetry café on the corner, the dullness of his eyes just barely lifting.
When he reached out to open the door, I stopped him. "Let me," I murmured in a calm voice, though I knew deep down I should not feel calm. At least, not in this situation.
I was deceiving him with my calm words, telling him everything would be alright when. in reality, nothing would ever be alright again. He was to die in a week, so how could it be?
I opened the door, Zachiarus automatically stepping I and shuffling to a small table near the stage.
The café itself was small, lights dimmed and soft music like white noise in the background. A petite girl was settled on the stage, a 'luminous' stage light only bright enough to cover her head and shoulders in buttery gold.
Marcus, the waiter that always served us, gave Zachiarus an elated look before heading into the back kitchen. His look did not surprise me. think anyone would smile if they saw a dying friend alive and walking.
As I made my way over to my brother, the girl on stage started talking, a poem easily spewing from her lips. It sounded like a preamble for a longer poem, but what do I know? I'm not a poet. The poem was written by her father, supposedly, and she was reading it posthumously. Almost like an eulogy.
I wondered about that even after we had left the café and girl behind. Even after we headed home to my worrying mother and weary father.
What of my brother's eulogy? I had not written one, and god forbid my parents ever mustered up the courage to do one themselves. Would my brother's funeral be silent?
I did not know then, and I do not know now. All I do know is that I feel everything but pity for the dying boy.
OK. Fault in the stars. I love it. I just can't even tell you how much. Have you seen the movie yet? The did the casting perfectly, and I feel like its even worse because I felt like it was happening to real people.
ReplyDeleteWHY DOES SHE NOT FEEL PITY?!?!
ReplyDeleteFeeling pity means she would feel compassion for him. Feeling pity means she basically feels like he is worth being pitied. He is not. He is worth much more that that. He is worth being loved and cherished while he is still with them. So, she does not pity hm. She loves him as a brother and friend that is going to leave soon.
DeleteAhhh, okay... but awwww :(
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