Life While Dying

Prologue:

Do you ever get the feeling that nobody's listening? That even if they were, they wouldn't care what you had to say? Or maybe that when they look at you, all they see is a bug. How about that one? If you know any of those feelings, congratulations, you're a lot like me. Oh, don't get me wrong, though. I like being that way. I don't want people to pay attention to me. Yes, sometimes I get lonely, not having any friends, but other than that, I'm fine. I mean, really, who needs all the drama that goes with having friends. It's an endless cycle of fighting and making up. And I don't really have time for that. There's still so much I want to do in life, you know? Maybe after high school, I could start making friends and having fun. At least...that's what I used to think.

But I'm not there yet. I guess the best thing for me to do now is introduce myself, right? Yeah, of course. You can't read a book without knowing the main character, right? So, that's what I'll do. My name is Zack, and I'm a sixteen year old. I'm in the prime of youth, a high school student with years of life left. I make the honor roll every quarter, and I don't do drugs or drink. For that matter, I don't do much of anything. At least, nothing dangerous.

Well, anyway, I guess it's time to start this story, isn't it? Since I'm going to write this down, you know, for Luke. Oh, wait, you don't know who Luke is yet, do you? Don't worry, I'll get there. You don't need to worry much about meeting him. You will, I promise.

So, I guess to set this thing rolling, I need to start with my doctor's visit. Just a routine check-up, you know? Gods, if I'd known how much that damned checkup would change my life, I might not have gone. But, the fact remains that I went, and that the checkup changed my life. Forever.

It was a regular visit to the doctors. You know the line to sign up, then the hours of waiting in the waiting room, with screaming babies giving me a headache. You know, you'd think that in a clinic, there'd be at least one piece of Tylenol, wouldn't you? Unfortunately, there wasn't. Those idiots. But, after hours of waiting, I finally went in to see the doctor. Mom wanted to come in with me, but I told her no. After all, what sort of sixteen year old wants their mother sitting in on their doctor's visits? Well, things stayed pretty normal. The doctor took some blood, and did a few other standard tests, then told me that he'd call the house if there were any anomalies. Which, of course, there wouldn't be. There were never any anomalies. Mom was so relieved that nothing was wrong, but really, why should she be? Like I said, there were never any anomalies.

When I was getting ready for bed that night, a storm rolled into town. Odd, considering how the forecast had been for clear skies all week. And it seemed pretty bad, too. I hoped that it wasn't a bad omen, you know, since I had finals the next day. And the day after that, that was my last day of school.

I went to sleep that night with a smile on my face, despite the chorus of thunder and rain ringing in my ears.

I can remember every detail of that walk home from school. I remember telling Luke to leave me alone for the sixteenth time that day, remember thinking how annoying it was that he was so persistent about getting me to go out with him. I remember how grey everything seemed, how unseasonably cold it was. I thought that it had something to do with the thunderstorm last night.

I remember walking up my driveway, thinking it odd that both my parents were home. They work, you know, and were never home when I got home. I think that was my first real indication that something was very wrong. I opened the front door, and the house was silent. I walked into the living room, and spotted Mom. She was sitting on the couch, sobbing. Dad had his arm around her shoulder, whispering soothing things at her, things like, 'we don't know for sure' and 'nothing is definite'. And I knew that something was very, very, very wrong.

I shifted awkwardly, my weight causing a floorboard to creak. Mom looked up at me, and her wailing increased. Well, that clinched it; it was something I'd done. "What did I do?" My voice sounded different, suddenly, almost more strained than normal.

"Son, it isn't your fault." Dad's voice was choked; he stared at me with tears swimming in his eyes. Dad...he never cried. He never even looked like he was about to cry, not even the time when Mom was in a car accident and they didn't think she'd live. He was always the strong one. What could have driven him to this? And if I didn't do anything, how could it be my fault? "We...we need to go to the hospital." The hospital? Who was in the hospital? I didn't get it. Dad sighed heavily. "Son, there was a problem with your test results. We need to head to the hospital so they can make sure." He sounded...defeated. Like he already knew that there was no hope for me.

I blanked out for the car ride to the hospital. I think that I was in shock. I remember thinking how odd it was that we didn't have to wait at all. There was no hour long wait in the waiting room, we went right in. I didn't argue with Mom and Dad about coming in with me, it was starting to sink in that I was in some serious trouble.

I don't remember all that they did to me. I just know that I was starting to get really scared, and I didn't want to find out what was wrong. I don't know how long we waited after the last test was done, but then we were called into the office of my doctor. I remember thinking that I'd never seen him so grim...he was almost scary.

"Sit down, please. I'm afraid that I have some very bad news for you." Well, duh. I wouldn't be here if he had good news, now would I? Well, moot point. I went back to paying attention; after all, this was my life we were talking about, right? "Zack, I regretfully inform you that you have exactly thirty days to live, starting tomorrow." He paused, letting that sink in. I felt like my world had dropped out from under me. Thirty days? That wasn't possible. I had so much left to do...and then he continued. "The disease is called 'Gudman's Disease'. It's very rare, there is no cure, nor is there a known treatment. You'll need to be placed in the hospital about two days before your time is up, but other than that, tie up loose ends. There's nothing else I can say for you to do." He looked sad as he sent us out of the office.

The car was deathly silent on the way home. Dad gripped the wheel tightly; Mom had tears streaming silently down her face. I...I was back in a state of shock, all I could think of was that I had school tomorrow. I would have to go to bed right when I got home; my last day of school was tomorrow. I concentrated on that, as I walked into the house. I deliberately didn't think that thirty days from then, I would be dead.

"Zack?" Mom spoke softly, her voice shaking. "Zack, sweety, it's all going to be okay." She spoke softly, intending on hugging me. "I'll make it okay, baby."

I dodged the embrace, trembling. "I...I need to go to bed. I have school tomorrow." I fled upstairs trying not to cry. I wasn't going to die, I wasn't. This was all just some horrible mistake, a nightmare. I would wake up any minute now, and everything would be okay again. I went to bed curled around my pillow, sobbing.

Author's Notes:

The disease isn't real. I bet you guessed that, though. Umm, nothing else right now, though.