Dying Wish

[0] Prologue

I'm counting on you to remember this.

We'll call it my dying wish. Can't refuse a dying wish, it's bad luck.

The scratch of my sneakers echoed through a dim-lit staircase. Ch... Ch... Ch... The sound was a shallow, steady and slow thing; but it was the most I could manage, everything beneath my waist was heavy, like lead. Everything above my waist frail as glass. Sticky red fluid dripped from my chin. Yeah, I could think of better days.

Well, not right now. Right now, the most I could think about was climbing.

Ch... Ch...Ch...

I went on.

Moments like these make you bargain with God. You've been there. The bargain always starts a little something like, "God, you get me out of this, I'll never..." or "God, just get me there. Get me there and I swear..." I always found this to be a bit arrogant. Bargaining with God. Crazy to think you speak a four-letter word and God listens to your problems. Problems you probably had a hand in creating. 

You were in over your head. You overslept.

I once thought like this.

Because it's easy to be critical until you're in the mud. Until your back's against the wall and it's you needing some help. It's so easy to minimize another's plight. It's harder to acknowledge the bargains people make, while trivial to you, might have value. It's harder still to acknowledge now might be the time to make your own bargain with God. It was for me, anyway.

Ugh, why not. Tell me, what did I have to lose? I was dying, remember?

So, I whispered, "God, just—ack, ack!" More coughing. Not my worst. But worse enough to break my stride and expand pain through my body. I put one hand on the cold, rough step for balance. There were so many more steps. I needed to save my strength, what little remained after I pushed my body upright. My neck craned up and my chest heaved. My vocal cords tangled the request I wanted God to hear. I was a phony for trying.

"Ah, forget it." I went to take the next step. "Amen..."

Would you believe those were some of my very last words? Because my right foot planted on the concrete, without the company of my left foot. What was my left foot busy doing? Tipping back, pulling the rest of my weight with it.

Darkness overwhelmed my vision. I doubted the fall would hurt. I'd probably be passed out by then. That's how lousy my condition was. Of all the places to go, a high school staircase. Talk about a lame joke.

Despite this awful death, this short life was worth living. Never in a million years could I have foreseen where this was going. How far a single person could take me. I thanked Alice for this. For everything she gave me. I— Gray McCarter— would forever be in her debt. You might be curious why.

If so, here we go...

SOOOO THIS IS THE PROLOGUE

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