A Beginner's Guide To Saving Lives
I know that you have had stories like this before and I'm pretty sure you'll know what the ending is going to be, so I'm just going to come out and say that if you're looking for original material, then go look someplace else.
Now some of you are wondering, 'Why is he starting off a book like this? Won't that lower the amount of readers?' To that I say,
"I want people who care what happens to the characters, and the people around him, even though the situation might be cliche."
This book starts off five years ago. I was living in Knoxville, TN. My life was pretty good. I had friends, a good school, family, and I had my whole life planned out ahead of me. I didn't want to move, I didn't want anything to change, but as you know, things don't stay the same, they change, evolve, with a LOWERCASE e. No one can NOT change, with the exception of God. Yes, I am a Christian. I will say right now that I am. Anyways, Like I said, people change, and circumstances change. But the change we don't ever think about, is one of the most important...
We all think that we can go through life and be perfectly fine, at least, that's how I used to see it. The rest of my family saw it that way too, which is why what happened next affected us so badly. My mom was diagnosed with Cancer. Cliche right? One in three people are diagnosed with cancer in their life, but we look around our group of friends, and we think that we'll be BFF's! Emphasis on the last F. Forever. Well, I'm here to say that it WONT last forever. It never will. 100% of the time! someone is going to die, and of course, it's hard to stay friends with a dead body. Suggestion, don't ever do that.
My mom died three months later, she was hospitalized. And I watched as doctors frivolously tried to save my mother's dead body. I watched, through my tear filled eyes, as they gave up. They didn't even try to think of anything else. They just stopped. I screamed at them to go back in there and bring my mom back. But of course, that wasn't possible. She was gone, and I thought to myself,
"She can't be gone, I won't let her, she is NOT dead, because I won't let her be dead. She is still alive, they just have to keep trying."
I was under this false impression until several weeks after the funeral. I locked myself in my room, screaming to no one that my mom was not dead, she was in a comma, or asleep, or something that looked like death but wasn't. Maybe she was hibernating! That's it! I then spent three weeks, screaming at the ceiling about how my mom wasn't dead. My dad thought I was insane, but he couldn't do anything, because he couldn't get into my room. I had bolt the door shut, and taken the time to melt the lock together, and promise not to come out until they brought mom back. I waited, screaming, not eating, not sleeping, I wasn't even sure if I was alive or dead. I could be in hell. Where I had to live forever knowing that my mom was buried alive, and killed by my father and the doctors.
But it wasn't hell, it was very much real.
I lay on that bed, with my voice raspy, and my lungs struggling. I was skinny. I was starving myself to death, and I didn't even realize it. My dad consented to taking a chainsaw to my bedroom door, and hacking through the thing. He saw me lying there, half dead, and immediately called 911. I think that he was worried that he would lose both of us at the same time.
The next few months were a blur as I was restored from my state of insanity. I suffered when they told me that my mom really was dead. I had had a small hope that that memory was from my slight case of dementia.
My dad decided that he would move me far away from all the memories of my old life. I would completely start over. When I had shut my friends out, they originally had worried about me, but after my recovery, I found that they didn't care about me, I might as well have been dead.
We moved to Florida. Hoping to start our lives from scratch. And we did. I enrolled in a new school, a college predatory course. I became a geek, engrossing myself in the world of technology and academics, trying to bury past memories of myself. I quit trying to be cool, and eventually I accepted that being geeky was better than being cool, besides. I could win an argument with anyone through sheer will, not many people can say that. I wasn't reminded of my old life, until that one day. The day I met Heather. Heather Gordon. Hah. I never would've thought that I would grow to like her. I had met her once or twice at my school and pushed her aside as a girl who was nervous, and had frequent mood swings, but, as usual with people, I was VERY much in the wrong. In fact, she led me to one of the most important trials in my life, one that would test my physical ability, as well as my mental abilities and faith. Heather changed my life. And through her, I got this story, so you could say she's the entire reason for this but think whatever you want to. Because she, Maddie and I know what really happened, and we're here to tell you about it...