How to save a life - short story

As Amy walked down the lonely corridor, the walls began to close in on her. The path she was walking became thinner and longer, seconds feeling like hours as she slowly approached the automatic doors. Just as she braced herself for the sting of the cold winter air on her skin, a voice called out her name. She turned around to see a nurse moving hastily towards her with a piece of paper in her hand.

“I’m glad I caught you. Tom left you this...it has your name on it.” She said softly. She held out the paper towards her and she saw the folds on the back of it. It was an envelope. As it exchanged hands, she saw her name scribbled across it in a slanted line. It was as if she could feel the urgency tom had felt as he had written it. Amy stood, staring blankly for what felt like minutes, she had never felt such a ray of emotions before and it was all too much to handle.

“Are you okay?” the nurse in front of her had a concerned look on her face and was waiting patiently for an answer.

“Oh, err, yes...sorry. Thank you.” she felt her lips curve into a smile across her face before turning again and heading for her car.

Stepping outside, she didn’t feel the chill she had previously prepared herself for, her mind was focused on something very different. Amy was focused on yesterday’s events. How could two people could meet and form such a connection, have such an impact on each other in such a short amount of time? It was only one day in two lives, but it had changed so much for them both. She replayed yesterday through her mind, looking for signs, looking for anything which could make the current situation clearer to her. She heard Tom’s voice in her head.

* * *

“Can I help you with anything, young lady?” An old, frail voice broke the silence of the still room.

“Oh...um, sorry. I think I must have the wrong room. Sorry to disturb you, sir.” Amy mumbled into the floor and felt her face heat up suddenly.

“Oh, I’m no sir.” The man chuckled “you can call me Tom. His lips curved into a fragile smile and Amy returned it as she reluctantly looked up at his face again. As she introduced herself her voice croaked and she was forced to release a cough to clear it.

“i was just looking for my friend . He works here – asked me to bring him something he forgot. I should go.” Before turning to leave, Amy smiled awkwardly but before she left the room the man called out quietly, “Amy? Could you do me a favour and grab that book on the chair for me?” A long, bony finger pointed to the chair beside him where a thick, black, leather book sat. Its pages looked worn from the sides, as if it had been read a thousand times over.

Amy nodded and said “of course.” Whilst transferring it into his wrinkling hands, she noticed the title and tentatively added “good book, my dad used to read it to me all the time, it was his favourite.”

Suddenly, she was transported back to her childhood and the small bunch of memories she held of her father. It was Christmas, the smell of apple and cinnamon filled the air around her as she hid under her duvet to avoid the shouting downstairs. The book sat in front of her and individual words were lit up by a torch as she read them. The shouting stopped, a door slammed and a car sped off into the distance - a car which tore her life apart when its life ended in tragedy and neither it nor her father ever returned again. If only she had gone downstairs…

After a few second, Amy resurfaced to the current world and really looked at Tom for the first time as he put on his glasses even though his eyes still squinted as they looked intently at the gold writing on the front cover of the book. She gazed at his dark blue eyes which had a small sparkle within them, something which called out to her I have lived. She could not recall ever seeing one person with such history, such wisdom or such kindness in in their eyes all at once. She gazed with wonderment straight into his soul at that moment and felt her heart warm to him in a way she had never felt before and felt a connection. At that very moment it was as if something, though she did not know what, had branched out and filled the gap that had stood so widely and resiliently between them. Amy no longer felt the need to run away, she felt calm and relaxed with him sitting innocently at her side.

“Want me to read some to you?” She asked gently, looking straight into his round eyes.

Tom looked at the girl who stood before him, her sleek blonde hair sat neatly with not one piece out of place. She stood sweetly with her red bag held in both hands in front of her legs. Her bright blue eyes spoke to him; they were so young and innocent, yet to be filled with the hardship life would throw in her direction at all speeds and in all directions, making it impossible to catch everything and stop it from shattering in front of your eyes.

She reminded him of someone, someone from long ago but who he could remember as if she were stood in front of him at this very moment. He relived the moment when she walked away from him and he didn’t stop her. Even though he could feel his heart tearing in to at that moment – a pain he felt every time he saw the image in his mind – he didn’t chase after her, he didn’t even try. How could a woman who had been his life for so long and meant more to him than his own existence walk away so easily, leave his world so simply, never to return again? He had already imagined what their children would look like his mind had painted a picture not too dissimilar to the one in front of him at that very moment.

In a daze, her nodded and held the book out towards her, she retrieved it from his delicate, trembling hands and opened it. Tom snapped out of his memory and was just about to state where he had got up to when he was interrupted by a soft melody saying “chapter 11…”

Amy wasn’t sure how long she read for but she forgot entirely about the purpose of her visit and became lost in the words of the story, her memory recalling them one at a time as they flowed out of her mouth. Every now and again she would see Tom staring out of the window or the door, as if her were not listening to the words, but just taking comfort in hearing the constant hum of her tender voice but she continued to read regardless. Occasionally she saw him mouth the words along with her and sometimes he would interrupt her, pointing out his favourite parts or the moments which moved him the most, and telling her his own story of the memories which went with them.

Before long, the book was closed on Tom’s bed side table and Amy was completely wrapped up in his life, he spoke in such infinite detail it was as if every second was being acted out in front of her. His stories flowed so neatly it was as if he had pre-prepared their telling a dozen times in his head and he seemed as excited as a child at Christmas, speaking without breath, sitting up straight laughing hysterically as his own past jokes like he had never heard them before himself. It was then Amy realised that Tom’s life wasn’t just a life, it was a story after story which had been written down as they happened, it was a book which sat, dusted and untouched at the back of his mind just waiting for the opportunity for someone to come, open it and turn every single page, indulging in every emotion it was possible to feel.

And she did just that, she felt her eyes becoming wet as he spoke of sorrow, sadness, loss and death and was short of breath from laughter as he talked of mischief, happiness and love until eventually, he stopped. He coughed, looked down at his bed and sighed before saying “well, you didn’t come here to hear all of this, weren’t you here for a reason?” He smiled brightly in her direction, but it didn’t appear to reach his eyes in the way all his others had done. He seemed disgruntled and upset with himself. “I shouldn’t be keeping you with these silly stories of mine” he grumbled, it seemed mainly to himself before laughing half-heartedly.

“Gosh, no!” Amy cried as she leant forwards in her chair, “you’ve done so much in your life; it’s amazing and so interesting! Honestly, I’ve loved hearing every word of it. I would love to experience all of that. I mean…” her tone became softer now, “sometimes I worry I’ll just die without making a difference and without anyone to remember my name, but if I had half the life you’ve told me about I’d be happy.” She smiled shyly before turning away. When she turned back, Tom was looking her straight in the eye and said, “Amy, I assure you, you will. I just know it, you’re a special girl – and you’re young! By the time you get to my age you’ll have your own stories which are bigger and better than all of mine put together!” He grinned like a small boy, lent forward and whispered, “I promise.”

They began talking again but after a few minutes, Tom grew an uncomfortable look on his face. His moved around a little and his breathing started becoming heavier and staggered, like every breath was sucking the life from him. Amy panicked and after pointlessly repeating his name a few times sprang up, rushed to the door way a shouted for help. A nearby nurse came in and put an oxygen mask on his face and she was followed by a doctor and a few other nurses. One of whom asked Amy to step outside the room. She did as she was told.

“Is he okay? Will he be okay?” She asked her in a panic.

“He should be. He gets this shortness of breath quite often.” She paused, looked at Amy with a slightly puzzled look on her face and continued “if you don’t mind me asking, how do you know Mr Winter? I didn’t think he had anybody.”

Amy reached a realisation then. He had nobody. There had been no mention of family in any of his stories, there had been of friends, but none of the ones they were involved in were recent. Tom was alone. He sat in a hospital bed, day in, day out, speaking to the same old nurses about the same old things, staring out of the same window and the same door, staring at the same clock on the same four walls, he waited. Waited for what? Amy asked, but before she could think of an answer she said, “He’s a friend. A new friend.” the nurse smiled at her before informing her that Tom needed to rest and that visiting hours were almost over anyway.

“Could you tell him I’ll be back to see him tomorrow?” She asked.

“Of course” the nurse replied.

Amy thanked her and took a last look at Tom before leaving. His frail hand held the mask over his face; the other arm just lay limp on the bed next to him. His breathing was still deep, but at a normal pace now. His eyes stared hopelessly at the wall before him. The glimmer had gone and all that seemed to remain now was a look of misery and surrender. The only part of him that moved was his chest as he breathed in and out, in and out. His breaths were slow, as if he was reluctant to take them, but his body wouldn’t allow him not to do so.

Amy felt her eyes well up, took a deep breath, smiled at the nurse and made her way out of the hospital.

* * *

She got into her car and ripped open the envelope in her trembling hands. Her eyes moved quickly over the words, so quickly she couldn’t take any of it in and had to force herself to slow down.

Dear Amy,

The nurse told me you’d be back today, and I believed her, but I felt the need to write this to you anyway.

First of all, I’d like to thank you. You made me laugh and feel alive today for the first time in a long time. I’m sure you have gathered that I never did have a family of my own, yet you made me feel as if I have known you your whole life, like you are my family. I don’t think I can explain to you how much that means to me.

Secondly, I would like to address this fear of dying without having any kind of impact on someone’s life. You changed mine, no – you saved it – today, purely by being in it. I felt something I have been longing to feel for such a long time today. Something I don’t think I shall ever feel again.

You may be wondering why I wrote this but I had to say these things to you somehow. If you are reading this, it means that this strange feeling I have is what I think it is and I won’t be there to tell you this myself when you come and see me tomorrow. I thank the angel for his warning though, so that I have the opportunity to tell you all of this. Now, if the one thing I want to leave you with, dear Amy, is this…

Go out there and live! Feel everything there is to feel, do everything there is to do and create stories of your own. Find someone to tell them all to one day, someone to remember you because you were that someone for me, I only wish I had found you sooner and we’d been given more time to get to know each other. Live for me, live for family and friends, live of love and whatever else you can think of, but most importantly, live for yourself. Because when you are looking back on the stories you’ve made, you are the only one who will be in every single one of them.

So goodbye and good luck…

Love, your good friend forever in your heart (and in mine),

Tom x

So with a deep breath, a single tear down her cheek but plenty more in her eyes, Amy started the engine of her car and prepared to face her life. Yes, it was unknown, unpredictable and quite frankly terrifying, but for the first time in a long time she felt like it was going to be okay and she knew she would forever keep Tom’s words close to her heart as she drove off into her future.