emilylou06
01-18-2008, 07:51 PM
This is based on a dream of mine that I expanded on. Just a simple story with a simple message. :yawnb:
A middle-aged man with an armed rifle burst into the hospital at 10 am. By noon the entire world knew about him by the flocking news reporters. He stood around six foot and weighed two hundred pounds with a ponytail of black velvet running just below his shoulder blades. Instead of appearing fanatical, he stood still breathing in and out calmly. He wore a plaid button down shirt and brown loafers that protruded from under his tan Dickies. He was not jittery, nor mannerless. He told the hostages to sit down for he would not shoot them. Instead, he demanded to see Dr. Troy Krow. The armed man said he would shoot himself if he was not given permission to see the doctor. It was urgent, the man pleaded.
A brave nurse finally spoke to the man. She asked him his name and why he needed to see Dr. Krow. The man smiled at her forced normalcy.
“Brennan. My name is Brennan Shyphen. The doctor, he… he can save my little girl.” The nurse raised her eyebrows. She searched Brennan with wondering eyes. The tears that silently glistened down his jaw were brought by sadness, not lunacy. The rifle dissolved before her eyes as her heart ached to hold this broken man. All he wanted was help; a chance.
Before the eyes of her disbelieving coworkers the nurse raised and paged the doctor who was two floors up. “This…this is Noel,” she stammered “I think it is best if you come to pediatrics, doctor… now.”
A shorter, more petite nurse sank her claws into Noel’s passing arm, hissing “Why did you do such a thing, you fool? He is going to murder our best surgeon and then kill us next!” Noel shook her off and gracefully sat back down eyeing the man that stood still as a rock. He smiled at her and exhaled, trying to settle his nerves.
“No, I won’t be harming anyone. This is my last hope… I… I don’t expect any of you to understand.” Brennan paused and shifted his gun to the other hand. “Thank you, Noel. You may have saved her life.” The petite nurse cringed away at the man’s words. She, along with many other women, were bowing their heads in silent prayers. Brennan shook his head. How did it come to this? He, too, spoke a silent prayer to the God he hoped could accomplish anything.
___________________________
Gracie knew her time was nearing. The walls in Rachel’s tiny apartment were thin as paper and every syllable issued on one side seeped into the next room like thick tar. She heard it daily; she was dying. Rachel, whom she rarely referred to as mother, for the lack of definition, came in the room only twice a day. Gracie could not rely on her, but worst of all, she was alone. At night horrid nightmares rocked her body and she would wake up coughing and sweating only to feel worse than the day before. The weakness overtook her body months ago. Her remaining strength she uses for eating and shifting her bedpan.
The only time Gracie felt love was years ago, before her daddy left. He didn’t love her anymore. He ran away to another family, at least that’s what her mother had told her. Painfully, she believed Rachel, just like any gullible six-year-old would. A few years later the doctor had found Leukemia in Gracie’s broken body.
Now, at the age of ten Gracie lays alone in her cramped room with only a television as a friend. At the age of ten Gracie realizes life isn’t worth living. It has been four years since her last hug. Instead she lies awake at night waiting for Rachel to arrive home safely. She stares at the blank screened television when Rachel doesn’t pay the bills, watching her own breath cloud the frigid air around her. Her mind does not hold images of puppies and baby dolls. She only thinks of death, the countdown until she meets her Creator. Her thoughts dwell on heaven and earth: how harsh it is here; how love is obsolete. The day Brennan entered the hospital with a rifle was the same day God heard a prayer so sweet that the angels cried at its sound.
Gracie used the rest of her strength to kneel beside her bed. She let the tears run freely as she asked God for one last hope to feel loved. She had never been pass first grade but she knew with all her heart that she should have been cared for. Her curls hid her ivory face behind a curtain of black velvet. After an hour she pulled herself back under the covers of her lumpy bed. Her head was reeling with pain and her body was tired. She knew it would be anytime now, but she was waiting. For what? She didn’t know. Gracie suddenly felt a strong urge to turn on the television.
The remote was cold under her touch and her hands shook uncontrollably. But when she finally managed to press the power button, she stared wide-eyed at the screen. A man was talking, a man she only knew by her memories. She saw the black hair pulled into a ponytail and the flannel shirt he always use to wear. Gracie smiled, whether or not he loved her, she could still love him.
Gracie managed to hit the volume button and she let the sound of her father’s voice surround her like a warm summer day. He was talking to a doctor and neither looked too alarmed, seeing her dad had a gun strapped across him. She finally managed to interpret what the two men were discussing.
“Now, Brennan this surgery is very difficult and dangerous for a person that far along. Why don’t you just put down the rifle and we can talk about this tomorrow in my office. You have a lot of people upset and this is only going to get harder to deal with the longer you drag it on.” The doctor was coaxing him. Gracie could finally see the real fear in the surgeon’s eyes. As the camera shifted on her father once more she could also see the terror in his face as well. Yet, she knew this fear was different. He was not afraid of being sent to jail or being shot. But what was he afraid for? Why was he there holding those nice people hostage? She watched her father intently, barely breathing.
Brennan took a deep breath and wiped a tear away. His shoulders sagged and his face was lined in canyons of despondency. He raised his eyes and stared into the doctor’s eyes.
“No, Dr. Krow, we can’t talk about this in your office tomorrow. You see, I haven’t seen my little girl, Gracie, in four years. Her mother, my ex-wife, will not let me get near her. She is dying… I can’t even funnel money through to her for operation because it is too expensive. Her mother won’t help me pay because she uses her low salary to get high every night. The day Gracie was born I vowed to God I would never let anything happen to her. The night her mother took her from me in order to receive the child support that Gracie never sees; I betrayed my daughter. I let her slip away from me. I have never stopped trying, you see. I have pulled every string I could think of, only to find out the other end was raveled. But, you, Doctor… you could be her last chance. She will die if you don’t attempt the surgery. Please.” He glanced at the news station camera that he had allowed in the room. “I love her.”
Brennan gave into his tears and the surgeon soothingly eased the gun from his grip. The S.W.A.T team rushed in and surrounded the unarmed man yelling at him to get face down. In an instance Dr. Krow stepped in the middle of the chaos motioning for the men to lower their guns.
“Gentlemen, you may take this man to jail. But before you do I wish to see his daughter…quickly.”
--------------------------------
Time spun in slow motion for Brennan from there. He barely seemed to notice being rushed into a squad car or speeding to his ex-wife’s house across town. All his thoughts were on Gracie: her very first word, the way she crunched her Cheerios, her little laugh that filled the room with light, and her smile that could mend a broken heart.
They had decided that Brennan would enter her room alone not wanting to overwhelm the sick girl. Rachel was not at home, something he had already planned on. The men shivered when they stepped into the chilled home.
“Come with me Doctor.” Brennan whispered to the man who stood beside him. “I want my daughter to see who will give her a chance at life.”
---------------------------------
When they found the small girl in bed she was cold and still. Brennan was in shock and knelt beside Gracie, caressing her hand lovingly. He knew she was not with them, before Dr. Krow could feel her pulse. Her eyes were closed in a dream-like slumber; one she would never wake from.
Brennan shook his head in disbelief and looked at the man next to him. “I was too late. You were supposed to help her…God was supposed to help her.” He grew silent and kissed Gracie’s hand. It was all in vain and worthless. His daughter had died utterly alone.
Dr. Krow noticed the bright television beside the dull bed. The station was covering the after-affects of the hold-up. An obnoxious reporter was interviewing the nurses at his clinic and Noel was speaking. Her eyes were shining with passion as she explained Brennan’s love for his little girl. Dr. Krow looked at Gracie’s face studying her, and finally spoke.
“Look.” Brennan glanced at Dr. Krow then followed his eyes to the television that he had not noticed before. “She saw everything, Brennan.” Brennan looked at Dr. Krow with a sad smile. The doctor knelt and placed his hand on the aching man’s shoulder.
“Gracie saw you risk your life to save hers. She felt love she hasn’t known since she was taken four years ago. You gave that to her Brennan.”
The doctor and Brennan both looked at the body lying before them. There was no mistaking what the doctor said. She was peaceful. Brennan studied his daughter and smiled. She would never be broken again.
His heart swelled even more when he noticed her lips were formed into a slight smile and her eyes wrinkled in happiness. Brennan realized Gracie had been given one last hope. It hadn’t been the hope he wanted to give her, it had been much more simple. He had shown her love from a father to a daughter. He had given Gracie the comfort she needed to go to the next world, where she would never question love again.
A middle-aged man with an armed rifle burst into the hospital at 10 am. By noon the entire world knew about him by the flocking news reporters. He stood around six foot and weighed two hundred pounds with a ponytail of black velvet running just below his shoulder blades. Instead of appearing fanatical, he stood still breathing in and out calmly. He wore a plaid button down shirt and brown loafers that protruded from under his tan Dickies. He was not jittery, nor mannerless. He told the hostages to sit down for he would not shoot them. Instead, he demanded to see Dr. Troy Krow. The armed man said he would shoot himself if he was not given permission to see the doctor. It was urgent, the man pleaded.
A brave nurse finally spoke to the man. She asked him his name and why he needed to see Dr. Krow. The man smiled at her forced normalcy.
“Brennan. My name is Brennan Shyphen. The doctor, he… he can save my little girl.” The nurse raised her eyebrows. She searched Brennan with wondering eyes. The tears that silently glistened down his jaw were brought by sadness, not lunacy. The rifle dissolved before her eyes as her heart ached to hold this broken man. All he wanted was help; a chance.
Before the eyes of her disbelieving coworkers the nurse raised and paged the doctor who was two floors up. “This…this is Noel,” she stammered “I think it is best if you come to pediatrics, doctor… now.”
A shorter, more petite nurse sank her claws into Noel’s passing arm, hissing “Why did you do such a thing, you fool? He is going to murder our best surgeon and then kill us next!” Noel shook her off and gracefully sat back down eyeing the man that stood still as a rock. He smiled at her and exhaled, trying to settle his nerves.
“No, I won’t be harming anyone. This is my last hope… I… I don’t expect any of you to understand.” Brennan paused and shifted his gun to the other hand. “Thank you, Noel. You may have saved her life.” The petite nurse cringed away at the man’s words. She, along with many other women, were bowing their heads in silent prayers. Brennan shook his head. How did it come to this? He, too, spoke a silent prayer to the God he hoped could accomplish anything.
___________________________
Gracie knew her time was nearing. The walls in Rachel’s tiny apartment were thin as paper and every syllable issued on one side seeped into the next room like thick tar. She heard it daily; she was dying. Rachel, whom she rarely referred to as mother, for the lack of definition, came in the room only twice a day. Gracie could not rely on her, but worst of all, she was alone. At night horrid nightmares rocked her body and she would wake up coughing and sweating only to feel worse than the day before. The weakness overtook her body months ago. Her remaining strength she uses for eating and shifting her bedpan.
The only time Gracie felt love was years ago, before her daddy left. He didn’t love her anymore. He ran away to another family, at least that’s what her mother had told her. Painfully, she believed Rachel, just like any gullible six-year-old would. A few years later the doctor had found Leukemia in Gracie’s broken body.
Now, at the age of ten Gracie lays alone in her cramped room with only a television as a friend. At the age of ten Gracie realizes life isn’t worth living. It has been four years since her last hug. Instead she lies awake at night waiting for Rachel to arrive home safely. She stares at the blank screened television when Rachel doesn’t pay the bills, watching her own breath cloud the frigid air around her. Her mind does not hold images of puppies and baby dolls. She only thinks of death, the countdown until she meets her Creator. Her thoughts dwell on heaven and earth: how harsh it is here; how love is obsolete. The day Brennan entered the hospital with a rifle was the same day God heard a prayer so sweet that the angels cried at its sound.
Gracie used the rest of her strength to kneel beside her bed. She let the tears run freely as she asked God for one last hope to feel loved. She had never been pass first grade but she knew with all her heart that she should have been cared for. Her curls hid her ivory face behind a curtain of black velvet. After an hour she pulled herself back under the covers of her lumpy bed. Her head was reeling with pain and her body was tired. She knew it would be anytime now, but she was waiting. For what? She didn’t know. Gracie suddenly felt a strong urge to turn on the television.
The remote was cold under her touch and her hands shook uncontrollably. But when she finally managed to press the power button, she stared wide-eyed at the screen. A man was talking, a man she only knew by her memories. She saw the black hair pulled into a ponytail and the flannel shirt he always use to wear. Gracie smiled, whether or not he loved her, she could still love him.
Gracie managed to hit the volume button and she let the sound of her father’s voice surround her like a warm summer day. He was talking to a doctor and neither looked too alarmed, seeing her dad had a gun strapped across him. She finally managed to interpret what the two men were discussing.
“Now, Brennan this surgery is very difficult and dangerous for a person that far along. Why don’t you just put down the rifle and we can talk about this tomorrow in my office. You have a lot of people upset and this is only going to get harder to deal with the longer you drag it on.” The doctor was coaxing him. Gracie could finally see the real fear in the surgeon’s eyes. As the camera shifted on her father once more she could also see the terror in his face as well. Yet, she knew this fear was different. He was not afraid of being sent to jail or being shot. But what was he afraid for? Why was he there holding those nice people hostage? She watched her father intently, barely breathing.
Brennan took a deep breath and wiped a tear away. His shoulders sagged and his face was lined in canyons of despondency. He raised his eyes and stared into the doctor’s eyes.
“No, Dr. Krow, we can’t talk about this in your office tomorrow. You see, I haven’t seen my little girl, Gracie, in four years. Her mother, my ex-wife, will not let me get near her. She is dying… I can’t even funnel money through to her for operation because it is too expensive. Her mother won’t help me pay because she uses her low salary to get high every night. The day Gracie was born I vowed to God I would never let anything happen to her. The night her mother took her from me in order to receive the child support that Gracie never sees; I betrayed my daughter. I let her slip away from me. I have never stopped trying, you see. I have pulled every string I could think of, only to find out the other end was raveled. But, you, Doctor… you could be her last chance. She will die if you don’t attempt the surgery. Please.” He glanced at the news station camera that he had allowed in the room. “I love her.”
Brennan gave into his tears and the surgeon soothingly eased the gun from his grip. The S.W.A.T team rushed in and surrounded the unarmed man yelling at him to get face down. In an instance Dr. Krow stepped in the middle of the chaos motioning for the men to lower their guns.
“Gentlemen, you may take this man to jail. But before you do I wish to see his daughter…quickly.”
--------------------------------
Time spun in slow motion for Brennan from there. He barely seemed to notice being rushed into a squad car or speeding to his ex-wife’s house across town. All his thoughts were on Gracie: her very first word, the way she crunched her Cheerios, her little laugh that filled the room with light, and her smile that could mend a broken heart.
They had decided that Brennan would enter her room alone not wanting to overwhelm the sick girl. Rachel was not at home, something he had already planned on. The men shivered when they stepped into the chilled home.
“Come with me Doctor.” Brennan whispered to the man who stood beside him. “I want my daughter to see who will give her a chance at life.”
---------------------------------
When they found the small girl in bed she was cold and still. Brennan was in shock and knelt beside Gracie, caressing her hand lovingly. He knew she was not with them, before Dr. Krow could feel her pulse. Her eyes were closed in a dream-like slumber; one she would never wake from.
Brennan shook his head in disbelief and looked at the man next to him. “I was too late. You were supposed to help her…God was supposed to help her.” He grew silent and kissed Gracie’s hand. It was all in vain and worthless. His daughter had died utterly alone.
Dr. Krow noticed the bright television beside the dull bed. The station was covering the after-affects of the hold-up. An obnoxious reporter was interviewing the nurses at his clinic and Noel was speaking. Her eyes were shining with passion as she explained Brennan’s love for his little girl. Dr. Krow looked at Gracie’s face studying her, and finally spoke.
“Look.” Brennan glanced at Dr. Krow then followed his eyes to the television that he had not noticed before. “She saw everything, Brennan.” Brennan looked at Dr. Krow with a sad smile. The doctor knelt and placed his hand on the aching man’s shoulder.
“Gracie saw you risk your life to save hers. She felt love she hasn’t known since she was taken four years ago. You gave that to her Brennan.”
The doctor and Brennan both looked at the body lying before them. There was no mistaking what the doctor said. She was peaceful. Brennan studied his daughter and smiled. She would never be broken again.
His heart swelled even more when he noticed her lips were formed into a slight smile and her eyes wrinkled in happiness. Brennan realized Gracie had been given one last hope. It hadn’t been the hope he wanted to give her, it had been much more simple. He had shown her love from a father to a daughter. He had given Gracie the comfort she needed to go to the next world, where she would never question love again.