1 hour.

For the 148th time I walked through the automatic front doors, escaping the bitter-sweet cold that gnawed at my finger tips. The early morning frost had swept across the city leaving a trail of icy blue. The doors closed behind me with a whisper and I welcomed the warmth that engulfed me.

The carrier I held rustled as it fell to rest between the crook of my elbow as I walked to the new modernised reception desk, an unnatural shade of white with glass cabinets that displayed health related products. Already, somebody had discarded their gum beneath the counter.

“Oliver Logan?” I say to the receptionist expectantly yet shyly, listening to the awkward silence of the waiting room, disturbed only by the gauche chatter amongst patients. At the reception was a red-headed woman I came to know as Julie. She nodded her head respectively, like she had many times before, and I walked through the double doors, heading down the long corridor ahead. Each wall was plastered in health posters and the ghastly aroma of disinfectant and disease invaded my senses.

I had almost reach room 07 and I held back my tears. I wasn’t going to cry. No, I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t let him see me cry. If I cried, he would cry and then we wouldn’t have even been able to hold on to hope. Hope was all we had.

“Hey, Ollie!” I said joyfully to the little boy laid in the dismal hospital bed.
“T!” His little voice squealed with as much excitement his frail little body could assemble. “You came!”
“Of course I came! I always come back for you, don’t I?” I winked at him.

Looking around the wretched room I held my breath. The small little boy laid helplessly in the uncomfortable hospital bed, hooked up to countless machines made my heart tremble beneath my chest. The sickly green walls only made him look weaker as his body struggled for life. His body was deteriorating.

“How ‘you feeling, mate?” I say stroking his bare head. A head that was once sheltered by his beautiful, blonde hair.
“I’m okay, Thea.” He lied, purely for my benefit. But I knew his disease was killing him on the inside.


I sat down in the wooden chair at his bedside. The uncomfortable seating gave me pins and needles, but I was in no position to complain about something so trivial, as I watch my baby brother waste away to skin and bones.

“What’s in the bag?” Oliver asked curiously, striving to lift himself high enough to see but his feeble limbs failed him. He sighed in submission.
“Well, let’s see.” I smiled falsely, only hoping that my façade was enough to hide the grief I hid within myself. I empty the bag onto his hospital bed, announcing each item as I went. I had brought him his book, his Nintendo DS –recently charged- and his favourite teddy I gave him for his birthday. He had called it Rodney.
“Rodney!” He called, his voice faltering as he spoke.
“And… I brought your favourite, chocolate chip muffins with extra chips”
“Thanks, T” He said, his smile fading as he took the muffins and placed them on his bed side table which held a useless, flickering lamp. ‘But I’m not hungry’

His appetite was abating. I hadn’t seen him eat properly for weeks and he was growing thin, his bones visible through his pale skin. The life in his blue eyes was dwindling and his hope for survival was absent.

“That’s okay, Ollie. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“Don’t leave me!” He cried.
“Of course I won’t leave you.” I kissed his forehead lightly. A silent vow I made to him and myself.
“I love you, T.” He whispered and I pulled his bed spread up to his chin, tucking it in at the sides.

I watched him sleep as silent tears escaped from my eyes, running down my cheeks and falling delicately on to his white sheets. I listened to him struggle to take in the air, his breath loud and hoarse. There was nothing I could do to take away his pain. I held his hand lightly in mine; terrified the slightest pressure might break his brittle bones. Black mascara ran down my flustered cheeks as I sobbed silently against my arm.








30 minutes

“Thea Logan?” Said a nurse, stood at the door. “Sorry, may I have a word?”

I felt my stomach drop like a tonne of bricks. My hands trembled and my insides danced harshly. Everything told me to stay my brother’s bed side. My heart told me what I was about to hear would crush my soul into nothing, just existing. But I had to hear what she had to say.

“Yeah, sure” I said briskly, wiping the unwelcome tears from my eyes. “What is it?” I asked politely, gently shutting the door behind me. I didn’t want our conversation to disturb his slumber.

“Yesterday, after you left we carried out some tests –just procedure- to check how his condition is… progressing” The nurse explained, how I wished she would stop. I didn’t want to know what she was about to say. Why wouldn’t she stop? The nurse’s face became overwhelmed with pity? Maybe it was regret?

“I’m sorry, Miss Logan. The results aren’t good. The cancer has spread much faster than our doctors were able to predict. Last week the cancer was only attacking the kidneys but…” The nurse carried on talking, but I was no longer listening.

I felt cold. The blood that ran through my body felt like piercing icicles threatening to slice at my veins. I felt my chest tighten, the air around me stolen by an invisible source, choking me. Its grasp held my breathing with vice-like strength.


The sound of my brother’s cry brought me back to reality. It was not the time for me to break down, Oliver had a matter of days and I was feeling sorry for myself? I would have plenty of time to grieve when he… but I couldn’t think about that. At that moment, I needed to be strong.

“I’m here, Ollie! I’m here. I’m sorry.” I spoke softly stroking his head soothingly.
“You left me. You said you wouldn’t leave me!” Oliver said through his cries. His sounds were soft and desperate.
“I only went to the bathroom. I came back, like I always do” I showed a rueful smile as I lied. I didn’t want him to fear the fate that was slowing creeping up on him. Ignorance is bliss.

Oliver’s subtle crying came to a stop as he drifted from consciousness; his eyes became sheets of lead, taking all his strength to hold them open. He surrendered, his body to weak to fight much more. I watched him drift in and out of consciousness for 23 minutes. Each time he awoke, I feared it would be the last.

But that moment came quicker than I had hoped, the last time I would ever see his innocent blue eyes looking at me with admiration, as he always did.








2 minutes.

His voice was raucous, his breath hoarse. I knew the end was approaching. And I didn’t know how to cope. I couldn’t break down, but holding it together proved it’s self to be a struggle.

“It hurts, Thea” Ollie croaked, faintly.
“I know, baby” I said leaning over the head board, pressing the nurse button provided. “Where does it hurt?

He didn’t answer. The tears rolled down his bony pale cheeks, falling on to the yellow pillow beneath him. I held his hand, but nothing could save my little brother from fate.

“Thea, am I dying?” Ollie asked bravely, his bottom lip quivering like a child.
His question struck a nerve. He was so brave, I choked on the tears threatening to escape. Ollie squeezed my hand comfortingly. “It’s okay to cry, T. I don’t mind. I can’t feel it anymore.” He spoke gallantly through his lie, but I could see the fear behind his masquerade.

We were two-of-a-kind, lying to the other to protect each other from pain. I couldn’t save my baby brother from the inevitable. He was just 6 years old. He had gone through so much more than most kids his age, yet the gods couldn’t reward him with the simple gift of survival?

“Will daddy be waiting for me?” He whispered, the life came back to his pale blue eyes at the thought.
“I’m sure he is, Ollie.” I said wiping the tears from my eyes. “I bet daddy is waiting for you in heaven. He’ll be so happy to see you. He’ll take you fish, you’ll have ice-scream. And I bet patch is waiting for you too.”

He smiled, his head back against the yellow pillow with eyes shut. For the first time in weeks he smiled, and he meant it. It wasn’t a smile forced through the pain just to give the people around him hope. He was truly happy. Whatever Ollie saw behind his closed eyes gave him joy. A blissful smile he had not shared with anyone other than her for weeks.

“I’ll wait for you, T” Ollie smiled, opening his eyes for a final time. “I’ll wait for you in, heaven.”

He was gone. The machine chimed a hateful monotone hum that echoed against my eardrums. His hand went limp in mine as he took his final breath. His frail body lay lifelessly in the hospital bed, I quickly grew to despise. But his soul was free. I carried on talking to him as he made his journey to heaven. I was sure he’d go to heaven. I sung to him in a whisper that only the two of us could hear.

“Just gonna stand there and watch me burn.
Well that’s alright because I like the way it hurts.
Just gonna stand their and hear me cry,
Well that’s alright because, I love the way you lie”

They say hearing is the last sense to go, so I decided his would go with the lyrics of Ollie’s favourite song. My lips trembled as they formed the words but I would make It through the song, for Ollie.

The doctor came rushing in to the death-stricken roam, 2 minutes too late. My insides conjured a wild hatred for the doctor. He was too late to let my brother go in peace, without the pain that killed him from the inside until his body was just a lifeless shell. But it was no time for blame. I was ushered out of the crowding room; they hoped to save me from the trauma of seeing the corpse of my baby brother. But nothing could save me from the villainous throbbing of my breaking heart.