Earned 3 Points.
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"It started when I was small."
"The dreams came, and she was there. Red hair, freckles, and a smile. I could never remember the eyes or the rest when I woke up,
but I knew it was her by those. She was my age, it started when I was maybe 3 or 4, but she always aged with me."
"She was my first crush, 'Girl of my dreams'. I'd go sleep, and she'd be there, and we'd play. It wasn't the same as with my friends when I was awake, as it was a dream. I knew it was a dream. We could do anything. "
"I still remember the best castle we ever made. It was massive, and it had a moat and a dragon. She was my princess, and I her brave knight."
"I told my mother about her when I 6. She always spoke of her as my imaginary friend, which I always though was wrong. Imaginary friends are a daytime thing. She was my dream-girl."
"In my teens I grew depressed, as no women would ever live up to her. I met girls in the day, some very beautiful, but none like her. I still didn't know her name. "
"When I dreamed we never spoke. I knew what she was thinking instinctively. Obviously because it was just my brain making her up, but it didn't change the fact I loved her. "
"I was 24 when I met your mother. She was quite the beauty in her day you know."
"She'll be along in a minute Dad." The younger man leaned over the bed and wiped his fathers brow.
"Well, she already knows this story, so I'll keep telling it to you, and if she wants to here it as well I'll tell it again."
The son smiled. It was so like his dad to assume everybody was interested in him.
"Where was I? Ah yes your mother. She was a cracking good looking girl when she was younger. We met in my last year at university. She hated me instantly. Thought I was full of myself. Took me ages to convince her I was as wonderful as I am." The old man smiled at the memory. "She was jealous at first. At bedtime she'd taunt me, tell me I was visiting the other woman. I knew she was making a joke to hide the hurt, but it's not like I was doing it on purpose."
"After we started dating, the dreams of the girl changed. In our teens we were.. well I'll spare the details and use the word 'frisky'.."
"Dad, please"
"..but now things were more demure after I met your mother. A little more... distant. We'd just sit next to each other on a grassy hill, and enjoy the scenery. I still loved her but we never felt as close again. As things progressed with your mother, we got married when I was 27, and had you two years later"
"Dad, I do love your stories, but why are you telling me this story now?"
The older man ignored him, and carried on "I still dream of her even now. But after so many years when I sleep I dream that I'm on one hill, and I can see her on another hill nearby. She just sits there, and we watch the scenery, and each other. She's older now. She has less wrinkles than me, and her hair has faded to a coppery colour, but I still recognise her, even if I can't remember her eyes when I wake up."
The older man coughed. And then continued coughing. His son passed him a tissue to cough into. His eyes began to sting as he caught sight of the blood in the tissue.
As the coughing subsided, and his dad lay back in bed, he decided to ask again "Why are you telling me this story dad. It's not that I'm not interested, but it feels a bit.. personal isn't it?"
The father smiled, and spoke again, this time slightly wheezy. "Well, your mother knows the story, but she won't live forever. and I thought... after I'm gone, I'd like somebody to remember her. And your sister would never sit through a story this long."
"Yeah, she has her mothers patience and her fathers ego." he said looking at his fathers haggard face.
"And you got my bad jokes, and your mothers common sense." They smiled together.
The door opened and a middle aged women walked in, followed by a girl in her teens. He muttered "speak of the devil... Hi mum, sis". The son got up and walked around the bed to hug his mother, in which time his sister slipped in and stole his chair."
"Hello old man, you look terrible" she beamed down at him. He knew it was just a strong front she put on when she saw him. He was glad, as it would have broken his heart to see her cry.
"What have you two been up to?" the older woman asked.
"Not much" answered the son. "Dad was telling me a story about a red-head".
Mother gave man in the bed a look "Oh was he now?". She had been crying. She'd done her makup again, but there was redness in her eyes. He hated making her cry.
"And I was nearly finished" he was wheezing a lot more now. "As I was saying we're distant these days but she's still there, when I dream." He looked at his wife "And you're still jealous of her" he smiled. "You know I chose you."
"Only because she was imaginary dear" but she had a half smile when she said it.
He was breathing heavily at this point, almost gasping for breath.
"Dad are you alright? you've gone really pale" the daughter spoke this time. It was unusual for her to drop her care-free facade.
"Just the cancer making it hard to breath" he wheezed, before sitting up into a coughing fit. When the coughing subsided he was
struggling to breath and white as a sheet. After ten seconds had passed it seemed to be getting worse. The mother looked at her daughter "pull the emergency bell".
A few moments later a siren was going off in the hall, and in under a minute a crash team came through the door. A slightly older nurse, maybe in her early fifties with bright coppery hair, and a younger man carrying a box of equipment.
They rushed over to the bed, the family moving out the way to one side when the nurse suddenly stopped. "You!?"
He looked her in the face, struggeling for air, but astonished at what he saw. It was her.
The younger fellow got to work, pulling his night gown off and listening to his chest with a stethoscope. "Alright nurse both lungs are filling with fluid we're going to have to drain them and give him oxygen, if you can get me..."
His voice muted into the background of noise, as more people rushed into the room. The man and his dream girl were just staring at each other as he struggled to breath. She had brown eyes. How could he forget. He looked at name badge. Sarah, the name never
knew.
He couldn't breath at all at this point. The doctor was doing something to his chest. He felt a pressure in his head and a growing weakness in his left side.
He looked at Sarah one more time and mouthed the words..."I guess you leave me breathless" before everything went black.
© Mark Langridge
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