A YEAR WITH HAYES

I've never been a religious type, I can remember way back then when I was five-ish. My mother and father would drive the entire two and a half miles to Saint Bridget’s Catholic church, just to sing, pray and give offerings to a God that they knew next to nothing about. I mean don't get me wrong, I don't believe the world was created by “the big bang” but, it certainly wasn't created by whoever it was they were praying to. Why did I think that? I didn't know for myself but, I knew for sure that he wasn't real. Now fast forward 19 years, both my parents are gone. I don't have anyone to call family, and the only person that I considered family was in a sick bed, barely hanging on to life, and I found myself praying to a God I didn't believe in. “Hey God, I don't know how to do this..” I whispered with my eyes closed. “But if my parents believed in you then, they certainly had a reason for that. I've never asked you for anything, just please save Billy.” I “prayed” for the first time since my parent's accident, and even then, I'm not sure I prayed. I just yelled at a God they believed in to save their lives. That incident is probably why I find myself not believing in him the more, and yet here I was, pathetically asking for something from God. I found myself hoping for a sign, anything that would give me hope that Billy would survive, then the door opened. I quickly stood up and looked up at doctor Rogers. He'd been Billy's doctor throughout his battle with lung cancer. Throughout my journey with doctor Rogers, I've learnt to read his facial expressions. He had one that meant things are not good-they're always bad- but he's fine for now, then there was the look that just said he's getting worse, which was what he was wearing now. I just let out a heavy sigh and bent over planting my palms on my knee. “He's stable for now but…” doctor Rogers paused and I knew what he was about to say “....he needs the surgery adah” and there it was, there was a solution to Billy's problem, a very expensive one that is. One that a 24 year old dropout like myself couldn't afford. “I know Dr Rogers, but you know I don't have that type of money for the surgery” I said, and he gave me this sympathetic look that he always gave, knowing how hard it was for me. He gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder and left. I walked up to Billy's room and peered through the glass walls. This was as close as I could get to him sometimes, when his lungs got very weak. I looked at his resting form, he had tubes coming out from his throat and nose, he couldn't even breath without the help of those machines that were constantly beeping. He was asleep most of the day. It had been 3 days since I last spoke to him, and he looked way different from the billy I first knew. The billy who developed a passion for music recitals-which he hated with a passion- just because I loved them. The billy who saved the last bit of banana flavored cupcakes from the bakery he worked at just because I loved them. The billy who would put aside the little money he earned just to ensure that I had everything I wanted. The billy who saved my life. I couldn't help but think that if I lost Billy, I'd be losing a big chunk of my heart too. I didn't trust myself to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes so I decided to leave. The last thing I wanted was for Billy to wake up to me crying. I already felt guilty enough that I couldn't afford the surgery, I didn't want to cause him more trouble. I inched backwards, eyes still on Billy as I made my way out of the hospital. I turned around and slam! I came face first with a wall. “oow!” I winced. I think I broke my nose. I looked up and it turned out it wasn't a wall, standing in front of me was a man with a menacing scowl. s**t, I started to apologize when he started talking. “I've had enough of this s**t for today” he mummured and I gave him a look of utter confusion, did I do something wrong? “I don't know what is wrong with poor people like you” he bit out fuming. “Excuse me?” I asked, clearly confused at the insult. “ You people are always finding attention from people above your standards. Let me make it as clear as possible, I don't want you near me ever again you understand?” he bit out. I just looked at him perplexed, then the rage set in. “ You are such a d**k did you know that?” I said too angry to realize that- judging by the expensive suit he had on, and the entourage of bodyguards he had trailing behind him-I was probably talking back to someone rich enough to buy me and my entire family-well they're dead but still- “You think that just because you are rich and handsome, you have the right to walk over people like they are trash but guess what mister, you ain't s**t” I gave him a once over, he looked like he was ready to explode. “What did you just say?” He asked, as if daring me to repeat myself, and guess what, “You heard exactly what I said, you. Ain't. s**t” I did, and then I proceeded to walk out of the hospital seemingly calm at first, but once I was out of sight, I walked as fast as I could because I had an inkling that if I stayed there any longer, I'd be sued millions of dollars that I didn't even have. Well jokes on him, I had only twenty five dollars and sixty cents to my name. So he could suck on that. It wasn't until I was at home that I realized my stupid ass called him “handsome”