Comments

You must log in or register to comment.

Painting_Agency t1_it74u46 wrote

"Do you think you could go get me an ice cream, love?"

My daughter Jill, pushing my wheelchair, leaned over and smiled. "Sure thing, dad. Chocolate as always?"

"Sure. Or if they have fudge ripple, I'll have that. Feeling adventurous". I laughed, and regretted it as my usual choked cackle led to a minor coughing fit. I swallowed the blood just in time to avoid spitting it out, alarming her. She's seen it before, of course. She was there when the doctor told me: small cell lung cancer. Incredibly aggressive; by the time I started paying attention to my own body and realizing how I felt, it was already essentially untreatable. Stupid old man.

"I'll be back in a few minutes dad. I love you." Her voice trembling ever so slightly, as it did so often lately. She walked away. I knew it would be more than a few minutes; I'd seen the lineup at the kiosk as we went past earlier. A gorgeous day like this, everyone wants an ice cream cone.

Grunting with pain, I wheeled myself over to the edge of the seawall. Far below, the ocean crashed against the broken concrete blocks dumped in to prevent erosion. Hungry seagulls wheeled overhead, one flying past a metre from my nose as I peered over the edge. Lurching forward, I threw my arms over the railing. Thank God it wasn't higher... But I've been trying to keep my strength up, just for this. I'll only get one chance, after all. I heaved myself up pulling my torso forward farther out of my chair.

I never understood my "power". It didn't make any scientific sense. Not like the heroes in comic books, where they had a mutant gene or the yellow sunlight gave them super strength. It seemed like an arbitrary gift granted by... god? The universe? There were no answers. No one to ask about it. As a young man, after that fight, I thought that I could maybe use this ability to do some good. "Fight evil". But it turned out I was just really bad at fighting. I baited a few muggers walking through the park... The second one stabbed me in the stomach. I just barely managed to drag myself up a small tree and dive head first at the sidewalk. The next guy could have had a gun, and there's no climbing a tree with half your head missing. Stupid young man.

So instead, I became a firefighter. A lot of the guys on my squad were, despite their bravado, afraid of getting burned. Afraid of living out the rest of their life going through skin graft after skin graft, looking like something out of a horror movie. But not me. I knew that if worse came to worse, I could always take a plunge out of a window, and walk away. "Lucky me, I guess my helmet did its job!". And I did do good. We saved people's homes. We saved lives. And I never did have to jump out that window.

I guess the smoke got to me though. Maybe it was that big tire fire. Maybe when the chemical plant went up 10 years ago. Maybe it was just the cumulative damage of a few decades of asbestos and burning couch cushions. The cancer has been brutal. It moved fast and the treatment barely touched it. Believe it or not, I'd never actually tried to cure an illness using my power before. I didn't know what the rules were, after all. What if I didn't have an injury, and I jumped? Would it just kill me? I wasn't about to try that for a cold or flu.

But now? I'd try anything. I left a note in case it didn't work... Made sure the disease was advanced enough that, who could blame me? They knew I was in pain. But if it did work? I'd be a new man. "A remarkable recovery!" I'd get to see Jill graduate from dental school. Maybe see grandkids someday. Even marry again. Live a long, and oddly healthy, life.

I tipped myself over the railing.

52

armorhide406 t1_it7pd6l wrote

I choose to believe it only works for physical injury. So he hurts himself from the initial fall, Jill freaks out, but then he falls out of the hospital bed

13

IlikethequietZeppo OP t1_ita2e99 wrote

Thank you for responding to the prompt. It's cool that you took it so far into the future. I wondered myself about illness. Also does the height of fall matter? I think your story was great and stopped just at the right moment. A real cliff hanger....

Anyway, I enjoyed reading it.

7

Painting_Agency t1_ita3a53 wrote

> does the height of fall matter?

That tree couldn't have been very high if a guy bleeding to death climbed it 🤔

Glad you like, I don't do these very often but sometimes it's a good creative stretch.

2

sofDomboy t1_it9n8xs wrote

Whatever you choose to believe that's the perfect stopping point cause then the reader decides

4

AutoModerator t1_it4pt3e wrote

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

1