You see the families in the picture frames in the shops. The ideal family with the mother, the father, the son and the daughter together at the beach. In my picture there maybe no father and there may be no beach but to me we deserved to be the family sold to the world as the perfect ideal family just for the smile that now reached my tired exhausted mothers face as she looked down at Jamie. The wires attached to Jamie did not matter.
I must of stayed there for quite sometime just watching him in his little cocoon of bedding, I chose not to notice the wires attached to his little heart or the monitors beeping around him. They were irrelevant to me for he was to be fine. He was my little brother Jamie and nothing in this world that was not yet corrupted, not yet stained or hurt, nothing that was still perfection could be justly taken away from us. It was not to be so.
Persistently however the noises crescendoed until even the faint beat of the heart could not overcome it any longer. I did not even have the chance to look away before I was whisked out of the hospital room and it was filled with a substantial amount of white, blue, pink coated people