I smile just like I did back in sixth grade as I sit here in the hospital chair, replaying her words in my mind. Her case of cerebral palsy isn’t a severe one, and it doesn’t affect her vocal abilities too much. She speaks just like a normal person would—no, better than normal. It’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. It’s soft and light and fragile, and you have to lean closer to make out the words. Some may consider it a pain to have to ask her to repeat things all the time, but I think it’s appropriate. A golden voice like hers shouldn’t come to your ears without a little work on your part in return.
I only hope I’ll have the chance to hear that voice again before she goes.
YOU ARE READING
The Fighter
Short StoryI wish I could say Bree was strong. “She’s a fighter,” the doctors say. “She can beat this.” But I know better. They just say these things so that we don’t give up on her, to let us hope she has a chance. In reality, she never did. ~Taken from The...
