@olivergreen2458

3 years ago

I had to type it all down because Ive written it on paper and it took me a while to remember that I wanted to post this but here you go. This is a short story that I got inspired to while listening to this song. The messenger did not return. "Maybe he didn't make it to the city" He had to, she thought, folding her hands as if praying. "Maybe he didn't make it," the little brother repeated. A boy barely taller than the tabletop. "Don't say that!" the woman scolded. "What if he's right?" the man asked anxiously. "We would just have to hope and pray," the woman replied. "Hoping and praying is not enough for me! I want to go and get the medicine myself!" "Don't be a fool!" the old lady groaned. "There's a blizzard raging outside!" "I can't stand idly by any longer," the man objected. His features darkened. Became deadly serious. He picked up his lumberjack jacket and dog leash. "I'll be there in a few hours." "Please don't go!" "You know I'm always here for you. And now I have to look after the right." He took the woman, driven to tears, in his arms. "Don't cry. I'll be back soon." He broke away from the embrace. Then he left the warm hut. He took the dog with him. "What's wrong?" a hoarse voice asked softly, coughing weakly. "Nothing. Just rest, please." "Has the doctor come yet?" "I'm afraid not, my dear," the woman said, "Your father is going to see him. He must have been delayed. Because of the snowstorm." "Arigiano, not so fast! Heel!" The dog ran off in front. Deep in the glistening snow, the man could make out his paw prints. The wild wind whistled around his ears. His cap barely protected him from the cold. The snow that briefly thawed on his skin froze in seconds to form small icicles in his beard. There was only one direct route he could take. Hardly used at this time of year. He had decided to cross it on foot for safety reasons. The old bridge looked unstable and was also very old. Slowly he approached. Arigiano close on his heels. The ice that had biked on the thick planks creaked. He hesitated. Almost he was afraid. No, e had to do it. A life for a life if he had to. Slowly, he set foot on the suspension bridge. The ice was snarling again. The wind was just blowing milder. Instead, the ground was slick and slippery. He also put the other foot on the bridge, which held him spring and especially in summer also cars. He put more steps on the wood covered with ice. For a moment he stopped. In the distance the wind howled. His cap had long since turned snow-white. Soon he would feel strong gusts again. He heard his shouts resounding. Maybe it was despair. For a moment he didn't care about anything. Arigiano in front he ran off heedlessly. And he seemed to make it, with only lighter pushes from the side. Then the wind grabbed his legs and pulled them away. He fell with his face on the cold boards. He hit the ground. The bridge shook. He slid toward the edge. Helplessly, he tried to hold on to one of the boards, which were now swinging as well. Deep below him, the unknown, obscured by a thick blanket of snow. His pulse rose above 110. He had long since let go of Arigiano's leash. He waited excitedly on the other side. Barked. I wonder if he understood his position. "Acacio, now pull yourself together! You've got to pull yourself up! Come on! You can do it!" But the swaying from the storm and the fall and the slickness made it almost impossible. His fingers were already turning fiery red. With the next push, he let go. His body fell into the depths. His time stood still, yet it raced past him. He saw his life pass before his eyes. His heart exploded. Arigiano's bark was the last thing he heard. Her breathing caused whistling. Speaking was getting harder and harder for her. "Will he come back?" the little girl pressed out. "I'm sure he will, you know him!" her brother answered from a distance. "My body hurts so much." "You've got quite a fever, too, my dear," said the mother. The old lady then added dryly, "Diphtheria. Many have died of it." "Did you have to do that now, mother?" A hot tear rolled down the little one's cheek. "I don't want to die!" He woke up. Above him a collapsed blanket of snow. How had he survived that? He sat down and felt stabbing pains. . Right side of his chest, his one leg. His left elbow. He could hardly put any weight on his leg. He crawled out of his hole and looked around. Next to him he found a thick branch. It looked sturdy enough to support his weight. He spent the next hour trying to find a way back up. With his injured leg, his vulnerable body, no easy challenge. Arigiano's barking, suddenly heard again in the storm, finally directed him to a small path out of this ravine. But even as he stood at the other end of the bridge, in the city he was not yet. In surrounded wide fields and forest. He pulled himself together after a pause, ran to the next intersection and waved frantically to attract attention. When the black hearse stopped, Acacio explained his situation. The man at the wheel offered him a ride all the way to the clinic. That's where he had to go anyway. Acacio accepted. Once at the hospital, he insisted on a quick doctor's appointment. He himself did not want any treatment. It had already been 8 hours since his departure, when a specialist called him in, who first wanted to examine him. Probably due to the blood on his temple. After everything was explained, the doctor sent him away with an antitoxin and a blister of penicilin. He was to go to the country doctor. The way back he let himself be driven to the bridge. There he grabbed the branch he had left behind and stood on the cliff edge. Then he tied the medicine with a message to the dog's collar and sent him off. Off he went home. "I'll always be here for you." He let go of the leash and remained in the cold.

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