The Kid Who Lived For Another Spring

By shell_ghostcage

The boy was made of innocence, but the nurse said it would fade away soon. His parents surrounded him in the dank hospital room where he lay on a cot. His mother cried the loudest, her sobs piercing the room with sadness as her husband embraced her stoically. The clock ticked away indecently through the silence. Tick. Tick. Tick. The boy didn’t have much time, and he knew that. He also knew that he was tired, and fatigued, and woeful. He wanted to live, but not just any life. He wanted to be a daring cowboy, or witty pirate, and a beautiful human. But most of all he wanted to travel all around the world.

His parents crouched down beside him. “Hey, kiddo,” his dad said soothingly, “it’s going to be alright.” He reached for the boy’s hand. “You know that, right?” The boy smiled weakly. He knew. “And we want you to know that mommy and daddy both love you so, so, very much.” At this his dad struggled to compose himself. Tears streaming down his face, he squeezed the boy’s hand tighter. “And it’s going to be alright.”

“Daddy,” the boy had to focus hard to say the word. “Can I travel the world?” His dad broke down hysterically. “Oh, honey,” his mom stepped in. She could hardly control herself either. “Oh sweetheart. Where’s your little friend?” she feigned searching around the room. “He can travel the world.”

The boy’s face lit up in recognition. “Kid. Kid’s over there.” he pointed past the clock and over to an empty space behind them.

His mom glanced at her husband. “Kid? Honey, I thought your imaginary friend was named Imagi.”

“But Kid’s not imaginary. He’s a real child, mommy.” The boy looked into his mother’s eyes to be sure she understood. “Kid can travel the world for me.”

And he did.

Kid traveled to India, to Scotland, to Malibu. He danced with the locals and ate unique cuisine. In spring, he ran through dandelion fields and blew the fuzz into the wind. He felt the sun shine against him on the warm days and felt the pitter patter of rain on the dark ones. And in the summertime, spent his days indulging in a creamy fizzy soda while sunkissed under an ocean blue sky. He learned how to make snow angels in December, when the frothy snow blanketed his head. And right when he thought it would last forever, the snow melted away, the flowers started to bloom, and it was time to smell the fresh scent of grass again. The world was a funny little place, Kid had found. It went round and round, but it always led back to spring.

On a particular spring day, Kid awoke under the shade of a willow. He’d enjoyed visiting Japan, and even more so he’d enjoyed Italy. They were both so vibrant, so full of life. He knew that of all the wonders he’d seen, the lively ones were the most special places to be. The world was beautiful that way. But he craved newer beautiful places and more sacred mysterious wonders. It was time for him to explore new places, beyond the earthly world, ones where he may exist in harmony forever. So he breathed in the crisp spring air one last time, rolling in the earth at the smell of it. He closed his eyes, and, with the boy, disappeared from existence.