DISCLAIMER: Silent Hill 2 and its characters are the copyrighted property
of Konami; everything else is copyrighted to me. This is written out of
pure love for and obsession with this series, and I'm not making a dime
from this story.
//Words between slashes// connote thoughts.
The timeframe in this story jumps around a lot, but hopefully it shouldn't be too difficult to follow.
CHAPTER ONE/PROLOGUE: the wish
"James? JAMES?"
He woke abruptly, her voice slicing through his dreamless sleep. Before him, the TV had gone to a static pattern, the show he had been watching long since over and forgotten.
"Ja---" She was interrupted by ragged coughing.
Quickly he stood up, and raced down the hall to the spare bedroom where his wife's hospital bed had been set up. He flipped on the light switch to see Mary desperately clawing at the bedside table, trying to reach the carafe of water he'd left there for her. He poured a glass for her and tenderly lifted it to her lips.
She swallowed most of the liquid and then promptly knocked the glass out of his hands, sending it to the floor.
"Mary!" he gasped.
"It took you long enough," she hissed. "Jesus Christ! I'm sorry my illness is so *inconvenient* for you." She spat the words out like a bad- tasting medicine.
"Mary, I'm sorry. I was asleep and---"
"Yeah, whatever," she muttered, curling up on her side, facing away from him. Her voice thickened with tears. "Your husbandly duty is over. Go back to your own bed."
"Why don't you just die and leave me alone?" he whispered, too low for her to hear. Instantly ashamed, he turned off the light and backed out of the room.
//Words between slashes// connote thoughts.
The timeframe in this story jumps around a lot, but hopefully it shouldn't be too difficult to follow.
CHAPTER ONE/PROLOGUE: the wish
"James? JAMES?"
He woke abruptly, her voice slicing through his dreamless sleep. Before him, the TV had gone to a static pattern, the show he had been watching long since over and forgotten.
"Ja---" She was interrupted by ragged coughing.
Quickly he stood up, and raced down the hall to the spare bedroom where his wife's hospital bed had been set up. He flipped on the light switch to see Mary desperately clawing at the bedside table, trying to reach the carafe of water he'd left there for her. He poured a glass for her and tenderly lifted it to her lips.
She swallowed most of the liquid and then promptly knocked the glass out of his hands, sending it to the floor.
"Mary!" he gasped.
"It took you long enough," she hissed. "Jesus Christ! I'm sorry my illness is so *inconvenient* for you." She spat the words out like a bad- tasting medicine.
"Mary, I'm sorry. I was asleep and---"
"Yeah, whatever," she muttered, curling up on her side, facing away from him. Her voice thickened with tears. "Your husbandly duty is over. Go back to your own bed."
"Why don't you just die and leave me alone?" he whispered, too low for her to hear. Instantly ashamed, he turned off the light and backed out of the room.