Disclaimer: I swear, this is the worst part of this entire story thing... I
have to admit to everyone that Paul is not mine...
Sage of Darkness: Thanks for the encouragement... die hard fans are hard to find. And perhaps one day, Antibus and Paul will not be quite so... evil to each other.
Die-hard KH fan: The KH fan group is growing! I do believe there are more of us than we thought!
The boy stood there, working hard to remain standing. The name she had used – his name – brought back the memories of pain and sickness that he had suffered years before.
Before his death. The pain in his chest was growing and becoming more and more intense.
"There's no way this can be happening." He thought. "It stopped after I died... it went away!"
The disease had left years ago – after he had given up all hope of living – after he had at least accepted his fate. But now, with the memories of who he had been filling his mind, the pain had returned.
Who he had been... Paul had died – never to return. There was no name for who – or what – he was now. The pain – the disease – had no place within this body – it belonged to someone else.
He wasn't the boy who had died years ago – he wasn't Paul. Paul was gone – long gone, as was his disease. Slowly, the pain subsided.
The boy breathed deeply, glad to be able to breathe at all. He suddenly became aware of a group of doctors gathered around the child in the bed behind him.
The shrieking of the machine continued. One of the doctors shook his head sadly.
"We lost him."
The boy watched, slightly amused. Doctors considered themselves so brilliant. They gloated incessantly about their successes. But he knew the truth.
Kingdom Hospital was full of hypocrites. There was nothing they – or anyone else – could do when Mary decided to ring her bell.
Sage of Darkness: Thanks for the encouragement... die hard fans are hard to find. And perhaps one day, Antibus and Paul will not be quite so... evil to each other.
Die-hard KH fan: The KH fan group is growing! I do believe there are more of us than we thought!
The boy stood there, working hard to remain standing. The name she had used – his name – brought back the memories of pain and sickness that he had suffered years before.
Before his death. The pain in his chest was growing and becoming more and more intense.
"There's no way this can be happening." He thought. "It stopped after I died... it went away!"
The disease had left years ago – after he had given up all hope of living – after he had at least accepted his fate. But now, with the memories of who he had been filling his mind, the pain had returned.
Who he had been... Paul had died – never to return. There was no name for who – or what – he was now. The pain – the disease – had no place within this body – it belonged to someone else.
He wasn't the boy who had died years ago – he wasn't Paul. Paul was gone – long gone, as was his disease. Slowly, the pain subsided.
The boy breathed deeply, glad to be able to breathe at all. He suddenly became aware of a group of doctors gathered around the child in the bed behind him.
The shrieking of the machine continued. One of the doctors shook his head sadly.
"We lost him."
The boy watched, slightly amused. Doctors considered themselves so brilliant. They gloated incessantly about their successes. But he knew the truth.
Kingdom Hospital was full of hypocrites. There was nothing they – or anyone else – could do when Mary decided to ring her bell.