I hate writing long author notes, but I have this to say:
Hello!
Well I certainly have gotten some wonderful reviews from most people. Thank you again for your support. However, I was a little offended by one particular person's reviews. You can go look and find them if you are interested. I will not defend my story. I am who I am and I write the way I write. Anybody can have his or her own opinions and that is what a review system is set up for, but don't you dare abuse the privilege that you have been given. People are supposed to use reviews to maturely discuss points of a fiction or show their admiration for the story or writer. The review system is not set up to advertise your filthy language or immature wish to show power over someone. Get over yourself.
I still find it very interesting that this one person said that my writing is "inexperienced." I have written many professional pieces of fiction throughout my life and have been very well paid by major publishing companies. I am very glad that the majority of the population does not hold this person's views. I thank God for reviewers like Espantalho, WarrinPeace, MaeAnn, Anna, Artemis, Amberzlove, un jour or l'autre, optimouse, and all the other wonderful reviewers. You make sharing a story worth the effort. I love Sky High and all the characters and I love writing for the enjoyment. That is what matters.
Love ya,
Fiery Peace
Part 6I couldn't stay. I couldn't watch Warren die. I turned to run when I was caught up short, quite literally. Something had wrapped around one of my wrists that was still touching the bed. Gasping, I turned to see Warren's hand gripping my arm. Warren was holding on to my wrist! With my strength I could have easily broken his soft hold, but it was one of the most wonderful sensations to feel his weak grip. It wasn't over yet.
"Warren?" I whispered to his still form before saying louder, "Warren can you hear me?"
"Will?" Ms. Peace questioned confused.
"He's holding my wrist," I said happily before redirecting my focus on Warren, "Warren can you hear me? Squeeze my wrist if you can hear me."
We all watched Warren as we waited to see if he would respond. A small squeeze answered my question and my large smile made everybody whoop with delight. Suddenly Warren seemed to start having some kind of a fit. His grip left my arm as he thrashed weakly on the bed. Ms. Peace and I worked as one to help hamper any movements that would hurt Warren. Someone must have gone to fetch the doctor because Ms. Peace and I were suddenly pulled away from him so the doctor and nurses could work. Before we knew it the doctor had removed the tube from Warren's throat and put a new breathing mask over his nose and mouth before turning to everybody with a smile on his face.
"He was fighting the tube in his throat," the doctor said with a smile, "He felt like he was choking and his body reacted. He's bouncing back folks. This is truly miraculous."
"So he…he's going to live?" Ms. Peace stammered out.
"Someone is looking out for your son Ms. Peace," the doctor said gently, "It looks like Warren is going to be with us a lot longer than we thought. His vital signs are growing stronger."
"Oh thank you!" Ms. Peace sobbed as she hugged the doctor and then surprised me by throwing her arms around me and giving me a great bear hug, "I don't know what you said to bring my baby back to me, but thank you Will. Thank you."
I was stunned. Had Warren heard me when I had said goodbye to him? Was he really reaching out to me? The doctor made all of us leave so Warren could get some rest. Ms. Peace refused to leave her son's side and promised me that I could take the next shift. I think I might have been adopted.
"Honey what did you say to Warren?" my mother asked me out in the hallway as everyone eyes turned to me.
"Something private," I said with a shrug wiping my tears of joy away, "Something meant for Warren's ear only. Please don't ask."
Thankfully my family and friends let the subject drop and we all went out to The Paper Lantern to celebrate and let Warren's employers know that Warren was on the mend. I used to hate Chinese food, but now I crave the stuff, which strangely parallels the exact moment when I realized that I could visit Warren when I came to eat. Afterwards, Layla and the others went home. I wanted to go back to the hospital, but my mom and dad said that I was going home to get a "proper nights sleep." But I was unable to fall asleep for quite some time and simply tossed and turned.
"Did Warren hear me?" I thought desperately, "Will he be angry at me for loving him? Will he not want me near him anymore or will he feel disgusted by me? What if he hates me?"
I felt panic-stricken. I meant what I said about not being able to live without him in my life. I could accept just friendship, but I couldn't handle hate. I finally fell asleep, but it was a restless sleep that left me feeling drained the next morning.
"You look horrible," my father said to me as he turned my head up to his that morning, "Did you get any sleep last night?"
"A little," I admitted, "I think that I'm just anxious to hear how Warren is doing."
Wow. That was a lie and I knew it. I just hope my parents didn't know it.
"Ms. Peace called this morning with great new," my mother said to me smiling brightly, "None of Warren's organs have suffered any lasting damage. With a lot of rest and time Warren will be back to his regular self."
"That's wonderful!" I said happily as I sat to eat breakfast, or rather brunch since it was a bit late in the morning, "When are we going to go back to the hospital?"
"When you have eaten this whole plate of food," my mother said firmly, "You haven't been eating right for nearly a week."
"Yes ma'am," I said rolling my eyes.
On the way to the hospital I started getting nervous again. Actually, I felt like my breakfast was going to make a return trip. What if Warren had heard what I said to him while he was unconscious? If he regained consciousness and was still weak, does that mean that I wouldn't be barbecued today?
"Will!" a much-improved looking Ms. Peace gushed while she pulled me into another bear hug as soon as I stepped off the hospital elevator, "Warren has regained consciousness. He has been asking for you."
"He…he has?" I asked weakly, "That's wonderful news."
"Well go one," she said in a motherly fashion, "He tires easily so keep all conversation short."
Ms. Peace smoothed my hair and then went to visit with my parents. Yep! I've been adopted. I guess I'm Will Stronghold-Peace now. I hope she still cares for me when Warren tells her the truth.
"You can do this," I prepped myself as I walked slowly to Warren's room, "Warren is not a cruel person. Even if he cannot feel the same way for you that you feel for him does not mean that he will hate you. Just breath."
I breathed out slowly and stepped into Warren's room. His bed was propped up more than before and he was lying with his eyes closed with his hands resting lightly on his chest. Was he sleeping? He had a tube across his face that fed extra oxygen to his healing lungs. His complexion was still paler than usual, but he had a little bit of color that was most welcome. His face seemed peaceful and no longer pinched with pain. My fingers ached to stroke his loose hair again. As I walked towards Warren's bed he turned his head slightly and opened his eyes to look at me.
"Oh God! I have missed those beautiful eyes," I thought to myself as tears pricked my own, "Thank you Lord. Thank you."
"Hi," he breathed softly in a very soft, whispery voice.
"Hi yourself," I said to him returning the small smile he bestowed on me.
"Need…talk," Warren wheezed out looking at me straight in the eyes.
"Oh crap!" I thought panicking.
To be continued…
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