Shattered Hearts

By princess-elli100

Story One: The Stuff You Read About

It was a stormy night. The clouds rolled in faster than it has in a long while. Harris was of course out on his route. He was such a reliable, hard-working man. He would go out in the dead of winter in sweltering cold weather just to deliver that sweet little love letter that could change someone's life, or that paycheck that puts food on the families' table.

I jump as the emptiness of my library is filled with the clattering sound of thunder. The small building is filled with natural light of the lightning, despite the lights being off.

I had lit three scented candles as I cuddled up on my desk with my favorite blanket and the newest book that had just arrived for the library's use. It was a medical story based on true events. The young man in this story had caught a deadly virus.

About halfway threw the book, Harris had stepped inside, soaking wet. I immediately jumped up and got him a towel.

To my suprise, he held out his hand and shook his head.

"What's wrong, honey?" I ask, a hint of sadness in my voice.

"I don't need it," he says in a deeper voice than usual. "I'm going to bed," and with that, he exits the house. I'm left there, my mouth agape in complete suprise. What's wrong with my husband? He never acts like this... ever since we got married, he wanted to spend every little moment he had with me. I admit, it did get a little annoying, but now that he didn't want to stay and cuddle by the fire makes me regret taking advantage of the little time we do have with each other.

I sigh and sit back on my chair, cuddle up under the blanket, and continue reading.

The next day, Harris didn't come to visit me. he always visits me at the library before going on his route!

I exit the library, locking it up. Some people might say I'm overreacting to this, but I don't care. I'm going to check on my husband.

I entered our bedroom in the small house that we share with my mother and father. I notice him laying in the bed as I walk in. He was laying on his side, so I couldn't see his face. As I walk over to the bedside, he lets out a small grunt.

"Why...aren't you at the library?" he muttered.

"Well, when you didn't come visit me this morning, I had to see if you were alright," I answered, putting my hand on his shoulder. He was shivering.

"You're not supposed to leave the library!" he snapped. I pulled my hand back in suprise. He sighed.

"It's just a little cold, okay? I'll be fine," he answered, coughing in between words.

I pursed my lips together. I really don't want to create an argument out of this...

"Alright. I'll be in the library if you need me," I said. Harris didn't even nodd in acknoledgement or anything; he just closed his eyes and pulled the blankets closer to his body.

The next morning, I was really starting to get worried.

"Haris, you need to see the doctor,"

"What doctor? This stupid town doesn't even have a doctor!" he snapped. His voice was very nasally and sounded weird. His nose was runny and he still couldn't deliver the mail. Since it was Monday, I offered to do it for him. That eliminated me taking him to the midwife. She's actually our village doctor. Harris is just not feeling well so of course he's grumpy.

The next morning, I called the midwife despite Harris' endless complaints and requests not too.

As she checked him, I sighed in relief as she said he'd be okay; just a cold.

"I told you," he muttered under his breath to me. Why is he being so cold towards me? He often gets sick, but he never acts like this...

I pushed away my thoughts as I thanked the midwife and walked her to the door out of our bedroom.

She immediately came back after hearing Harris cough again. My eyes filled with worry.

"What's wrong? I thought you said it was a simple cold!" I screamed, not meaning too, as she felt around his neck and temples, frowning.

"I..don't know," she muttered. I crossed my arms and shifted my weight to one leg, looking around impatiently. Oh how I wish he'd get better and we'd go back to regular living!

While the midwife checked him out again, I grabbed the book I was reading and sat at a chair by the bed.

I was right at the end when she finally spoke to me. I looked over at Harris. He was sleeping.

"Maria...I believe Harris has been infected by staphylococcus aureus," she muttered.

My brows raised. "What is that?"

She sighed. She must be tired of always having people ask that question. "It's pneumonia. Harris has pneumonia,"

I sighed in relief. "Oh good. So he'll be alright then, right?" I asked, trying to show my fearless side. Little did she know how much fear I did have inside. She could only imagine...

"Staphylococcus aureus is a very rare bacteria," she answered. She bit her lip and looked away uneasily. "Most...of the victims that are infected...well...die," I heard her whisper the word die.

Everything inside me broke. Unfortunately for me, I'm not like Ann or Karen; I wouldn't bounce up because there's a chance that the good might shine through. No, that's just not me.

Actually, I used to be like that. But now, I look at my life as a result of thinking like that. I am an unappreciated librarian that's considered nothing more than a bookworm loser.

"How..how did he catch this?" I finally was able to mumble.

"Well, he is a mailman. He probably caught it a while back from delivering in the bad weather," she answered. I nodded weakly. I had nothing more to say.

For the next few days, I stayed home from the Library and lined my husband's bedside. I didn't leave him for anything but to use the bathroom. I wanted to spend as much time with him.

About four days after the midwife's visit, I grabbed Harris's hand. His face was as pale as the moonlight in Fall and his head was burning with a fever. I had noticed he broke out in a rash the night before.

"Maria..." I heard him mutter. Oh my goddess! That's the first time he's spoken in days!

"Yes honey?" I could feel the tears starting to fill in my eyes.

"I..love you..." came the hushed voice of my beloved husband. Then, to my suprise, he started coughing. At first it was just regular coughing, then it started getting harder and more hoarse.

"I love you, too," I whispered. My eyes widened as he kept coughing and wouldn't stop. I frantically ran down the steps and out the door.

I didn't bother with knocking on the Midwife's door. I just barged in. Most people would find that offensive, but I could care less. My husband was dying and I didn't feel like dealing with formalities.

"Please! Come now!" I cried. She nodded and we both ran towards the house. When we got there, Harris wasn't coughing anymore. I sighed in relief, then that relief was completely washed away when I noticed his chest wasn't rising and falling to the rhythmic beat of his heart. I sulked towards his side and grabbed his hand; it was cold as ice.

I looked up with tears not fearing to fall. The midwife was looking down as she had her finger on his neck, trying to take his pulse. She pursed her lips together and made sure I wasn't able to see her face.

"He's gone...isn't he...?" I whispered. The dead silence gave me my answer.

As I sit here on my chair, in my Library, all alone... I reminisce about the happy days with us. As I picked up my book and read the last part, I realized; death... It's just like the stuff you read about.