Death's Love

by A.L.K.

Vacant The snowy wind swirled around Johnson's ankles. The cold is unbelievable. He pulls his long coat around him tighter, walking even quicker to his car. Johnson passes Santa's ringing bells and beggars on the street. It's not like he isn't a nice man or that he doesn't give, but he only gives to charities that he deems worthy. When Johnson finally reaches his car, he sighs with relief, and then his phone starts ringing, making him jump. He takes the phone out of his pocket, the number is unknown but he still answers. A woman's voice is on the other end.

"Mr. Johnson?


"There has been an accident."

Johnson is paying more attention now. He cannot think of anyone who would list him as an emergency contact. The woman on the other end sighs, "Mr. Johnson, I am sorry to report this but your sister, Mary, has died."

Johnson's mouth falls open and his heart begins to beat out of control. He struggles to maintain his control. Mary is his twin sister. They have not spoken for years, but this news sends an involuntary shiver through his body.


"Oh! Yes, have you notified her parents? Or do I have to make the arrangements?"

Johnson cannot even get the word funeral out of his mouth.

"Mr.Johnson, this isn't about the funeral. This about your nephew."

Silence. Johnson didn't even know he had a nephew, he hadn't talked to his sister in many, many years. Almost twenty years in fact, ever since he moved out when he was eighteen.

"Um, excuse me?"

"Mr.Johnson, Mary made it very clear that she wanted you to take care of her son."

"Right. Now, how old is he now?"

"He is sixteen."

Johnson shakes his head. Great, a teenager, he thinks.


"Yes,yes. What is his name?"


Johnson gulps. Mary gave her son his name?

"Mr Johnson?" T

His voice is edgier this time. “Oh, yes. Which hospital?”


"Right, I'm coming."

Johnson starts the car and speeds out of the parking lot. It took him 45 minutes to get to the hospital that was normally 2 hours away. He gets to the hospital and enters Mary's room. Sitting next to her bed was Bobby. Bobby is tall, maybe 6’2”, and his hair is blond like his mother's. He stands up with a face stained with tears. His dark brown eyes are full of pain. Bobby looks at Johnson and grabs him in a vice-like hug.



"Wheres your Dad?"

With those words, Bobby sits in the chair with his head in his hands. In a voice almost inaudible, he says, "I dunno."

"Right. Well, come on Bobby."

"Where are you going to take me?"

"Home. Bobby."

With fresh tears rolling down his pale face, Bobby looks at Jonhson and whispers, "Thank you. Thank you so, so much."

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