MidReal Story
Whispers of Eternal Grace
Scenario: Write about a hospital worker named angelina who meets a patient named Lucas bennet who always have a massive smile on his face despite the fact he has fatal familial insomnia and knows hes going to die a write about the love and friendship they start making together and make it very sad and deppressing
Create my version of this story
I remember the first time I met Lucas Bennet.
It was a cold, dreary day in the hospital, and I had just started my shift in the palliative care unit.
I was assigned to care for a new patient, a young man named Lucas Bennet.
He was diagnosed with fatal familial insomnia (FFI), a rare genetic disease that would eventually lead to his death.
There was no cure, and no treatment could slow down the progression of the disease.
As I walked into his room, I saw him sitting on his bed with a constant smile on his face.
He looked so pale and frail, but there was something about him that made me feel at ease.
I introduced myself as his caregiver and asked if he needed anything.
He just smiled and shook his head.
I couldn’t help but notice how thin he was, how his bones seemed to poke out from under his skin.
But what struck me most were his eyes—big, brown eyes that seemed to look straight into my soul.
I walked into the hospital room, my heart heavy with the knowledge of Lucas Bennet’s condition.
It was unlike any other room in the palliative care unit.
The walls were bare, save for a few sketches that adorned them.
A small collection of books sat on the shelf, hinting at a life once lived to the fullest.
Lucas himself sat on the edge of his bed, his thin frame and pale complexion a mere shadow of the person he used to be.
He turned towards me as I entered, and in that moment, I was struck by his presence.
There was a serenity about him, a light that seemed to emanate from within despite the darkness that surrounded us.
His eyes were the color of milk chocolate, deep and empathetic, and they seemed to smile at me even before his lips did.
But it was his smile that truly captivated me.
It was a constant fixture on his face, making it impossible for me to discern if he was happy or sad.
But there was a warmth to it, an openness that made me feel welcome.
“Hello,” I said, stepping further into the room.
I’m Angelina Hart, your caregiver.”
He studied me for a moment, taking in my full appearance before answering.
It was then that I noticed he had been drawing in a small sketchbook on his lap.
“I’m fine, thank you,” he said with a smile.
I smiled back at him, unable to contain my reaction.
It was infectious, that smile of his; even the gloomiest day would be brightened simply by being in his presence.
I sat down across from him in the chair by his bed, taking stock of his surroundings once more as I did so.
The room was small but comforting, filled with little touches of home like the sketchbook and books on the shelf.
There were no flowers or balloons or get-well cards in sight, only a few family photos that had been taped to the wall beside his bed.
I turned my attention back to Lucas, who had begun to sketch once more.
“Do you like to draw?”
I asked, leaning forward slightly in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what he was working on.
He paused momentarily and looked up at me, his expression unreadable.
I like to do many things,” he said after a moment, “but drawing is one of my favorites.”
I nodded, shuffling through the papers in my hands as I did so.
“There’s not much information about you in your file,” I said, keeping my voice light and conversational.
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”
“I’m twenty-three,” he replied, setting down his pencil and closing his sketchbook.
“And what about you?”
he asked, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand as he studied me intently.
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-eight,” I replied with a smile, “but I try not to think about it.”
“How long have you been working here?”
“This is my first day,” I said, feeling a slight flush rise to my cheeks at the question.
I’d worked in other departments of the hospital before, but this was my first time working with terminally ill patients and their families.
I knew it would be difficult, but I also knew it would be rewarding, and that was what I needed right now—something to fill the emptiness that consumed me when I was alone with my thoughts.
The memories of what could have been and what should have been.“Well, I hope this won’t be too boring for you then,” Lucas said with a smile as he opened his sketchbook once more.
“I’ll try not to be too much trouble.”
“I don’t think you could be any trouble at all,” I replied, feeling my heart warm at the sentiment.
I’ll remember that.”
And I did, just as I remembered everything else about that day—the way the light streamed through the windows and filled the room with a golden glow, the way I had to blink back tears when Lucas Bennet smiled at me for what would be the last time, the way my heart ached when I read the words “do not resuscitate” in his file and realized that there was nothing any of us could do to save him now.
But most of all, I would remember how it felt to be in that room with him, how it felt to be in the presence of someone who knew he was dying and yet still managed to fill the room with so much light and love and life.
It was my first day on the job, my first day of a new life, and even though there was so much to do—the rounds to make, the schedules to finalize, the new patients to meet—I couldn’t bear to leave Lucas Bennet alone.
“Is everything okay?”
I asked, the second time, as I settled into the chair beside his bed where I’d already spent so many hours since that first day, holding his hand, reading his favorite books, and trying to talk away the pain that seemed to fill every room on this floor.“Do you need anything?”
He didn’t answer me, not in words, but when he turned his gaze to mine, I saw it there—that same light that had filled the room on my first day, that light that seemed to be a part of him, a part of his very soul.
He smiled at me then, and even though we both knew there was so much more left to say, we sat in silence for a long time, until we heard someone coming down the hall—a nurse, other nurses, who came to check on Lucas every few hours now, who came because they needed to make sure he was still alive, still breathing, still holding on, for this was not a place where miracles happened, not for long anyway, and it was taking all of us by surprise to see his smile, to hear his voice, for even a moment more.
The silence stretched between us then, as it had so many times before, but this time, it was different.
This time, it was heavy with things left unsaid, with goodbyes and regrets and things we would never have again, and even though Lucas Bennet’s smile never faltered, I could see it in his eyes, in the way they searched mine, in the way they begged mine to stay, to never look away.
“Angelina,” he said then, my name a whisper on his lips.
I thought you’d left.”
“I’m right here,” I told him, taking his hand in mine.
“I’ll always be right here.”
