"NO! Please don't go!" the little 5-year-old cried, sitting between the beds. Tears were streaming down his face. "We gotta see that movie! You- you promised!"
"Sorry, sport *cough* something's come up." His father coughed.
"No sir, don't try to talk." A nurse in the room said. She was stopped by another nurse, putting her hand in the first one's shoulder.
"No don't." The second nurse whispered. "They don't have much time, let them make their peace." The little boy was still crying.
"Jason... could you tell us a poem from class?" The little boy's mother asked.
"Uh huh." Jason said, fighting back the tears. "Do not- *sniffle* do not go gentle, into that goodnight. Old age should burn, and rage at close of day. Rage, rage against the dieing of the light. Do not go gentle, into that goodnight." The little boy finished through his sobs.
"Thank... you..." The mother said as her grip on her son loosened.
"No! NO MOM NO!" The little boy jumped off his knees and began to shake his mother. "Don't go gentle into that goodnight! Don't go!" He sobbed even louder. Beep, beep, beeeeeee. Jason spun around quickly. "Dad no! Please stay!" Jason tried to say, but couldn't over his incredibly loud cries of lament. A nurse grabbed him by the arm and began to pull him out. Lot's of doctors rushed in and started to move frantically around his parents. He could have heard what they were saying, if the only thing he could hear wasn't the beep of the heart monitor telling Jason that his life, as well as his parents, was over. All he could think about was how his parents wouldn't try to stay with him.
"But... It's Christmas."
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn, and rage at the close of day;
Rage, rage against the dieing of the light.
Do not go gentle into that good night.