More Than This by Patrick Ness EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Patrick Ness
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Fiction about Death
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The first moments after the boy’s death pass for him in a confused and
weighty blur. He is dimly aware of pain, but mostly of a tremendous
fatigue, as if he has been covered in layer upon layer of impossibly heavy
blankets. He struggles against them, blindly, his thrashing increasing as he
panics (again) at the invisible ropes that seem to bind him.
His mind isn’t clear. It races and throbs like the worst kind of fever, and
he is unaware of even thinking. It’s more some kind of wild, dying instinct,
a terror of what’s to come, a terror of what’s happened.
A terror of his death.
As if he can still struggle against it, still outrun it.
He even has a distant sensation of momentum, his body continuing its
fight against the waves even though that fight has already been lost. He
feels a sudden rushing, a surge of terror hurtling him forward, forward,
forward, but he must be free of his body somehow because his shoulder no
longer hurts as he struggles blindly through the dark, unable to feel
anything, it seems, except a terrified urgency to move –
And then there is a coolness on his face. Almost as of a breeze, though
such a thing seems impossible for so many reasons. It’s this coolness that
causes his consciousness – His soul? His spirit? Who’s to say? – to pause in
its fevered spin.
For an instant, he is still.
There’s a change in the murk before his eyes. A lightness. A lightness he
can enter, somehow, and he can feel himself leaning toward it, his body – so
weak, so nearly incapable beneath him – reaching for the growing light.
He falls. Falls onto solidity. The coolness rises from it, and he allows
himself to sink into it, let it envelop him.
He is still. He gives up his struggle. He lets oblivion overtake him.
Oblivion is purgatorial and gray. He is passably conscious, not asleep but
not quite awake either, as if disconnected from everything, unable to move
or think or receive input, able only to exist.
An impossible amount of time passes, a day, a year, maybe even an eternity,
there is no way he can know. Finally, in the distance, the light begins to
slowly, almost imperceptibly change. A grayness emerges, then a lighter
grayness, and he starts to come back to himself.
His first thought, more vaguely sensed than actually articulated, is that it
feels as though he’s pressed against a cement block. He’s dimly aware of
how cool it is under him, how solid it feels, like he’s clinging to it lest he fly
off into space. He hovers around the thought for an indeterminate amount of
time, letting it clarify, letting it connect to his body, to other thoughts –
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