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I dunno if I've posted this here before. It's been awhile since I've been on Gaia.
Anyway, this is just a short something I wrote on a whim one day while I didn't feel like doing my history homework. Enjoy. And leave comments. I like comments.
Well, I like nice comments, so if you don't like it, then...don't leave a comment, I guess. ^^
It's like the world is crying with me.
The rain pattered steadily against the glass panes. I leaned my elbows on the table and rested my head on one hand. I pushed the textbook that was sitting in front of me to the side and rested my head upon the cool surface of the desk.
Closing my eyes, I allowed my mind to wander back to then...
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked worriedly, gazing at my boyfriend of two years in concern.
He nodded as he fought to catch his breath. "What's happened to you?" I asked, placing my hand on his arm. "Why do you suddenly seem so weak and tired all the time?"
"I'm not weak," he growled, brushing my hand off.
"I'm just trying to help," I said as tears sprang to my eyes.
He looked at me and his eyes softened. "I'm sorry," he said. "I've just been stressed. And you know I got hurt during hockey practice."
"But injuries don't make you lose, like, 50 pounds in a month!" I cried. "What happened? You were never this thin!"
"So what, I was fat before or something?"
I sniffed but smiled. "I’m just worried," I murmured as he wrapped his arms around me. He stayed silent.
We stood there as the rain began to fall; content just to be in each other's arms.
That was the last time we would be able to touch like that.
My cell phone rang. One ring, two rings— "Hello?" I said.
Not twenty seconds later I was running out the door and into my car.
Ten minutes later I was at the hospital, jabbing the button to call the elevator in a panic. It's not true, it's not true, this isn't happening, it’s all a bad dream... The elevator finally came.
I burst out as it came to the sixth floor. Skirting around several nurses and doctors and ignoring their disapproving glares, I skidded to a stop when I saw his parents. "What happened?" I asked.
They just looked at me sadly and I hurried in.
And there he lay, on a white hospital bed, connected to all sorts of weird tubes and machines.
My breath got stuck in my throat as he grinned weakly at me. "How...what...why..." I could only stare in shock and stutter.
"This isn't how I planned on you finding out," he said, sitting up and leaning on one elbow.
There was a small click as his parents shut the door to give us some privacy. I collapsed in the chair next to his bed. "How long have you known?" I asked quietly.
"For a couple months now."
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
"I didn't want to worry you."
We stared at each other in silence.
"How much longer?" I finally asked. I had to know.
He shrugged and grinned. "How can you sit there and smile?" I asked, my voice rising every second. I stood up. "You're going to DIE SOON!! And you're sitting here acting like we're at some sort of...of carnival!!"
He laughed, but his laughter turned to hacking coughs. I fell back into my chair as he said, "I’m sorry."
"You should be."
"My goal is to be as annoying as possible until my last breath."
"Don’t talk like that."
I felt as if someone had dropped a boulder into my stomach and knocked my heart into pieces in the process. "How's your day been?" he asked me.
I shook my head. "I can't do this," I whispered. "How can you be so carefree when you know you're going to die?"
He looked at me, a sad smile on his face. "Because I know that I'm going somewhere to be free of the pain."
I reached out to brush my fingers against his skin. "What's that damn beeping sound?" I asked. There was a beep! Beep! BEEP! sound cutting through my thoughts.
"The heart monitor."
My heart stopped as I looked at it. The lines weren't as high as they were before when I'd glanced at it as I'd stormed in. "No..."
I ran out. I couldn't take it. There he was, ready to die, with a smile on his face. I couldn't do it. This isn't happening. I'm going to wake up, and I'll be in my bed, with a book and a cup of hot chocolate, and I'll be on the phone with him. This is all it is: a bad dream, a nightmare... I tried desperately to convince myself that this wasn’t true. I finally stopped at the end of the hallway and opened the window, letting the breeze blow over me. I stood there for a moment to catch my breath. My phone vibrated. I pulled it out of my pocket. It was a text message from his mom. (My mom had never learned how to text message.) Simple message, three words that made my heart stop again: "He needs you."
Oh no...Please tell me...no...it can’t be...
I returned to his room where his parents were standing outside. I entered, and they followed, waiting and dreading the inevitable fate. There was no denying it now.
This wasn't a bad dream.
This was reality.
But in my fantasies, he wasn't dying, and we were graduating high school together, going to college, getting married, having kids...Nowhere in there does it say: "He dies at the age of 18."
But fantasy isn't reality.
And reality is harsh.
It hurts a whole hecka lot.
I sat down next to him again. His parents were standing at the foot of his bed; his mother was shaking and tears were spilling from her closed eyes. His eyes were closed; his breathing was shallow. "Please open your eyes," I begged. I wanted to lose myself in his emerald green eyes that made my knees go weak and made my heart soar. I wanted to feel his touch that made me shiver. I wanted to kiss him; to see the fireworks that seemed to never end; I wanted to be able to fly. I wanted him to live. "Please don’t close them."
He cracked open his eyes and smiled at me. A very weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. I could feel the sting of tears waiting to fall. But I would let him see me smiling one last time.
"Abbey..." He fought for breath. "Abbey, you know..."
I reached out and squeezed his hand. His eyes closed. "Please," I begged. "Don't close them yet. Not yet. Hang on."
"You know that I..." He was fighting a losing battle, and both he and I knew it. I couldn't escape these nightmares, but I wanted to so badly. "You know I love you."
"I love you too," I whispered, squeezing his hand as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "My eyelids are...so... so heavy..." he mumbled as he closed his eyes again.
"No," I whispered. "Don't close them. Open them again. Keep your eyes open."
Hot tears cascaded down my cheeks as his hand held mine tightly and he managed to crack his eyes open. "Abbey, remember..."
"What?" My tears were leaving wet spots on the white sheets.
"Remember...I will always love you..." he murmured as he gave in. "I..."
Tears blurred my world and I wiped them away. But they kept falling. His body suddenly stiffened, and then...
His hand slipped out of mine and dropped limply to the bed. "No," I whispered, holding my hand to my mouth. "No." I grabbed his hand again. "Please, open your eyes. Say something. Anything!"
My body shook with sobs as it finally set in: I would never again fall into his warm embrace. I would never again sink into those eyes that made my legs turn to jell-o. I would never hear his voice wash over me. I would never again feel his touch upon my skin.
He would never wipe away my tears for me again.
He wasn't the victim here.
I was.
He wasn't suffering.
I was.
He wasn't alone.
I was.
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