Eternity (sequel to Deciphering Her Thoughts)

Maybe

Yo I just realized that I made the last chapter in second person instead of first person from your perspective. Oops.
Also I'm sorry if it ended up being really off topic; my friend and I just went off the last chapter and decided to just do a time skip because we couldn't bring ourselves to read it all or figure out where I was going with this. Rip.
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Chapter 18
Maybe
Your Point of View
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I let out a small laugh. It wasn't funny, but I still laughed.

"What are you talking about?" I ask. "How do seriously know you're going to die?" She closes her eyes. All of her movements are so slow that I can almost feel her pain.

"Sometimes you just know things," she responds. "I wrote a will; I've had this feeling for a while now." Another small laugh. And what god is she to know her own death date?

"The nurse said that you're fine."

"Where?" she asks. "All I feel is pain and myself slipping deeper into the grave each day."

"I'm sure they know more about your well being than you think. They're doctors, nurses."

She looks to her left. I realize that she been avoiding looking to that side. I wasn't paying enough attention to notice before. About two-thirds of her left arm is missing.

"I'll have to learn to write with my right hand," she says. She exhales loudly. "The guy that hit me..." She pauses for a moment. "I overheard them say that his condition is critical; they don't think he'll make it. I'm fine for now, but I don't think it'll be for long."

"You won't be fine if you don't eat," I say, almost angrily. "I was told told that you weren't eating." I saw that the nurse, who was still in the room, gave a me a side glance. She must be worried too.

"I'm not hungry."

I shift in my seat. It's quite uncomfortable, and I just noticed my foot tingling, starting to go numb. Maybe I couldn't feel it due to all of me feeling numb, empty. I can't believe this is the same Penelope resting right in front of me. She was always so upbeat and gentle.

Penelope's bedroom was decorated in fake flowers, vines, and butterflies. She always said that she wanted a garden, but her family lived in an apartment. The floor of her bedroom was practically covered in toys, mainly fairies. I remember she would apologize to them if she accidentally stepped on one. Her small bookshelf was filled up with fantasy novels and Celtic mythology books. I was under the belief that she read every one of them, although she never told she that she did. We were ten, maybe. I remember when she got detention for passing a love letter to the girl who sat in front of her in class. She spent months trying to think of how to tell her that she like-liked her, and it was all ruined when the teacher snatched the letter away before the girl had the chance to even open it. She got detention for passing notes and was lucky that the teacher didn't read it to the class. I got into a fight that day so that she wouldn't be in detention alone. I stop reminiscing, and we both laugh after I remind her out loud.

"I never told her," she says.

"I don't think she's married," I say with a small smirk. She laughs.

"Maybe I should I ask her out if I do live."

"Maybe."

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I unpack my clothes and place them in the drawers in my hotel room. I hide my medicine bag then begin searching for the TV channel guide. I lie down on the bed and skim through the guide but don't find anything particularly interesting. I punch in a random number on the remote and change the channel until I find something that isn't a commercial. I rest my hands on my stomach and stare at my phone on the bedside table. I open the drawer to the bedside table, which has a magazine, the Holy Bible, and the Book of Mormon inside. I place my phone in and shut the door. I promised myself I would contact Dipper about my whereabouts once I checked up on Penelope, but I wasn't in the mood to talk about it now. She really thinks she's going to die. The dialogue playing on the TV sounds like gibberish as her words ring over and over in my head.