Unrealistic

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Eric

"I was thinking the other day when I was in the hospital," Be begins.

"Yeah," I encourage her to continue.

"They have horribly ugly ceilings. The white cardboard looking tiles are just the most unattractive things I've ever seen. I know that when... it happens, I'll probably be in a hospital and I don't want those ceiling tiles to be the last thing I see. That would be rather anti-climactic, I do all these things on the Bucket List just to die looking at hideous ceiling tiles," she jokes.

I try my best to laugh. After the first, of what the doctor says will be many episodes, Be has taken to making light of her condition. Her dad says it's a coping mechanism and that she can deal with this kind of stress at her age. I truly hope that this stage ends as quickly as it began, laughing about my best friend's death isn't pleasant.

"So what do you propose?" I ask from the purple bean bag on Be's bedroom floor.

"I want to fall asleep looking up at the stars one night. That way when I am in the hospital staring at that pitiful excuse of an emergency room ceiling I can conjure up the memory of the stars floating up above me," she suggests.

"I don't think you want us to do that tonight though do you?" I hoped not, it was pouring rain outside just a short while ago and the yard looked like one gigantic puddle.

"Of course not, I have plans for today. I got my dad to go out last night and get all the supplies. We will be making," she pauses for dramatic effect, "paper lanterns!"

I heaved myself off the bean bag to lean against the wall next to the hefty bag of supplies Be had mentioned. She slid down beside me and flipped open her laptop to search for instructions.

HOW TO MAKE PAPER LANTERNS:

Cut a shot strip off the end of the short side of your paper.

Fold the leftover paper in half then unfold the sheet.

Cut one inch a part strips in your larger piece of paper. Remember to not cut the all the way through on either end. Glue the end of your large sheet of paper together. Glue the short piece of paper like a handle to the inside of one end of your lantern.

Four hours, two sticks of glue, and nine sheets of paper later Be is holding a perfectly made lantern and I am holding a pile of shredded paper coated in glue. She takes one look at my pitiful excuse for a lantern and laughs.

"Why don't you try starting over; I'll help you this time," she reaches back into the bag for a fresh sheet of paper.