Leave A Message || Gallavich

Day two: reminiscing

So you're still reading? I figured after day one, most people would stop. But, since you're still here, I'll keep writing. Yesterday, after I finished breakfast, I slept the entire day. I was really tired.

When I woke up this morning, Mickey was gone. I bet you're disappointed, huh? I am. I've never liked the Milkovichs, let alone Mickey Milkovich himself, but he was really nice yesterday. He gave me his number. Not that I'm going to call him or anything.

Not much is going to happen today besides tests, tests, and more tests. I'm still not sure if the doctors are aware of my death date and just not telling me or if they have no idea. If they really don't know, they'll figure it out in 3 days. I bet I'll shock everyone then.

.

"Good morning, Ian." Lucille says as she walks into my room.

"I didn't know you were scheduled today." I say.

"I'm wasn't but I decided to take Mary's shift. Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Yes." I smile.

"So, you still hanging in there? Not dead yet?"

Without realizing it, my smile slowly fades into a frown. "Not yet." I answer.

"Your sister called while you were asleep." Lucille tells me as she begins to take my blood. "She left a message, said she can't come and see you today but all of them love and miss you."

I just stare at the wall as Lucille talks and takes my blood. I'm surprised I haven't died from blood loss yet. And, about Fiona, I'm not mad that she hasn't visited in a week. Maybe I'm a little mad, but you know who'll be madder in 3 days? She will. ...

Okay, I'm not blaming her for not visiting. She's running the entire house and she has been since before she even hit puberty. I just hate being in the hospital. I miss waking up to Carl and Debbie fighting or Lip yelling at me for wearing his 'good' underwear. I miss all of them. I just want to go home.

"Ian, did you hear me?" Lucille asks.

"No. I wasn't listening."

"You remember Mikhailo? Or, Mickey, as he likes to be called. He left a little something for you. Told me to give it to you when you woke up."

This catches my attention. I suddenly don't feel tired and sick and dead anymore. "Really? What is it?"

Lucille smiles and pulls something out her pocket. It's a tiny orange teddy bear with a note attached. Mickey gave this to me? The notorious badass, Mickey Milkovich gave me a teddy bear? I think. I ignore my suspicions and grab the bear anyways. I read the note out loud.

"I didn't bring anything with me to the hospital but I wanted to give you something so I went to the gift shop. It's Firecrotch Jr. Text me before you die, gallagher."

"That's sweet, isn't it?" Lucille asks with a cheesy grin. A huge part of me thinks that she's the one that gave me this gift instead of Mickey. I mean, can you blame me for thinking this? I guess he might have some soft side I don't know about but it's easier to believe that Lucille is just lying.

Even though I don't believe Mickey actually gave me this, I smile anyways. It's a genuine smile, too. I don't smile a lot lately, because what's there to smile about when you're dying? But, for some reason I feel like I'll be alive at least another week.

"Will he be back?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, Ian. I don't know."

My genuine smile turns into a half genuine half smile. "Okay. Thank you.." I say.

"You'll be okay, Ian. You're really strong, you know?" Lucille says.

I'm not sure if she's saying this because I'm dying or because I probably won't get to see Mickey again before I die. Whatever the reason is, those words hit me like a bullet. They hurt.

"I'm dying." I say in a soft, quiet voice. "I don't know if I'm... ready." Tears burn at my eyes and my heart suddenly aches more than it ever has before.

"You're not--" Lucille starts but stops herself because she can't bear lying to a sick child. "I'm going to call Mickey. Do you want me to call him?"

I slowly shake my head and wipe my eyes. "No. I'm tired."

Lucille nods and just leaves without asking again. I close my eyes and force away my sadness and bad thoughts. I think that I deserve to be happy for the last 5 days of my life, at least, but life seems to have other plans. I keep thinking about what I said - "I'm not ready." - And, I know before I said that it was my time, but I lied. Get used to it, I lie a lot.

I lay in silence for maybe an hour before the door opens again. I think it's time for more pointless tests, but then I hear a voice that, to me, is the voice of everything good.

"Thought you might have died by now." The voice says. "I guess you're stronger than I thought. You always have been."

I turn my head to see Mickey standing by my bed. I can't help but smile and laugh and cry. "What are you doing here? Terry beat the shit out of you again?"

Mickey scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Got room for one more on that bed? I would take the other one---"

Before he finishes his sentence, I say. "No! I have space." and scoot over.

Mickey smiles, not your ordinary smile, but a smile that makes someone feel alive. By someone, I mean me. It's like life has taken my hand and helped me stand back up. He lays down beside me and looks up at the hospital ceiling.

"You look really different. I remember when you were this tiny, scrawny, little ginger that did everything everyone asked." He talks. "You always did everything. I pitied you, sometimes, because I knew if you were given a chance, you would show everyone that you weren't just some "scared" little kid."

"Is that why you tormented me?"

"Maybe. Did it work?"

"No, I'm still scared. I just got better at hiding it."

Mickey is silent and then turns to look at me. I never payed much attention to this before, but his eyes are really blue. They're a beautiful, bright blue which is the exact opposite of Mickey. It's almost like he shouldn't have those eyes. Like, he doesn't deserve them. But, they're his and they're beautiful.

"Will you forgive me if I say I'm sorry?" He asks. "For everything."

"Are you just apologizing because I'm dying?"

"A little. But, I really am sorry."

I smile slightly. "I forgive you. A little."

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