Leave A Message || Gallavich

Day five: The end of the end

You made it? It's day five already and you're still here. Thank you. Unfortunately, by the end of this, you may wish you stopped reading on Day one. This is going to hurt like a bitch.

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"Do you wants eggs?"

I shake my head. "They're cardboard."

"Um.. Waffles?"

I shake my head again. "Also cardboard."

Mickey sighs and sets down my breakfast tray which is filled with a variety of different foods. Every Sunday, the patients at the hospital get what is called "Sunday Breakfast" It's no different than regular breakfast except it's extra gross.

"Fruit?" He asks.

"Strawberries?"

"A lot of them."

I smile and grab a strawberry from the bowl. The only thing I would say is completely edible here is the fruit. I survive off of it.

Mickey watches me as I eat. I want to know what he's thinking about with every bone in my body. I wonder if he feels the same way I do. Does he like me too? He has to, right? Why else would he still be here?

"Ian.." He says. It sounds weird to hear him say my name. My actual name.

"Yes?.." I ask.

I try to read his expression. I've realized that he tells all his emotion through his eyes. Even when they're dull and sad they're still beautiful. I wait for him to say something but he's silent for a long time. I reach across my bed and grab his hand.

"Does anyone know?" He asks.

"No. I don't want them to know.. It'll hurt them too much." I answer.

"What about me?"

I'm surprised by his question. I hadn't thought about how my death would affect him. I mean, the only reason I told him was because I knew he wouldn't care... Does he care?

His lip quivers a little before he says anything else. "I don't know, man... Fuck."

"I didn't think you'd care." I say.

I think that I see a singular tear fall from his eye but I'm not sure. He just sits there and stares down at the floor. It isn't until I hear him that I know he's crying for real. "Mickey?" I call.

"I don't know why." He says through his cries.

I don't know what he means by this and I don't care. I wrap my arms around him and lay my face in his hair. "I'm sorry." I say. He nods and wraps his arms around me, still crying. I didn't think that I'd be comforting anyone one the day I die, Surely, not Mickey Milkovich. But, here I am.

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A bunch of pointless and painful tests later, Mickey was still by my side. He really didn't leave again, even when I could tell he was hurting, he stayed. I couldn't help but question this. Why hasn't he left? I'll be dead today and he'll forget about me tomorrow. I'm a nobody, so why is he still here?

My entire life I've been a nobody. Even when I got sick I still barely existed. No one looked at me more than once or gave anything I did a second thought. I guess this is why I wasn't afraid to die at first. There's nothing to be afraid of when nothing you do matters.

But.. things seem different now. Almost as if my actions are not only hurting me, but other people as well.

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I lay in bed and stare at the wall in front of me. I don't think I've moved in an hour. Death is slowly consuming me. It's painful.

"Hey, Ian." Lucille walks into my room. She isn't assigned to work today so I'm not sure why she's here.

I don't respond or even look away from the wall.

"Are you okay? Still hanging in there, right? Aren't dead yet?" She asks.

"No." I answer. "I'm not dead, yet."

She walks over to my bed and sits beside me. "Where's Mickey?"

"He went to the cafeteria."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Are you--" She begins to ask another relentless question but I cut her off.

"I'm tired." I say, my eyes barely staying open. I really mean it this time. I'm really tired, exhausted. I want to sleep forever.

Lucille stares at me with pity. She's always been so nice to me. As my eyes slowly close, I regret not telling her that I'll be dead soon. I regret everything I've ever done. I try and keep them open, but they're heavy. It hurts, everything hurts and I can't help but cry a little. I don't want to die today as much as I did yesterday. I don't know what changed, but something did.

"Ian, are you okay?" Lucille asks.

"It hurts." I tell her. "It hurts a lot."

"What hurts, Ian?"

"My heart. Why does it hurt?" I ask.

That's when the beeping starts. I don't know what machine it's coming from but it's loud and rings in my ears. "Stop!" I cry. "Make it stop!"

"Ian! Calm down!"

I hear her but I don't listen. My eyes are still heavy, my heart still aches and the ringing won't stop. I have to get out of here.

"I want to go outside!" I shout. I would get up, but my body is stuck where it is. It's starting to hurt to breathe.

"No! Fiona! Mickey!" Tears begin to drown me, the beeping gets louder and the walls are caving in. "Make it stop! Make it stop!"

"Ian!" Someone yells, it's not Lucille.

"Mickey?" My voice gets quieter.

"I need you to breathe slowly, okay? You're almost there."

"I don't want to die today... I just need one more day."

"It's over, Ian. You're okay. Just close your eyes."

"But..." I try to make up an excuse, a reason to stay awake, but I can't. I knew this was coming and I can't avoid it. I close my eyes and let out a stifled breath.

The beeping stops and so does everything else.

"What happened?"

"I don't know.. He just... He started crying and... And..."

"It's okay, Lucille. You helped him enough. We need to call his family. And, find that boy that stayed here with him. He deserves to know."

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