The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to close in on Aurora, amplifying the silence that echoed in her heart. Her reflection in the window, a pale and fragile ghost of her usual vibrant self, stared back at her.
She reached for her phone, the familiar weight of it a comfort in the face of her impending doom. Her fingers hovered over the screen, hesitant, before finally tapping out a message to her friends in their group chat:
"Hey guys, I have something important to tell you..."
The silence that followed was deafening. Usually, their group chat buzzed with laughter, inside jokes, and updates on their lives. But today, the only sound was the quiet hum of the hospital machines keeping her alive.
Aurora’s heart sank. Even in her final moments, her friends were too busy with their lives, too caught up in their own worlds, to offer her the comfort she desperately craved.
She scrolled through their recent messages, her eyes stinging with tears. They were always busy, always planning outings, always laughing about inside jokes she no longer understood. She was the middle child, the one who faded into the background, the one who was never quite enough.
Her gaze fell on a photo of them, taken on a beach trip a year ago. They were all laughing, their faces alight with joy, their arms wrapped around each other. It was a memory that now felt like a cruel taunt, a reminder of a life that would soon be lost.
YOU ARE READING
My Family hates me and I only have five days to live
Short StoryDescription (Focusing on Loss and Regret): Aurora knows her time is running out. Diagnosed with a terminal illness, she faces the harsh reality of her final days. But the pain of her impending death is overshadowed by the chilling truth: her family...
