Perfect Suicide

Ch. 11(.5) - ZHOLLO'S POV

Zhollo Kraftens POV

"Breathe! Fucking breathe, Zhollo!" I heard a distant voice saying.

I attempted to tell them that I was breathing, obviously, but when I tried to open my mouth, I found out it took more energy than I had thought.

I'm tired...

"Fuck, we're losing him!"

Be quiet; I said I was tired.

"Zhollo!"

I just wanted to sleep, so that's what I did.

- - - - - -

Growing up, I had always been pretty popular. It was easy for me to talk to people and make friends. To be honest, making friends was second nature to me.

My mom used to joke around and say my superpower was being able to make friends with anyone at any time, and she was right. You could see it in the way I lived my life.

I didn't have any enemies.

I had never wronged anyone.

I had a simple yet amazing life, and I was grateful for it all. Great friends, supportive parents, a chance at a basketball scholarship-hell, even my younger brother Azeil was pretty awesome.

There hasn't been one thing I haven't done right. I've put my heart into every single thing I've ever done, and I've tried to treat anyone I've ever encountered with the same decency and respect that I crave.

So, I didn't understand what was happening.

I didn't understand what this doctor was saying to me.

".. a tumor on your heart.." Dr. Jetting's voice sounded so far away, even though he was looking right at me. ".. surgical treatment not available.."

My mother stifled a sob, causing me to look over at her and my father. I had forgotten they were here, that we were even in a hospital.

They both look tired and old.

Have they always looked this old?

My mother gripped my father's hands in hers. She looked like she had been bracing herself for the worst news she could ever receive and had just gotten it.

My father looked as strong and as sturdy as ever, but I could see his mask starting to slip. There was real concern oozing from him, and based on his body language, I could tell he was uncomfortable with what he was hearing. He looked as though he needed to move, needed to do something.

One thing about Jyell Kraftens: he was a man of action.

"Do you understand Zhollo?" Hearing my name made me focus.

"Huh?" I said, looking back at Dr. Jetting.

She cleared her throat as my mother started to cry in the background. I wanted to tell her it was okay, that everything would be fine, but I couldn't muster up the strength to lie. Somehow, I knew her tears were falling for a good reason.

"Zhollo, I'm sorry to say this." Even my doctor looked like she was about to cry. "But you're dying. You only have seven months, at most, to live."

By now, both my mother and father were crying.