Beyond The Final Whistle

𝟰𝟲: 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

The room was bathed in the warm orange glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows that stretched across the floor like soft whispers of the day saying goodbye. Alex sat beside Simi near the window, her frail body resting against his, her head nestled on his shoulder. The rhythmic hum of the machines faded into the background as they watched the horizon turn red, the world outside continuing its slow, indifferent pace while theirs seemed to hang in suspension.

"I wish I could bottle sunsets like this," Simi murmured, her voice soft, like a breeze barely stirring the air. "Keep them in a jar and open them up on dark days."

Alex smiled, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "You always had a thing for sunsets," he said. "It's what drew you to the football field in the first place, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," she replied, her eyes half-closed, the exhaustion always lingering now. "You can't really see them when you're indoorsy ... too many things—feelings in the way. But out on the field... it feels like the world opens up."

Alex's heart clenched as he thought about how small her world had become now—reduced to hospital rooms and beeping monitors. He wondered if she'd ever see another sunset from the field again. And then, like a soft nudge from reality, the thought of football reminded him of something else.

"Hey," he said, hesitating for a moment, unsure if he should bring it up. "The girls... they have their semifinals tomorrow. Against Abuja University."

Simi's eyes flickered open, her interest piqued. "The Tigresses?" she asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Our arch rivals?"

Alex nodded, feeling the warmth of her body against his, too light, too fragile. "Yeah... It's the big match. Everyone's been talking about it. Rianna's been training the team hard, making sure they're ready."

For a moment, Simi was quiet, her mind drifting, lost in the memory of a time when football was the center of her universe, when she'd run on the field with the same determination and fire as Rianna and the others. But now, her fire was dwindling, like a candle burning low.

"I want to go," she said suddenly, her voice a little stronger.

Alex blinked, caught off guard. "Go? To the game?"

"Yeah." Simi shifted against him, lifting her head from his shoulder to look him in the eyes. "I want to be there. I need to see them play. I need to feel it again—the excitement, the energy. I want to be part of it."

"Simi..." Alex began, his heart sinking. "I don't know if that's a good idea. You're not exactly... in shape to—"

"I don't care," she interrupted, her eyes flashing with a stubbornness he hadn't seen in weeks. "I'm not asking for much, Alex. Just one match. One last time to feel like I'm still part of the world outside these walls."

Alex sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You know it's not that simple. I'd have to talk to the doctors. Your parents. Everyone. It's risky."

Her eyes softened, pleading. "Please, Alex. I'm running out of time. You know that as much as I do. I don't want my last memory of Brightwood to be the ceiling of this hospital room. I want to see them, on the field, under the sky. I want to hear the whistle blow and feel like, just for a moment, I'm still me."

Alex's resolve crumbled. He knew she was right. He knew they were running on borrowed time now, and each day was a gift they didn't deserve. But the thought of her out there—so weak, so fragile—it terrified him. Still, her eyes, those eyes that once burned with life, were asking him for one thing, the last thing she might ever ask of him.

He sighed again, leaning his head back against the wall. "Alright," he said, though the word felt heavy in his mouth. "Alright, I'll talk to the doctors. And your parents. But no promises."