Time To Go

Twenty-Three: Kennedy

I push myself up from the bed without a moment's hesitation. John doesn't even bother trying to stop me from moving away from him. Perhaps he's used to me leaving him more often than we would both care to admit.

I sigh, lifting a hand and rubbing it through my dark hair. My fingers run across bumps and scratches beneath the follicles of hair, left as a vicious reminder of my love for John.

"Dad took it good, huh?" He whispers, a snort falling from his lips almost shamefully as I turn to face him, sitting up weakly against his pushed up pillows.

I nod, red crawling up my cheeks as I feel my face blush somewhat. "He's the only one."

"Yeah, seems it."

"Can I ask you something, John?" I ask quietly, sitting on the edge of his bed as my eyes fixate on the laminate flooring of his room. For a few moments, all I can hear is the unwanted sounds of beeps and passing patients and rushing doctors from the corridor, as I wait for him to answer.

He merely hums for me to continue and after a few moments, I do.

My eyes rolling around to meet him, and his gaze scares me into a stand still. Two piercing hazel eyes watching me like a lion watches its prey. "Who's going to love me when you're gone?" I whisper, my throat burning bitterly as I swallow the lump in my throat, my saliva suffocating me painfully.

His eyes flicker for a few moments before he stares at me blankly, his eyes shimmering freshly.

"Another." He says simply.

I shake my head, a snort falling from my lips as my eyes fall back to the popular spot on the floor.

"It's not enough, John. Another will never be you." I say, shaking my head, rage consuming my calm exterior as I slam my fists into his bed. He doesn't even flinch, and I stand to pace up and down, my legs itching with anticipation as I rub my sleek palms down the front of my body irritably.

"Another will have to be me, won't they?" He spits, somewhat into his whisper.

I pause in my steps, my eyes falling all over him. He is a shadow of his former self, even to me, who only met him halfway through this stupid illness of his. I stare at him for a long period of time and have to hold myself back from rushing over to him and shaking the very disease from his weary, limp body. I wish I could run over to him and slap him around the face, screaming; leave my John alone!

I shake my head from my trance as fresh tears prickle at my puffing eyelids.

"You say that like you wish to forget me." I whisper sadly.

John does nothing but stare at me threateningly.

"Maybe I do." He begins.

I shake my head, gripping my temples as my heart twangs bitterly inside of my aching rib cage. "Bullshit, John!" I shout, annoyance surfacing from nowhere as I watch him, my breathing raspy as John blinks as though unfazed.