The Book I Can't Come Up With A Name For

Daniel : Dying

"Well, I mean, I'm going to die," she's rambling. "But then again, I guess I am dying. Because the tumor is already in my brain which means that I'm already dying..."

"No," I whisper. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no...NO!

She can't be dying. She's fucking sixteen for gods sake. This isn't happening. I should never have gone in this stupid car. She's dying. She can't be dying.

"Daniel, please I'm trying here. You—"

I cut her off, "You can't be dying Em! You just can't, I wont let you! You have to do the surgery!" I grow very silent. "We have to do something..."

"Daniel stop." she says.

"I mean you have to do something, you can't just go and die." I go on, but even I know there's no point.

"Daniel please." she looks at me, like she's given up. She can't give up.

"I never should have slept with Abigail," I go on, I can't let her talk anymore. "It was stupid. Like really stupid. The most fucking stupid thing I have ever done. I'm sorry. Holy crap, I'm so so sorry. I'm—"

It probably means nothing to her now, she has so many other things to worry about, like her life. I'm the absolute worst person on the planet. The world's biggest douche.

(I remember when she asked me to write this for her. It was after I found out. She looked at me one day when we were watching a commercial for another unnecessary product until we can back to the real thing we want to watch. Its weird because no one likes commercials, they're only there so companies can plant ideas in our heads into our subconscious. They are only 30 seconds and then we remember them all day. Anyway, we we watching a commercial and she looks at me. It's awkward because she got pissed at me earlier and we sat in silence for a while until a funny part in the movie came up and she laughed. She hadn't laughed in a while so I had to remember to make the memory count. She turned to me and she was very serious. She needed to say something important, I could tell just from her expression. I know I'm a fucking dick because I'm positive if she didn't have a Germ Cell Tumor in her brain that was slowly killing her, I wouldn't even speak to her, I probably wouldn't even talk to her. I was never interested in her. It was always Abigail, but that's for later. But her expression told me that this was very serious. And that's when she asked me to help write her story. To write out everything from A to Z and she would edit it down and we could later revise and add things together. I could tell it meant something that I do this. And it also felt like a dying wish. It was just another reminder to me that this random girl I met is fucking dying and I can do nothing to stop it. But if you must know, that's why I'm helping write this book.)

We sat in silence for a while. Neither of us really know what to say. At least, I sure as fuck didn't. So I just asked if she wanted to be driven home, and she nodded. And that's exactly what I did.

I only thought I would talk to her occasionally, check in on her. I mean we were close when she told me, and Em didn't have many friends but I honestly wasn't interested in a dying girl. So I simply, drove her home, said goodnight and thought that would be it. But as I went down the empty streets, blocks and blocks of dark houses, there was only one thought in my head that stuck.

"This girl, this girl I barely know. Em. Em is dying. She dying."