Counting the Bad Boys Moves

Chapter 28

I kissed his closed eyes as he lied in the hospital bed. The pale blue gown didn’t enhance his frown, but it didn’t alter his beauty. His cheeks had slight color to them but all in all he was getting more pale.

 I bit my lip while a never-ending trail of tears drifted down my cheeks. I never wanted to see him like this; not Bobby. I failed to keep in the sob that I had been deperately trying to supress.

“I love you so much Bobby.” I whispered. Of course my voice wasn’t it’s usual tone. I was too drained from lack of sleep and could barely function. Everyday he was getting worse. I could barely stand to see him in this state. There was no way I was going to last when he was gone. I rolled my eyes for being pessimistic. I had to believe that everything would be okay even if it was only an illusion.

“Iris.” Bobby spoke. His voice was so weak I had to shut my eyes to hear it. I opened my eyes slowly and found him weakly smiling, but doing the best to his ability. I shook my head slightly while my hand slapped onto my mouth to muffle the heavy sob that crawled up my throat. Why can’t I just be strong for once? Why am I so selfish?

“I shouldn’t be like this Bobby.” I tried to get out in a normal voice, but it came out like broken glass. He patted the spot next to him. I slowly walked over. He sighed and let his eyes drop to his stomach. He licked his chapped lips and said,

“I know you shouldn’t have to endure this much pain, Iris. I really wish you would’ve stayed home for your sake.”

I immediately shook my head. This is not a time to be selfless. He’s always so selfless; a natural quality only he can possess with such modesty. He never gets crediabilty for his nature of letting others be happy. He deserved more than me. He dserved a girl who could be strong in his time of need. He shouldn’t be the one comforting me or leaving me speechless.

I lightly carressed his cheek; too afraid that’d I break him. He didn’t seem to like it very much though. He scrunched his eyebrows together with a hard glare directed at me. His voice came out louder, so much louder that it had to of took most of his energy,

”I’m not dead yet.”

Wait a minute, and stop.

I’m not dead yet.

A powerful impact with a simple line of spoken truth. It was brutal honesty; something I was in need of to wake me up and be happy. Facts are he’s not dead yet and he’s still alive, here, with me. I needed this moment. I needed to him say that!