***
would you miss me for who i was or would you miss me because you should?
would the emptiness be forced, or would it really hurt?
would you try to remember all the happy times, or just force them all away?
would you also try to leave this earth, or would you just stop and stay?
***
'You know, I don't think death's all that bad. I don't think it's that scary honestly." The girl nodded at the guy in front of her. She fiddled with her pencil, refusing to meet him in the eyes. She's always hated drawing, and writing, or anything that required a pen and paper. But it's not like they cared anyway.
"You're a liar", he said bluntly.
She frowned at that. He didn't even know her. She doesn't know him. He can't just state things like that.
It's rude.
"How would you know? How would you know what I think is true?" She placed the pencil down gently, holding back a surge of anger. She looked up and was relieved to find that the boy wasn't looking at her, but at his paper.
"Because you mentioned it" He sighed, tired of the long day. Tired of everyone really, especially the girl.
"What do you mean because I mentioned it?" She furrowed her eyebrows, almost wishing he'd look at her. She could show him that he didn't know her. She would show him her confidence. She could do that, but only if he looked at her.
Because she can't do it with words.
"You mentioned how you're not afraid of death. If you're not afraid, why mention it?" He shrugged, the bags under his eyes seemed to pull down on his eyelids, begging for them to close.
"Because I can"
He exhaled slowly.
"Because you can?"
She nodded sharply, almost smiling in triumph but then grasped onto the table. She sucked in a quick breath and tried to get the world to stop spinning. It was spinning too fast, much too fast compared to her usual dizzy spells.
"Are you ok?" He asked, his voice void of any genuine concern.
She grumbled a quick confirmation and he relaxed. He didn't want to deal with that. To his relief, she stayed quiet, after a couple minutes at least.
"I can talk about it, so that means it doesn't bother me", she countered.
"I guess. Whatever. Good for you". He dragged a weary hand over his eyes, trying his best to stay awake for the girl who cared too much. For the girl who was too afraid of everything. For the girl who pretended yet she was slowly lying.
She widened her eyes at his agreement and narrowed her eyes in a confused gaze. And she waited for the next conversation, but it never came. It just abandoned them without a simple 'goodbye' or 'see you next time'. It just left.
Kind of like the people around her.
"Well", she initiated, "If you could do one thing before you die, what would it be? Anything ok, it doesn't even have to be realistic"
He let out a groan, whether one of pain or one of contempt, it was hard to decipher.
"I would go to Lake Heoron"
She sighed.
"Why would you go to that Lake? It's not even a mile wide, and nobody goes there anymore"
The boy knew she was going to counter him once more, and almost pulled a smile out of his pocket, but realized it was too heavy and just stared at the blank paper in front of him.
"Because I can"
She almost screamed. It's been two hours since the nurses checked on them and he's done nothing but look at the paper and give mysterious answers and absolutely no questions. It's just been her, talking to herself, and the shell of a boy who once knew how to live.
"But you can't"
And almost immediately she wished she never said that. The boy finally had the courage to lift his head off of his drooping posture to look at her, and she wished that she never saw his eyes. His eyes which were the deeepest shade of regret, his eyes which radiated with bitter maladies, his eyes which seemed to beg her, beg her for what she didn't know, but she felt sorry for what she said.
"I'm so-", she started to say, but he shook his head.
"I know"
And she almost cried because he knew. He knew more that his inability to roam outside. He knew more than the fact that he couldln't go to a dingy little lake. He knew what she was going through, he knew what was going to happen, and she knew what he was going through as well. Everything was so dark. Just so, so dark.
"I am a liar", she admitted.
The boy finally quirked an odd lift of his lips.
"Aren't we all?"
She choked on a dry sob, she choked it with her forced laughter, and she choked it with her smile.
"I guess so"
"It's ok"
She grabbed the pencil off the table and slowly drew circles. Tiny circles that covered on corner of the page.
" I don't want to" She whispered.
"It's ok" He said back. But this time, instead of being monotonous, his voice quavered a bit. It wouldn't have been noticeable, yet the fact that the room was empty besides them two, his fear echoed and bounced off the walls.
She gulped, realizing that they were both afraid. Afraid of life's consequences, and afraid of life's decisions.
"I was going to be a school teacher. I like seeing little kids learning new things, as cheesy as that sounds" She concentrated on the circles, trying her hardest to contain the stinging behind her eyes, trying her hardest not to stain her paper with any tears.
The boy nodded.
"I like photography. I was gonna visit South America or something like that. My dad went to South America"
"That sounds expensive", she said. All he did was quirk another tired smile.
"My treatment's expensive", he mumbled. She looked up from her task wide eyed, then slowly looked down.
That shut her up.
They were both silent for a while, finding their quiet segments the most bearable.
The door finally opened, revealing a middle aged woman with a silver tray in her hand, and a wheelchair in the other.
"Let's go Isabelle! Time for your nap!"
The girl wrinkled her nose at the thought of a childish nap and dropped her pencil weakly. The woman approached her quickly, as if her speed would please Isabelle. The girl, pushed the paper away and lifted herself up slowly, making sure that she didn't fall over.
"Let me help you dear"
The woman lifted her a bit, and helped her get into the wheelchair.
The girl looked at the boy one last time, and her eyes met his.
And deep inside, each one of them knew that this was going to be their last interaction. Their first and last. Isabelle held onto his eyes as if to say 'goodbye', but looked away after a while. He held on, and he looked at her after the nurse turned her around, and he looked at her after the door was shut, and then
he closed his eyes.
"Nice meeting you Isabelle", he whispered, tired of it all.
And he closed his eyes into a long slumber.
