Elizabeta's Journal

-Entry 141-

Dear journal,

    No, this isn't Eliza. She's not waking up, despite everything. She's smiling I think. I just feel it. The tips of her fingers are fading, like mine. Her feet are becoming transparent, like mine.

     I don't know how long it will take until I fade completely. Who would've known such a silly little thing would kill me? I think my biggest regret was making so many of you cry by announcing what was happening.

     Julia and Darryl arrived at the hospital not too long ago. Darryl looks like he's been crying, but he seems happy, unlike Julia. That poor girl isn't emotionally stable enough to handle the stress of this. She's bawling her eyes out on Darryl's shoulder, and he's letting her.

     What scares me the most right now is that I won't be able to bid everyone farewell in time. I'm in such a rush to do that. But why am I writing about myself in Eliza's journal?

     She looks so peaceful. Like her fading is just another thing that's happening on her busy schedule. I think she's right here with us. I can feel it. I know it. I have never felt so. . . Attached to her before. In this way, at least.

     I realized I was her Nyo, but I can feel her pain. She's hurting, I know it. I just wish I could comfort her. It took long enough to get the doctors to take us into surgery with her. They finished a while ago, now they're just allowing us a moment of silence.

     It's so quiet. There's not much to smile about, yet I can't. So many of my friends have been there for me throughout it all, and I'm so grateful. I don't know why I'm happy as I watch my sister's heart monitor slow down. She hasn't flatlined yet. She's still alive for now. So are we.

     I'm so sorry. I could've done so much better. I could've been there for her. I should've been with her in that car, technically. But I forgot to do something important so I stayed home instead.

     Right now, I would give anything to have that choice again. The choice between paperwork, and more time with my sister. I know what I would've picked. Over and over again.

      I should go. I. . . Can't keep writing. It's making me sad again.

-Nyo!Hungary
-Hungary