she lay there, helpless, drowning in the bed's sheets. tubes and wires surrounded her, the steady beeps of the heart monitor were the only thing to be heard. he stood, towering over her bed, watching her. tears slipped down his face, the salty drops falling on his pale cheeks. he took her fragile hand in his, trying to console himself, failing to do so.
it was his fault. she was dying because of him. he should never have called her, bothered her, laid eyes on her. if he hadn't of done that, she would be alive, happy and her cheery self. but he had to do that; his feelings for her were too strong.
the girl he fell in love with was slowly slipping away.
