We were reckless.
How did we get from kissing to you pinning me to the wall to us both on the floor in a tangle of limbs?
We made an explosion that day, Park Jimin.
And now, we are suffering the consequences of it.
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I wearily fall back in the pillows and close the journal.
My handwriting sucks at the end of the book, I just hope and pray that Park Jimin will be able to read it.
"Marilyn?" I call weakly.
My vision is blurring a little, my head keeps fading.
I refuse to let go just yet.
"Hey, how's my favorite patient?" my personal nurse enters.
I try to hide the fact that my life slipping between my fingers.
"Th-this hoodie," my breath hitches in my throat. I refuse to let my voice die just yet though, no matter the burn in my throat. "And this... this journal. Please give it to Park Jimin when he comes."
"O-okay," Marilyn frowns a tiny bit but takes the hoodie and the journal. "Why don't you just give it to him yourself? When does he plan to come?"
I gave a sad smile. "In a year."
"What?" Marilyn's eyes widen.
"Please, Marilyn," I beg her, my breath fading.
My lungs struggle to inhale.
"Very well, honey. Oh, your mother and brother are here," Marilyn looks over her shoulder.
"Thank you," my voice is barely audible now.
I hear Marilyn telling my family members not to be too long since I was exhausted.
"Yes, Marilyn, I know," I hear my brother chuckle a tiny bit.
Then my mom and the doctor, my brother, come into my vision.
"Hey honey, how are you doing?" Mom grasps my limp hand.
"Hey miss," my brother winks.
But deep in his eyes, I know he sees that I'm struggling.
I give the most subtle shake of my head as a tear slides down my cheek.
Don't tell Mom.
My brother's professional face wavers, then tightens again and he gives a firm nod above our mom's head.
My vision is blurring again, along with my hearing.
My mom is going on about something about snow. That it's snowing right now.
"Shocking...so early in October! It's only...you ought to look...honey?"
My vision is darkening and the last things I see are my mom and brother's faces. "I love you," I say, but can they hear me?
