I gave you my heart {JeanxMarco}

Chapter 2: Marco

I sat cross-legged on the red carpet of my bedroom floor drawing a picture of a horse, absorbed in the details of it's head. The eyelashes weren't right. They were too long. Too feminine. He was a stallion, after all.

I glanced up as L fell off his chair, Light Yagami catching him just before he hit the ground. I almost yelled in outrage. I didn't want my favorite character to die. Before I finished watching the scene, I turned 'Death Note' off and started drawing again, furiously adding details to the stallion's mane.

I didn't notice Mom right away. She was in my doorway, gripping the doorknob.

"Isn't that show a little violent?" I heard her voice crack.

"Huh? Death Note? I guess it is, but I watch it for the intelligent entertainment.  The characters are really smart, you should watch it with me sometime." I looked up, shooting her a small smile.

When I saw her face, I instantly knew what it was before she even opened her mouth to say more. Something big was about to happen.

"The beeper went off." I said.

Mom nodded. "We have to leave right away. Your dad is going to meet us there."

She looked at me for a long moment. I nodded and forced myself not to cry. For weeks I'd imagined how I'd act and feel when my mother told me. Would I have jumped up and down in joy? Would I hug my mom and burst into tears of happiness? Three months of waiting. People die every day waiting for their new hearts. Now I was one of the lucky ones.

But in that instant I couldn't think of luck or happiness. I froze, trapped in that moment, scared to speak. I couldn't jump up and down with excitement. I could hardly do anything I'd imagined. Every morning I woke up tired and out of energy.

Mom finally sprang into action. She yanked my packed suitcase out of the bedroom corner with shaking hands, and set it on my bed.

"Drawing pencils? I know you love to draw."

I handed the pencils to her. "What if it doesn't fit? I whispered, not loud enough for her to hear me. My left hand covered my heart. Questions clouded my mind. What if my new heart doesn't feel right? What if the operation is unsuccessful, and we all got our hopes up for nothing?

I couldn't bear to see anymore deaths, I've always heard about some person dieing on the news.

But the fact remained that someone else had to die for me to live. Someone else had to grieve for me to be happy. And everynight at dinner, when Mom, Dad, and I prayed for a new heart, we were praying for someone to die.