Apologies to the willow tree

Prologue

This can't be happening. I looked across the blinding white room towards her, with a dumbstruck look on my face. She laid there, on a bed so still: breathing... But only with the help of the many machines she was now attached to. A hand came down on my shoulder and made me jump, jerking the first tears out of my eyes. I looked up to see the doctor's face, a struggled smile resting upon it. I looked down and wiped my tears away with the back of my sleeve, not wanting to have to look at the doctor's judgment-free face again. I shook the hand off my shoulder and turned towards her. Looking at her for a while I couldn't help but cry; I was a murderer. I had left this girl with only a predicted week left... I was a monster.

Looking down (unable to look at her pale form anymore) I spotted her diagnosis papers at the foot of her bed, I picked them up - scanning the paper for a little bit of information I desperately needed to know... Ahhhh. Found it. Her name... Willow... How pretty.

So the girl I've doomed to a short life was called Willow...

I couldn't bear to be in the room any longer. I left and sat on the floor in the corridor. I wasn't worthy of a chair. Tears streamed down my face. Why did this have to happen? I had always been a careful driver but somehow I had managed not to notice her. Her body collided with my car; it fell limp on the road. My immediate reaction was to call 999. An ambulance arrived and took us to the hospital. They don't usually let non-family members ride with the patient but I was persistent. The paramedics knew they would have to allow me if they wanted to get her to hospital in time.

Unfortunately, time is cruel. It was not in their favour, mine or even Willow's. Her injuries meant certain death and the worst part was that it wasn't immediate. I couldn't imagine anything worse than waiting for death unable to escape it's tight grasp. 'Seven days,' I thought. I made myself a promise. When she woke up, I would make this week the best she could ever hope for. It wasn't much but I hoped it would clear my soul slightly. I composed myself and re-entered Willow's hospital room. I sat myself back on the chair next to her bed.

When I awoke from a slumber I hadn't realised I had crept into, I didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to. I was consumed by a tingling sensation and calm...a hand was holding my own. Its warmth made me feel better and momentarily rid me of the worries and guilt that had been weighing me down. Only when I pulled out of relaxation, did I realise where I was and what was happening. I whipped my eyes open and flung my head down to look at the hand holding my own. I slowly let my eyes follow up the arm to the shoulders where I could see the person who had given me temporary tranquility. She was sat up and looking back at me.

My heart skipped a beat. Willow was sat up and she was looking at me. She was even smiling. Such a beautiful smile on now such a frail body.

By looking at her, you wouldn't have thought she had just been mauled by a car. Her smile looked too bright; her brown hair sat too perfectly in gentle curls and her deep blue eyes were filled with too much genuine kindness.

She adjusted herself to look at me better before beginning:

"Hi, I'm..."

"Willow.. I know" I cut her off (for no other reason but to let her know that I had at least bothered to learn her name and not just paid some money and pissed off.)

"If you don't mind me asking - even though I'm very glad you're with me. Just don't take this the wrong way! Who are you?" Her voice had so much kindness...

She woke up in hospital with a stranger and she was treating them with so much kindness. So much...

"...I'm the owner of the black ford mondeo" I muttered to myself before preparing to give her a real answer.

"Ohh, I was in the accident with you? Are you okay? Whats your name?" she replied. She must have heard my muttering.

"Yes. I am Max."

I wasn't prepared to answer the other question. I didn't deserve such kindness.

"Well hello Max. It's nice to meet you for real rather than seeing your face for a second whilst being attacked by your car," she chuckled.

How could she laugh at a time like this? Was she not aware that she was doomed?

"So Max... did the doctors tell you anything about my condition? Because I want to know when I can get the hell out of here."

I didn't reply. I couldn't. The words burnt my throat as they tried to get out. I couldn't let them out.

Willow picked up on my silence and its meaning. "That bad, huh?"

"You have a week left to live. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. I tried to be careful. I tried to be so careful," I broke down into tears.

"Hey. Stop that. I should be the one crying. I'm the one who's going to die."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I know."

"The doctor said there's not much that will make your injuries worse. Let's make the most out of the situation. Let me treat you to the best week of your life. They are releasing you tomorrow. Come with me. It'll be fun. It's the least I can do."

"You have a deal."