Her hand has begun to shake and her eye lids become heavy as she still strokes my hair. She smiles. Then her hand drops. A waterfall of tears comes rushing down my cheeks as the loud and constant beep takes place. The doctor walks in. He takes the blanket that lay on top of her and pulls it all the way up over her head and covers her completely. I touch her hand one last time and leave. The red bow shimmers in the hospital lights. I have the last thing she will ever give me in my hands. I have her love.
As I walk to the hospital lounge, where I left all my stuff, I feel the urge to open it. But I don't. Not yet. Not now.
I reach the lounge where my stuff is sitting. I fall into the seat next to it with my hands on my head in distress. I pant rapidly. I look at my possessions. My sweatshirt is neatly folded in my backpack, probably by the cancer girl. On my sweatshirt there is a hard-covered book that's initials read AIA. A post it note sticks to it which says "Pain Demands to Be Felt. From H.G.L". I put the novel in my bag and walk off.
YOU ARE READING
At Your Bedside
Ficção Geral(DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE FAULT IN OUR STARS! MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS!) • I did not create the characters Hazel Grace Lancaster, Isaac, or Augustus Waters, neither made up the book An Imperial Affliction (found in the novel The Fault In Our...
