Your Sweet Love

Chapter 42: The End.

A/N
There will be a lot of time skips now. It'll be like daily reports almost.

Willy's POV

"She's what?" I ask. "Jericho L/N, correct?" "No, I'm Y/N L/N." "Oh, wrong L/N. You're fine. Just a lot of broken bones. I predict about three more months here, then you can go home." The Doctor smiles at us, but that's terrible! "Anyways, Mr. Wonka can you please go back to your room? It's dinner time." I nod and walk to my room. "I love you Y/N." I say, walking out of her room. I hear her muffle something out, but couldn't make the words out.

...time skip to the morning...

Y/N wrote a note to me, asking me to do this or that at her funeral. God, she needs to get better so she knows she's not going to die.

...day two...

I saw Y/N today. Her bandages on her face were taken off to put new ones on, and her face almost looked completely like a skull. Her eyes were sunken in, her skin was paler than usual, and she looked sad.

I need her to get better...

...day three...

Y/N had heart problems today, it stopped then started twice while I was in there. The doctors don't know why that keeps happening...

...day four...

Today they're removing a few of my stitches so I can't stay in Y/N's room. I can't be in there, for her, all day. I just hope nothing happens.

I saw her, after they removed the stitches and I had scars all over my face. She and I listened to some music while we were together, but....

Her heart went out again.

I hit the nurse button. They couldn't do anything.

5:34 PM: time of death, heart failure. I couldn't do anything.

My lover died.
My heart felt dead.
I felt dead.
And I never want to see a single thing that reminds me of her.
I don't want to listen to her music ever again.
I don't want to read a book that she liked.
I don't want anything

Except her.
I only want her.

...day five...

I'm still in this hospital. This stupid, fucking hospital. I haven't eaten since she died. I haven't done anything since she died. Clara stopped by. I told her to go away. She didn't. She told me she needed me to help her plan the funeral.

...day six...

They, the doctors, told me about Y/N's body at the morgue. She has written on her arm 'So long and goodnight, Willy.' She knew that her heart was going to give out, she accepted it, and she left me to suffer. Love is no good.

...day seven...

Today a kid got a hold of the speaker system. They played Girls/Girls/Boys by Panic! At The Disco. I no longer like that song.

...day eight...

I got all of my stitches removed today, I'm free to go. That I did. I ran from that hospital. The world was sick as I stepped out into it for the first time. Everything is dull. Everything is meaningless. Everything smells of death and bleach, like the hospital.