Not Meant To Be

hope

That night it's not too difficult to fall asleep, though you're a little lonely in your hospital bed, you drift off quickly. You dream of a large door; it's made out of birch wood. You reach out towards it, pressing your hands against it, the door is heavy, you look up and suddenly the door is a lot taller than it was before. You keep pushing, you can feel the muscles in your arm flex, your teeth grind together as you struggle against the weight of the door. You press your forehead against the door, feeling the rough surface against your skin, you lean your whole body against the door. For some reason you have this feeling of needing this door to open. It has to open!

"Please." you say desperately. And the door starts to creak open but only enough for you to look through a crack, when you do; you see a world filled of color. Grass that changes colors as it sways in the wind, trees that grow in wild twists and turns. You try to push the door open wider when, it slams shut. You jump backwards in shock. You bang on the door yelling for it to open again, to let you into that beautiful wonderland.

Immortals and mortals cannot be together."

A voice from behind you calls out, it's not one you recognize. You turn around quickly to try to find the owner of that voice but all you see is darkness.

"You're wrong." you argue, "who are you?" as you call out to the darkness, you start to float off of the ground. You go up higher and higher and higher. You can't see the ground beneath you anymore, the door is long gone. Once you realize how far up you are, you begin to fall, faster and faster.

You gasp for air as your eyes open, your breathing heavy, your hands are clammy, you're freezing. You check the clock on the wall across from your bed, six a.m. You look over at the yellow flowers still next to you but, they look wilted. You sit up, you touch the petals of the flower closes to you, the one you smelled last night. It falls apart in your hand. You lay back down and pull the blankets up around you, turning on your side when you notice your IV has been removed and a small bandage is covering the place the needle was injected. You pull your legs up to your stomach. You lay there consumed in your thoughts about your dream for a while before there's a knock at the door.

"Come in..." you say softly, your voice a little raspy, your throat dry. You sit up in your bed and a nurse walks in with a tray of food, you glance back up at the clock, eight a.m. two hours already? You gladly take the food and eat as much as you can, you feel as if you haven't eaten in days! As the nurse comes back for your tray later on, Diavolo comes in for a visit, he sits down in the chair next to your bed.

"I know I came across as very rude and harsh yesterday but it had to be done." he shakes his head, "I can't sugar coat things that shouldn't be sweetened." he sighs, "I'm sorry, this is a lot and you probably just woke up. I talked with the doctor looking over your health this morning. You're cleared to leave the hospital today but won't be able to do much physical activity for a few days as your body recovers." he hands you a pile of folded clothes that, you're assuming, he's managed to magically conjure up, "but I do have to tell you that once you are fully recovered, you are being sent home."

"What?" you say in shock, "I have a month left." clenching the clothes in your hands.

"With everything that has happened, you have to leave," he shakes his head, "it's for your own safety."

"What about...school?" you try to bring up an excuse that you may be able to convince him to let you stay.

"Don't worry about your grades, your current grades are fine and you will finish the year with those." he stands up, "Do you need me to call someone to help you change?" you shake your head, "Alright, I'll be outside when you're ready or if you change your mind." he begins to walk towards the door when you cut him off.