"Do you know what I fear most?" His voice broke, and the tears flowed freely down his cheeks. I lifted my hand, shakily to brush his long, curly brown locks from his forehead. I was still weak from the chemo but I managed a hoarse whisper. “What?”
He laughed. A quiet sound, void of joy. “You. I’m scared to wake up one day without you. To get dressed without you. To make breakfast without you. To lock the door to our apartment without you. To walk to school without you. To graduate without you. To go to college without you. To breath without you.” He turned away from me then, and I could see the ragged shaking of his shoulders as he pressed his face into the palms of his hands.
“I don’t want to live without you.”
YOU ARE READING
Empty Hearts and Cold Hands
Short Storya collection of short stories straight from the depths of within.
