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THE GREATEST loss in life is not death. The world will go on whether you're here or not. Sure to some, your death will be a loss, it will be a time of mourning, but it will not be the greatest loss. It's kind of funny in a way, everything you do, say, and think matters but at the same time it's completely insignificant. The world does not need us yet we are here. The world would be better off without the human race, yet it keeps us close. It allows us to live and it allows us to remain living. And that, that counts for something. That is why death is not the greatest loss in life. The world keeps you for as long as it can but death is inevitable, it is apart of life. But internal death is not inevitable, it is not something the world planned for us to face, yet it is something we will all struggle with in life. It is something forced upon us as we grow old, as we see the people for who they truly are. You see, the greatest loss in life is what dies inside of us while we live.
Lonnie's been dead for some time now, it was only a matter of time before her lungs stopped going through the motions of breathing in and out. It was something Peter realized fairly quickly as his eyes landed upon her sleeping form. She lay on one of the dark orange seats of the jet. Her skin was pale, very pale. Peter had taken a notice of the faint purple rim that had formed just below her eyes and the way some of the dried blood remained across her cheek. She was no longer happy and energetic like she once masked herself to be. She was dead. Metaphorically that is.
"God I can't even look at her." Peter mumbled as he turned his head from her to look out the window of the jet, pinching the top of his nose as he did.
He had nearly thrown up one her walked into the jet to see her laying in the same chair she sat in now. It was a miracle Lonnie was still breathing when Happy had found her, a miracle that Happy would be forever grateful for. Happy had done his best to clean the blood from her but there was just so much of it that not even he could keep up. Peter couldn't handle the sight of her blood soaked clothing and after five minutes of trying and trying to avoid looking at it, he had ended up placing his t shirt over her own to cover it. Peter wasn't usually one to get squeamish around blood but there was just so much of it and he couldn't stop but feel it was his fault.
Peter winced as the needle Happy was using to stitch up his shoulder pinched his skin. "Ouch."
"I thought you had super strength?" Happy asked but it was more of a toughen up meaning behind it.
"It still hurts." Peter argued before wincing once more as Happy poked him again. "Happy, come on."
"All right, relax." Happy said as he continued on with the stitching. "Just a few more. There we..."
"Oh my god, Happy!" Peter yelled as he slammed his hand on the small table beside him.
Happy's eyes widened at Peter's outburst. "Relax!"
