I feel it coming. I look to my mother sitting at my bed with a tentative hand on my knee almost like she feels she might break me if she puts too much pressure. My father stands behind her with a hand on her shoulder and tears in his eyes. Those little tears are what jerk at my heart because he knows too. Everyone knows.
The rest of the family in the background stare at me, but I don’t even have the energy to focus on them. I can feel the faint beating of my heart beneath my chest. Thump thump thump. I know it’s growing slower. I can’t say how. It’s not like I could actually feel something like that. I just know. Suddenly my eyes grow too heavy for me to even attempt to hold open, and I feel myself drifting off. Maybe this is what death is like.
But first, I think of Hazel. She is probably asleep now. Or maybe she’s awake thinking of me too. It’s selfish but I like to think she is. I like to think that even though we are apart, we can share this one last moment together in our thoughts.
That is when I dive into unconsciousness.
