In the hospital bed's thin crisp sheets lies everyone's future. If that person was lucky, the bed didn't mean anything just yet. They had more time left on their hands, more things to accomplish. Their legs were strong enough to carry them home, their arms had enough strength to hug the ones they loved. Their lungs could work on their own, they'd be able to breathe. I'm not one of the lucky ones. - ˏˋ 🍓 ˊˎ - ━ a short pinkiedash story,, about 20k words ━ this story is hella old, i wrote it freshman year 💀