Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“No.” I swallow, my throat is tight, my body ceases to function as I stare at the wall. “No, I don’t want that, I don’t want to be a vegetable—the Family can’t see me like that.” Izzy can’t see me like that.
I refuse it.
“I’ll fly down in about five days,” Nikolai says in a clinical voice. “Until then, I don’t want you to think I’ve given up. I have a few leads from the other medications being used for rape victims and trauma. The molecular structure is similar, and it’s… well, it’s something rather than nothing. I want to encourage you again to prepare friends and family.”
How the hell do I prepare them when I can’t even prepare myself?
“You’ll take care of it, right?” My voice trembles. “In the end? And it won’t hurt?”
“Death”—his voice is low —“is a little like sleep. You’ll close your eyes and expect to wake up in the morning; you’ll be at peace, I promise.”
Says a man raised in war holding the weapon.
My dad won’t take it well.
My mom will be a mess.
Tears fill my eyes when I think about my younger sister.
Of King and how Valerian’s near-death almost killed King’s soul dead.
I have nobody to blame but my own body.
And fighting it just ends my life sooner.
I have no answers.
No saviors.
All I have is her. The girl wearing my white shirt, lying in that bed, waiting, not knowing that waiting just means the time goes by faster. This short time we have—it will never be enough.
I hang up the phone.
It’s how I find myself in Izzy’s room, begging, fucking pleading with my soul to hold her hand.
I sound normal.
I wish I were more drunk.
Instead, I’m experiencing hell while living.
Do I really have the heart to spend the last few days on this earth with her? Without telling her my secret? Does that make me selfish? I can’t decide. All I know is that I’m not her friend.
I can’t be her friend anymore, not right now.
I don’t look at her as a friend.
I look at her like she’s my forever.
Her hand squeezes mine.
That’s how I fall asleep. Holding forever in my hand, wishing I could keep her in my heart, but that’s not how death will be for me.
Will I fall asleep just like this? Holding her hand and praying for a miracle? Will she wake up and notice that my heart no longer beats for her when it would do anything to stay?
A tear slides down my cheek before I can stop it. I know I look weak and drunk, but if she knew, if she really knew, I’d like to think I’m holding it together for the most part.
Usually, when people are given a countdown, they do all the things they wish they would have done, no regrets, right? They have their family surrounding them with bittersweet joy.
What would I do if I knew?
My mind immediately goes to a family story—a legend, really—about a girl who died too soon, reminding me of the song If I Die Young.
Rumor has it that all the bosses, our dads, got together one night with this girl, her name was Andi. They sang the song, and she sang it, knowing she would die. Seeing the end and braving it like the warrior she was.
Sergio doesn’t talk about her a lot—but every year, every fucking year, he goes to her grave and lays down a piece of folded paper. I can barely see the dark writing on it, but I know for a fact it’s always the same.
I asked him once what it was, asked him why he did it, assuming it was a letter of things left unsaid.
She died too soon of leukemia and was engaged to him. He smiled when he admitted how horrible he was to her. Val, his wife now, just held his hand the way I’m holding Izzy’s and says, “She’d punch you if she heard that.”
“Good.” And Sergio smiled.
Then, Val kissed him on the mouth and walked off, leaving Sergio and me to stare at the gravestone.
He smiled.
It was weird.
His mourning was to smile.
Minutes later, Val returned wearing a pair of beautiful white pearls around her neck. She had a piece of red satin wrapped around her, and she twirled toward Sergio.
It was so simple.
I had no idea what was going on.
But I felt tears in the back of my throat as they began to dance in front of her tombstone, twirling and twirling.
And when they were done, she took off her pearls and laid them to rest on the ground where he’d put the piece of paper.
“It’s all the things she wanted to do before she died,” Sergio whispered. “She did it, you know, she did them all. She was the rainbow after the storm. The fresh breeze that comes in the spring. Fallen leaves in the fall. She was here, and then she wasn’t. Her body gave up, but her spirit…” He smiled up at Val. “It won’t ever die because we won’t let it.”