𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗹𝗲 | ˢʰᵒʳᵗ⁻ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ✓

35

35.

I opened my eyes when someone lovingly called my name. My crazed look dissolved. My face lit up with happiness. You were standing at the door of the hospital room, tall and handsome as ever.

Except, something was wrong. . .

Your face was sorrowful. You stretched out your hands, as if reaching out to hold me and my hands. Automatically, I stretched my arms back.

This causes the doctors to turn around and look at you.

Come closer, I mentally urged.

You shook your head miserably. 'Remember,' you stared intensely at me, 'remember everything. Remember that I love you so much.'

I don't know how I was able to hear your voice in my head, because I was fairly certain that your plump, beautiful lips were unmoving.

"Don't go," I said, loudly.

Everyone else in the room turned back to look at me. "Dearie, who are you pointing at, and talking to?"

"My b— my friend, the one I was talking about, he's right there," I spoke hurriedly, wondering why you weren't moving, and kept staring at me expectantly, despair etched in every corner of your flawless face.

"Sylvie," my stepmother spoke slowly, "there's no one there."

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