Live Louder

Part 1: Bucket List

"It's soon." Tyler looked up from his sketchbook and raised an eyebrow at his sister, who shifted on her hospital bed, jostling the papers that were littered all over her blanket. With shaking hands, she gathered them into a neat pile, each page covered with intricate lines of graphite that converge in places to form her sketches.

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he tucked his black-ink pen into his sketchbook, marking his spot before closing it. His sister, Kayley, raised a feeble arm and motioned for Tyler to give her his book, but he shook his head and stared pointedly at her pile. "You first."

"I'm dying, Ty," she said, rolling her eyes teasingly. "The least you could do is let me win once in a while." He knew that Kayley was trying to keep the mood light, but Tyler couldn't help but wince. After a moment, she gave in, trading her pile for his sketchbook. "Here."

About a month ago, a night meant for catching up between the siblings became a trip to the ER when he found her unconscious in her apartment, hands and mouth smeared with blood and vomit.

The doctors said that there was nothing they could do, because by the time they found it, it was too late. Treatment wouldn't likely succeed, and only delay the inevitable.

They gave her the choice, and though I wanted her to try her luck with the treatment, she refused it.

Kayley's drawings today had a common theme: the afterlife. As Tyler flipped through each piece, he couldn't help but make the connection. There was one with a drawing of a figure with wings, each feather detailed with fine strokes and lightly outlined with Kayley's gentle hand.

Another was of a small girl surrounded by darkness. She was the only source of light and as the area edged farther away from her, dark shading and angry cross-hatching followed, resembling demons and all things of the like. A scrap of paper slipped out from the pile, and written in Kayley's hand was a list. As he read, Tyler realized that it was a series of tasks, and all but one was crossed out: live louder.

Tyler looked up at Kayley and found her asleep, her head on the mountain of pillows behind her with his sketchbook on her chest, rising and falling with every shallow, laboured breath. Kayley's cheeks were hollow, the cheekbones threatening to pierce through her pale skin. Beside her, a machine beeped to match each beat of her heart. The beeps came achingly slow; a march to her heart's very last.