15 Days

Day 13

Alex took one last long look around Kara's apartment, and started to make her way to the door. Tripping over a box, she collided straight with the edge of Kara's bed. It was then she found it. The small wooden crate of Kara's favorite things. A black moleskin notebook caught her eye. She opened it, recognizing her sisters familiar, loopy handwriting. She flipped to the last entry, dated to twelve days ago.

I don't know what to do anymore. Alex told me I was going to die yesterday. She's taking a shower right now.
I have this black dress in my closet, that's what I will wear to my own funeral. It's slim fitting, Mon El bought it for me. I found it folded in his drawer. I can't believe this but there was a small box, with an engagement ring in it sitting in his coat. He wanted to marry me and now he is dead because of me. The ring is also in this wooden crate, in its velvet box. This crate should be buried with me, in my casket. I want a small funeral. All of the money in my bank account should be donated to disaster relief charities. 
Love, Kara

The paper was marked by tear stains, and black pen smudges, and was definitely written by her. "What's that?" Maggie asked, crouching from behind. "I took the last boxes to the car," she added.

"It's Kara's diary," Alex said with a sad smile. Maggie reached over and read the page.

"She was about to be engaged?" she said, after a pause. Alex dug through the crate and found the little box. She opened it gently, and set it on the floor. The ring was a vine design, the stone a small white diamond with sapphire petals blooming around it. It was perfect for Kara. It really was sad that she never got to marry her love. Right there Maggie kneeled in front of Alex as she stood with her hands pressed over her mouth, eyes shining with tears.

"Alexandra no-middle-name Danvers. Will you marry me?"

"What! Yes! Yes!  

_

Kara's heart was still beating. But she was fighting for every breath, every movement. The twitch of an eyelid, the movement of her limbs, it was all so difficult. Being trapped inside your own brain isn't fun. You see false dreams, and remember everything you've lost. The steady sound of the pump moving her lungs turned into monsters in her dreams. She would open her mouth to scream as the demon moved closer, only to find herself voiceless. She would hear her sisters voice talking soothingly to her, comforting her. But if only she could open her eyes again. Talk to her sister. Not be trapped in her own mind. It was even worse than the black mercy. She wanted to give up. Not be hooked up to a dozen machines. Not rely only on her ears. She wanted to float away into the darkness.