Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"What do you mean 'I'm not going', you promised you would!" Eunbi whined over the phone.
"I'm dying." I replied. "Like literally. I had a fall out a few hours ago, I'm at the hospital right now."
"Why didn't you tell me? Oh my god. I'm on my way right now. You seriously need to call me whenever this happens. Now I'm worried! Oh god, oh god.." she rambled. I could hear her moving around.
"You don't have to come." I breathed out. "I'm perfectly fine right now."
"You just said you were dying!" She shouted and I had to remove the phone from my ear or it would burst.
"Ha-ha," i faked laughed. "You walked the prank. It's a prank."
'It's a prank' is an inside joke between Eunbi and I. We say 'it's a prank' or 'you walked the prank' (reference to a show) whenever we joke around.
But this time it wasn't a joke, though I wanted it to be.
"Please don't joke about this, I can't bear to lose you." She said softly.
I looked down ashamed. Joking about it was all I could do. I was dying, there wasn't much I could do about it—just joke about it. Smiling here and there pretending I'll have a long life to laugh and smile.
"Room 203." I replied softly. "Bring food."
She let out a breathy laugh. "Will do. I'll be there in a bit. Love you"
"Love you too."
No, we aren't dating. We're just best friends, maybe even sisters.
She's very important to me, a person I could go to in time of needs. Except medical stuff, I go to the doctor for that (obviously). If I were to go to Eunbi, she'd probably accidentally kill me.
My mom entered the room, a pitiful look on her face. "How are you feeling, honey?"
I hated when she did that. I was supposed to be the one to take care of her when she grew old. Not the other way around, I was supposed to bury her not the other way around. Though it'd be painful, leaving her behind was so much more unbearable.
As you can tell, I think about this a lot.
"I'm fine." I automatically said as this response had become fairly frequent over the years.
Even if it wasn't always true.
She smiled softly at me. "There's my strong girl." She ran her hand through my hair.
Little did she know, I was at the weakest point of my life.
I smiled.
You know, smiling hurt me more than my disease. Smiling became an unspoken lie told to others and myself.
I wanted to believe it.
I wanted to believe I would be fine and I wanted others to believe that too.
But at the end of the day I knew.
I knew this wasn't true. None of it was.
I know I'm dying and I'll soon die and sink into a pool of never ending darkness and loneliness.
I'd like to believe there's a heaven and a hell, but whenever I slip in between life and death, i see darkness.
Nothing but darkness.
Not even a peek of this 'heaven' or 'hell' everyone speaks of.
I don't say anything though. Who am I to burst other's beliefs?
I'm scared of death, if I'm being honest. I'm scared of dying and diving into this lonely darkness I speak of.
I'm scared of hurting those I care for by dying.
"Honey," my mother called, interrupting my thoughts. "Are you really okay?"
And once again, my automatic response fell out of my lips. "I'm fine."
