"Mary," I whispered at her door, " I have something to tell you." With a shaky breath, I opened the door to the cold dark room,"Mary," I said again.
I have to tell her. She needs to know.
I inhaled deeply and tried not to blurt out. "You are dying."
She didn't say anything. I watched her round stomach rise and fall. Slow yet deep breaths, made her sick figure even more fragile. Seeing her breath, fluttered my heart. She was beautiful. I loved her. I still do. I love her.
But she can't hear me tell her that.
"You can't understand me, huh?" I walked from the door way towards her," probably can't hear me either," I sat on the edge of her bed. I strangled a cry. If it's true that she can hear me, then I must not cry. Or she will cry. I want her to be happy, and I want to tell her to be happy.
But she can't hear me tell her that.
"But it's okay," I gave her my best smile I can manage," it doesn't make much of a difference."
She may not ever hear me again.
I got up, kissed her forehead and went towards the thermostat.
She must be freezing.
But your used to being cold aren't you?
YOU ARE READING
More Than it Seems
UngdomsfiksjonRandom yet interesting story that has more than one meaning. Can you figure out what it is before the end? 888888 Blood.Sweat. Tears. It was all here. Here right in front of me. And I get to witness it all. The scene could've been an angelic paint...
