She coughed, feeling her body ache with the forced movement. She eyed the pills sitting on the bedside table with dread and hate. Her throat was dry, along with her mouth. She was sick of the pills, sick of the needles. They scarred, and she was sick of the scars.
There was a knock on the door, her older brother stepping inside the room, a hopeful smile on his face. He raised his hand, the white envelope catching her eye. A glimmer of hope shined through her eyes, a look he hadn't seen since a few weeks ago, before they told her she was declining instead of getting better.
"Is it him?" She asked, sitting up a little more, excitement starting to race through her body like electricity.
She breathed out, a smile taking place on her face, and she held out her hand, her brother placing the letter in her hand before sitting in the chair next to the bed. She tore the envelope open, pulling the letter out. She could feel her heart racing already. She picked up the cup of water next to her, taking a few sips before setting it back down.
She cleared her throat, looking at her brother with a sparkle in her eyes. He missed that look.
"Dear Juliet," She read aloud. "It really has been a while, huh? I never expected to receive another letter from you. I didn't even think you still thought about me. I've definitely thought about you, wondered what happened to you, what career path you did decide to go on. You had so many."
She took a breath, another two sips of water. "I've missed you, actually. My wife asks about you occasionally. I would love for you to meet her and Jasper when you're better. I no longer live in our home city, nor New Jersey. I live in Ohio now, and with work, Ellie and the baby, I can't visit you. But, you should know that I want to."
She couldn't help the smile on her face, and when she looked over at her brother, he was smiling too. "It saddened me to hear about what happened to you. I didn't expect to feel so many things when I read your letter. I wouldn't wish cancer on my greatest enemy, and as a lawyer, I have plenty of enemies. I felt happiness when I read that you had gotten better and went back to your career as a nurse, but then when I read you were rediagnosed with it again, I felt... a lot. I don't know when you wrote the letter, but I hope you're better now. At least a little bit."
She wasn't better.
She felt as if she was dying.
"We wish you the best, Juliet. Love, John." She finished, setting the paper down on her lap.
"Wow," Her brother said.
"Yeah. I didn't expect to feel any of this, either. I just thought I'd write him a letter to thank him for everything , just in case of..." She trailed off. "I didn't think he'd send one back."
"You're so old, writing letters." He teased, giving her a look.
"You're older," She sassed back.
"Yeah, but I don't write letters. I email and text like a normal person,"
"You should trying writing letters. It's fun, and you get eager while waiting. No one writes letters anymore. Except for people who don't believe in technology,"
Her brother snorted, shaking his head at her. "Yeah, okay."
YOU ARE READING
Dear JohnTeen Fiction
She was sick, she was dying and she knew it. There was only a slimmer of hope left when she started writing again, writing to the man she hadn't talked to in so long. They were together all through high school, breaking up after they had went off to...