Aaron looked down at Emily on that cold Friday afternoon, her long auburn hair spread out on the white pillow, her sweet pale face looking forlorn on the bleached hospital bed. Her chest moved steadily upward with every breath she took; they were uneven breaths, but breaths all the same.



Emily’s eyes were closed, but Aaron knew that a stunning emerald green lay beneath them. Her soft, full lips were parted slightly as air moved inward and outward like that of a calling wind. She looked quiet out of place in the cold, colorless room. The only noise that filled the chilling silence was that of the heart machine that sat beating unsteadily in the corner.

A long thin needle was sticking precariously out of Emily’s arm, and a gently flowing liquid made it’s way down the clear tube and into her veins. The smell of death was thick in the air, and the eerie glow of the artificial lights above reflecting off the tiles didn’t ease the tension Aaron got from just sitting in those walls. He glanced at the glass windows that looked out of the white prison cell.

Doctors and nurses hustled about still fulfilling their daily duties, not caring that there was a girl in here that nobody could figure out what was wrong with her. When she had began to feel faint in PE that day, and had to stop running. When she was walking home from school and couldn’t continue onwards because she felt dizzy and had to grab a stop sign for support. No one thought it would be her, the one who loves everyone, who can turn on a dime and instantly kick a** and take names if you got on her nerves. She was the funny one that weird things happened to, she was the artistic one, the passionate one, the sporty one, the one everyone wanted to be friends with, but not for popularity just because it was Emily.

And now she was in here in this hospital, with luminescent light feeding her trapped body, she would hate to be stuck in such a place, it would be nothing but a nightmare to her. It would be like trapping a bird in too small of a cage and telling it not to go stir-crazy.

Nobody had expected her to be the just getting something from the fridge for dinner when she fell. The plate fell and broke, attracting Aaron’s immediate attention. He had run in to see her on the floor, passed out, and the plate lying close to her smashed, the pieces scattered everywhere.



Just as Aaron was going over this in his head, the door slowly opened and he looked up to see older man, in about his fifties with a balding head and beady brown eyes, which reminded him of a rat. Aaron caught the name tag on his white lab coat, it read in big black letters, Dr. Drew. Dimples lined his worn wrinkled face, but there was not a smile shining on his old lips. Dr. Drew glanced down at the metal clipboard in his hand, his face grim, and set in a determined manner.



Aaron got up from the cold metal chair that he had been sitting restlessly on, and shook the doctors hand, he had a firm even grip.

“Who are you, son?” Dr. Drew asked carefully, releasing Aaron’s grip.

“Aaron.” He answered simply, the tone of worry in every single syllable, he felt the tickle of fear slide down his back.

“Ah, your that one.” He glanced at his papers again, but this time nervously. His face went dead as he looked at the hope in Aaron’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.” The doctor whispered, no longer meeting Aaron’s stare.

Aaron felt worry and fear grip him.

Not Emily. No. He thought erratically, glancing in his girlfriend’s direction, her image the color in the room. She had to be okay; the world wouldn’t be the same if she weren’t.

“What? What is it?” He asked, his voice thick with fear. He loved her she couldn’t leave him alone on this stupid earth, alone. For forever. No.



“She has cancer.” Dr. Drew whispered.

. . .