I could barely lift my arm when the nurse came in to change my IV. She checked my other tubes and all the other machines I was hooked up to before leaving. I watched her retreating back, she never said a word. Not many of them did: one step in here and you could practically smell the death.

My mother looked up from her newspaper and looked at my black and blue arm, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes. I assumed it was to keep her tears in. I had known that she'd cried throughout this ordeal, but she had never once cried where I could see her. Which was good, because I'm sure crying with her would exert the last of my strength, which I needed so dearly.

"Do you need anything, sweetheart?" she asked once she regained her composure.

I answered the same way I always do. "Water."

She grabbed a small glass of ice water by the bed and put its straw to my lips. The doctors said to give me room temperature water to conserve my calories, but after I told them I didn't really give a shit and that I was dying anyway, they got off my back. My boyfriend, Gabe, was asleep at my feet. He had his hand closed around one of my frail hands and his mouth was slightly open. I owe so much to him, and he was so certain that I would heal and be able to pay him back. He is too sweet for his own good.

I knew that my time was coming to an end. And soon. I can't eat anything without it immediately coming back up and my skin is bruised everywhere. I have maybe a handful of hairs left on my head. I know how ugly I must look and so I am further amazed that he is still able to love me and smile for me as my hourglass runs out.

There is no name for whatever I have. When I first began to get sick, my doctor at first thought it was AIDS, but after some blood work it was soon seen that my body was just… Dying.

"Was there anything unusual that happened before your illness?" the doctor had asked after breaking the news. "Anything at all that you ate or touched that could be making you sick?"

'Yes!' I wanted to shout, gripping the edge of the examination table. 'Yes, I know what it is.'

I had found it in the woods behind my house while walking my dog, Marty. We were on a particularly isolated trail when I saw a weird, perfectly round stone sitting in the middle of the path. I picked it up and brought it to a stream to wash it, when the mud melted away and I saw it was glossy and pitch black with a vein of crimson shooting through it. Marty wasn't on a leash, but he kept his distance from me as I held it, occasionally yipping and shaking his bottom like he was scared.

I sat with it for a moment, gazing into its depths, when I felt every muscle in my body suddenly contract. My fingers squeezed onto the obsidian and my eyes were locked onto the center of it, were its crimson contents began swirling like a slow and powerful storm. It was then I realized that it was absolutely fucking evil.

Even though it scared me and I knew that it was capable of extreme harm to myself, I couldn't consciously make myself leave it in the woods. If I set it on the ground and tried to walk away, my footsteps became heavy and I found myself scratching my arms till they bled from anxiety until I went back for it. From the start it had a firm hold on me.

So when my doctor asked me if there was anything suspicious in my life, I struggled with what I was going to say. How do I describe this object? A black obsidian sphere from hell that watched me when I slept and now was trying to kill me? Would he think I was losing my mind?

"Nope," I finished quietly, defeated. "Nothing at all."

At this very moment, I could look over from my hospital bed, through all the tubes and liquids, and see that damn sphere sitting by my window. I hated it so fucking much. But I couldn't stop myself from begging for it to be brought to the hospital. Looking at it nourished me like nothing else could. It was madness, I realize. And I was going mad, carrying the weight of the obsidian sphere with me and being its keeper. My mom and Gabe just saw it as me grieving.

I felt my eyes begin to droop shut and I cursed myself. I should be stronger than this, but I don't know how to fight something that planted itself inside my mind like this. My eyes closed and images came to me like an electric shock. I was startled awake.

My mom put her paper to the side and grabbed my free hand. "You alright, honey?"

"Yeah," I gasped, my chest heaving. "My dreams are just really vivid nowadays."

"What do you dream about?" she asked, stroking my face.

I looked at my loving mom. Her hands were calloused from a life of hard work, but her eyes were always soft. She had raised me single-handedly and put me through veterinary school. She was my absolute favorite person in the world; always gentle and full of laughter. She continued stroking my face.

I regretted a lot of things in my life, but I felt the worst about breaking her heart like this. I pulled away from her warm touch and to stare at my lap; guilty for hurting her.

"When I fall asleep, it's like I'm waking up somewhere soft. From where I am I can see these really, really beautiful people. They're all looking at me." I paused; it was hard to continue. I knew what I was seeing. "Everything looked white."

I tried not to look at her as I heard her start sobbing. My mother collapsed onto the bed, her head on my stomach. Her sobs shook the bed and wetted my sheets. I put a frail, ugly hand on her head.

"Mom, don't cry, please," I begged and felt tears fog my vision.

"My baby, my poor baby," she kept saying through the sobs. Gabe sat up and loosed his hand from mine to rub his head. He blinked at this display.

"What's wrong, Karen?" he asked and put his hand on my mom's back.

She looked up at him, her face red and her eyes swollen. "My poor baby sees heaven when she sleeps."

As if it was a cue they both turned and looked at me. I blinked at them, unsure of what to say; they already knew I was dying. When I first had the dream, I was scared shitless. It was the same dream every time; I was lying in bed and some figures with blurry faces were bent over me and talking in some sort of sing-song language. Even with the blurred faces, I know that they were beautiful. Soon I realized I was just getting a sneak peak to the next step of my existence.

"I'm just glad it's not hell I look at every night," I joked.

No one laughed.

"I love you so much," My mom murmured, kissing my forehead before walking out the door. I wanted to tell her I loved her too and that I was sorry for doing this to her, but she was already gone. I made a mental note to tell her later.

Gabe sighed. "How're you feeling, baby?"

I smiled weakly. "I'm sure not as bad as I look."

"You know you're beautiful," he said, smiling softly and sitting on the edge of my bed. In a way, I was thankful that my mom had to leave the room. We never got a moment to ourselves, and there was something I needed to say but I wasn't sure how to say it. Eventually, I just let the words fall out of my mouth as they came.

"After this is over, you have to get back out there," I said, looking at my feet. There was no way I could look at him in the face as I said this.

"What do you mean?" he asked, but he knew what I meant. That only made it harder for me to actually put into words.

"After I die," I stated, finally looking at him meaningfully. "You're going to find someone you love very much. Just because this is happening to me doesn't mean that your life ends with me."

"You're not going to die-"

"Please, Gabe," I said gruffly, but my voice cracked with misery. He noticed and his grip on my hand tightened. "We both have known that there was nothing that they could do for me and that this was going to be it. And I want you to promise me that after this…."

Tears started silently streaming down my face and he tried wiping them away one by one, but in the end, there were too many to fight. These were the tears I had been storing since day one, when I realized I was never going to be able to marry him, or have his children. I would only get to die by his side. The tears blurred my vision and I hid my face in my arm.

"We would've been so happy together," I choked out.

Gabe gulped visibly, trying to choke down tears. "That was a very cruel thing to say."

"I'm sorry," I sniffed. "But please, I am begging you. Find someone and love them... for both of us."

He didn't reply. Gabe leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead, excusing himself from the room and hiding his face in his hands. I watched him leave with a heavy heart. Now the room was empty of life besides me, as it had never been since I was filed as 'terminal'.

I looked over at the window sill, where the obsidian sphere rested. I felt it watching me, with its heavy black eyes.

"You were waiting till I was alone, weren't you?" I whispered and I reached over, struggling to bring the stone to me. It weighed more than I could lift, but a pulse of energy from it helped bring it to my lap.

"You're a monster, you know that?" I said to it, running my hand through my hair and feeling a fistful fall out in the process. The stone's crimson insides began to swirl.

"You were waiting till I was alone, weren't you?" I found myself repeating, my eyes fixed on its swirling crimson center. "It was always your plan for me to die alone."

It was taking all it could from me, the very last of what I had. It drew what was left through my hands that were frozen to its surface, stealing my life and changing it into something new. I just as powerless as I ever was, and nothing was going to save me now that it had me where it wanted me.

I couldn't hold my head up any longer and I let it fall back onto the pillows. My mouth became dry and the whole world became a shadow that I couldn't see through. I was terrified so I closed my eyes.

My mom returned and I seemed to be sleeping. When she said my name and I didn't awake, she cradled my head and cried till she could barely breathe. My eyes were closed and my mouth was open; hands gripping the obsidian stone so hard my nails were broken.