Don't Cry
by Leelee
I could see the tears, like storm
clouds, gathering in his eyes. I put one weary finger to his lips. "Don't
cry," I whispered. "Please, don't cry."
"I can't help it," he replied, his
voice rough with pain. "I don't want to," he coughed, clearing his throat,
"lose you. I don't want to lose you, Ken."
"You'll never lose me," I replied.
My sight misted over and I felt something wet trickle down my cheek and
into my ear. The pain in my side wasn't growing any worse, but as the seconds
and minutes ticked by, it became more unbearable. I whimpered and closed
my eyes.
"Ken? Ken!" Davis cried frantically.
"No, Ken! Please! No! Please, don't go! I can't lose you! I don't want
to live without you!" He was wailing, a high-pitched keening that ripped
my heartstrings out and shattered my heart. I clutched the wet right side
of my torso harder, feeling blood coat my fingers. The pain burned through
me, an agony worse than anything I'd ever experienced before.
His hands were on top of mine, holding
them in place. "You're not going to die, not like this, Ken," he promised.
He sniffled loudly. His tears looked like raindrops on my shirt.
"I told you not to cry," I whispered
feebly. I tried to smile, but my lips refused to stretch any way but down.
"And I told you, I can't help it,"
Davis shot back. "Ken, listen to me. You've got to hold on, okay? Just
hold on a little bit longer. Kari and Tai went to find the nearest gate.
We're going to get you back to the real world. We'll get you to a doctor.
Ken, you're going to be okay, you're going to be okay!" His voice broke
on the last word. I forced my eyes open and blinked rapidly to clear my
sight. There was a trail of crimson across his face, where he'd tried to
wipe his tears and snot away.
It was my blood. The realization
hit me hard. For the first time since the attack, I looked down at my body.
I sucked in air and gave a loud cry. My body shook with sobs I couldn't
hold back.
"Davis," I moaned. "Davis, look
at me. Look at me!" He bowed his head.
"It's not so bad, Ken," he said in
a low voice. "You're going to be okay. The doctors -"
"The," I began, but my voice shook
too much to continue.
"You're going to be okay!" he yelled,
but not at me. He was screaming at himself. I tried to shift my weight
to the left and a wave of pain rose up and punched me in the gut. "Don't
move!" he cried. "You'll make it worse! You have to stay still, so the
doctors can -"
"The doctors can't fix this!"
I spat out finally, half in rage at him and half in fear for myself. Darkness
tinted the edges of my vision, blurring Davis's face. I choked on my own
sobs. "Davis," I whispered.
"Ken, don't!"
"Davis, don't be sad," I continued
over his protests. Everything was black. I could barely pick out his eyes,
bright and warm, two spots of light in the middle of his face. "Don't be
sad when I'm gone. Don't be sad," I trailed off. I couldn't see anything
anymore. The pain was subsiding. I felt disconnected from my body. Whose
fingers are covered in blood? They can't be mine; I don't have any fingers.
I don't have a body anymore. All I could hear was a loud roaring, like
the ocean on a stormy day.
"Ken!" a disjointed voice broke through
the darkness and begged to be heard over the roar. "KEN!" I felt myself
slipping further. There was no pain. There was no Davis. There were no
more tears, no more clouds, no more rain. There was nothing.
