Zak held the girl's frail hand in his own. Tears trickled down his cheeks. The girl's skin was unnaturally pale, almost translucent. She looked like a ghost, her once golden hair now gray. She looked so small in the bed, all the wires from the monitors and medication attached to her body. The only color on her entire body was the simple silver Z- shaped pendant around her neck. Zak had given it to her on their first Valentine's Day.
"Zak," she whispered.
He held her hand tighter. "I'm right here, Calla." He whispered. He couldn't believe it; at twenty one he was losing the love of his life.
Her dull brown eyes, once full of joy and life, met his. "Don't leave." She pleaded.
"I will never leave. I promise Calla." He promised, holding back a sob.
His eyes scanned through the other crying people crammed in the bedroom room. Calla's mother and father. Her brother and sister. A group of her friends. The doctor sat across from Zak, his stethoscope over her heart. He looked up at Zak. His eyes clearly read, 'It is time to say goodbye.' The slow beeping of the monitor was the only sound.
Calla coughed. It was deep and guttural, painful to listen to. Zak put a hand over her mouth, pulling it away to see blood. She took a gasping breath and Zak rubbed his hand on his pants. She grabbed his arm, "Never forget me." She whispered.
Zak touched her cheek. "You are not leaving." He protested.
"Promise me, Zak." She said softly.
"I-I," his voice cracked, "I promise. I will never forget you, or what we had Calla."
She smiled, but Zak could still see her pain. "I love you." She whispered.
"I love you too, Calla." He whispered back.
She pushed herself up, wincing in pain. She touched Zak's lips to hers. "Goodbye, my lover." She whispered.
Zak helped her lay back down. "Don't say goodbye," he pleaded, "I don't want it to be goodbye."
Her breaths started to slow. "Goodbye, Zak. I love you." She said, her eyes starting to close.
"Calla? Calla, please! You have three more years! The doctor said!" he said, tears pouring down his face. "Please, Calla."
"I love you." She said again, taking her last breaths.
"I love you," Zak sobbed, "I love you."
Calla Lilly Monroe took her last breaths on the earth, leaving it at twenty years old. She left behind a sobbing man. A man who loved her dearly. A man who had lost her to leukemia.
"Zak? Zak snap out of it." Nick said, pulling Zak out of his horrific daydream. Zak looked at his friend, Nick's eyes filled with worry. "You okay, man? You haven't been the same since we started this investigation." He said. He was turned around in the passenger seat of the van, brandishing a camera. He was filming one of Aaron's Vlogs for YouTube.
Zak put a shaky hand in his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out of a picture of young woman; she had short blonde hair, curled into ringlets. Big, warm, chocolate brown eyes that sparkled with passion. She had a Mediterranean-like complexion and a bright white smile. She was wearing an emerald green sundress and had a white rose in her hair. She was sitting on a rock, her legs crossed, in front of a waterfall. She looked like she had been photographed in mid-laugh.
He handed it to Nick. "Her name was Calla." He whispered.
"Like the flower?" Aaron asked.
Zak nodded. "Her name was Calla Lilly Monroe. She was beautiful. We started dating during our freshman year of high school. I saw her when she was trying out for cheer; I was trying out for basketball. She was one of those girls who could actually light up your life with a smile. I was so intimidated by her. I was this scraggly fifteen year old who was already six feet tall. She was perfect. Perfect hair, perfect body, perfect smile, perfect attitude, everything. It wasn't until the last dance of our last dance that year until I actually told her I liked her. We slow danced and everything was perfect. We started dating that summer. She was everything I could have wanted. She was an amazing piano player. She could sing and dance. She was my teenage dream. Then, she told me something that made me love her even more. She was dying of leukemia."
Zak looked up at his friends, who looked back at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.
"She only had until she was twenty four." He said, staring at the picture lovingly.
"We stayed together through high school, got this little house in Chicago after we graduated. She was doing just fine. Then around her twentieth birthday, she was in the hospital more. On the night of her twenty first birthday, we said goodbye. We are locking down in the house she died in. I have to see if she is there." He bit back a sob, feeling the warm tears spill down his cheeks.
He pointed to the Iron Gate, "Turn there Aaron." He said. Aaron turned into the small cemetery, parking the car. Zak slide out, opening the trunk of the car and picking up a bouquet of calla lilies. He, Nick and Aaron walked out to a large cherry blossom tree, bent over a single headstone. It was made of black marble, the words engraved in gold.
Calla Lily Monroe
'Pooh Bear'
May 17, 1975- May 17, 1996
Aged 21 Years of Age
Beloved Daughter, Sister, Friend, Mother, and Lover
'Promise you will never forget me because if I thought you would I'd never leave'
Underneath the script was an angel, said to look like Calla. Zak placed the lilies in front of the grave. He touched his fingers to his lips, pressing them to the cold marble. He held them there, tears spilling from his eyes. He didn't care his friends were behind him, filming his sobbing. He knew that six feet under, she was in a white casket; wearing a long strapless white gown over her small body, holding a white rose. The necklace he gave her around her neck.
"Can I have a moment?" he asked. Nick and Aaron walked away, leaving their friend bent over a grave.
Zak brushed the tears off his cheeks, memories flooding back to him. A warm breeze blew through the tree, sending white and pink blossoms through the air. For a minute, Zak thought he heard her giggle. He thought he saw her image appear, smiling at him from over the grave, only to disappear in the breeze.
Zak shook his head, standing up and walking down to his friends. Nick squeezed his shoulder, "You okay man?" he asked.
Zak nodded. Aaron patted him on the back. They all walked back to the car and drove away from the cemetery. The only sound was Zak's sniffles and the hum of the engine.
Aaron pulled up in front of the house that Zak had known so well.
The perfect green yard, decorated with her flowers and baby cherry blossom tree. The gray brick, two story home with white siding on the second floor. The wraparound porch with the swing he had imagined her rocking their baby son on. The dark windows with the yellow curtains she had made. The four car garage he had turned into his man cave. All surrounded by the white picket fence they had built when they bought the house.
Zak got out of the car, walking up to the front door. He pulled the simple silver key out of his pocket, opening the front door.
He walked into the living room. It was small and homey; the walls painted beige with many photographs and painting hanging. Some paintings by Calla herself. A old, faded, brown leather couch sat in the middle of the room, a tan crochet blanket hanging on the back. Next to the couch was a wooden chest of drawers. On top of the chest were a few books, a candle sitting on top. Above the wooden mantle of the fireplace was a large faced clock. Zak smiled, remembering the moments shared in the room.
He walked upstairs, peering into a large master bedroom. The walls were tan and a black bed stood in the center. Next to it were two black wooden nightstands. Above the bed was a painting of a Hawaiian beach that Calla had painted, imagining the beach their wedding would be on. Zak looked at the pictures on the nightstand and long dresser holding up a flat screen TV. He opened one of the drawers, inhaling the smell of her perfume and running his fingers over her favorite red cardigan.
Nick and Aaron filmed their friend as he walked down the hallway to a white door. He took a deep breath before curling his fingers around the brass knob. Nick and Aaron filmed as he walked into the pale blue room. In the corner of the room was a mahogany crib. It held a blue quilt decorated with sailboats and matching pillows. Above the crib was a carousel with hanging sailboats. On the wall were stitched pictures of a sailboat, steering wheels, and an anchor. A matching nightstand stood next to the crib, holding up a lamp that matched the bedding. On the opposite wall was a changing table, stocked with diapers, wipes and baby powder. Next to the crib was a window with blue curtains. To the left of the window was a rocking chair. Zak watched as it started rocking, not bothering to panic or freak out. He just stared at the picture under the lamp.
It was a picture of Calla holding a newborn baby boy in a hospital bed looking down at him, Zak crying and looking down lovingly at his son.
He touched the frame lovingly, "Tyler." He whispered. He turned to his friends, "He would have been fifteen today. Ninth grade. I knew he was destined to do great things."
"What happened?" Nick asked.
"P-premature." He stuttered. "He died a week after he was born. My only son. Taken away so suddenly. I think it's the reason she started doing so bad."
Nick and Aaron couldn't speak. There friend who seemed so strong, was so broken inside. All of the things they could have never explain; never having a girlfriend, always chasing the paranormal was explained. He was trying to find them.
They looked at the picture of the baby boy. Zak's eyes, Calla's hair, a mix of their features, he was a handsome child. Next to it was a picture of Zak sitting in the rocking chair, holding a bundle of blankets and smiling. The third frame held a picture of a baby boy; he was laying in the crib on his side sucking his thumb. He was wearing a white diaper and a baby blue crochet beanie with matching booties. His eyes were open, displaying Zak's bright blue eyes.
Zak touched the frame lovingly. His little boy. His little Tyler. He wished he could hear his cries again. Hold him again. His him and tell him how much he loved him. Tyler was supposed to be his pride and joy. Calla was supposed to be the strong, loving survivor by Zak's side. None of it happened.
No more of Calla's smiles.
No more of Tyler's laughter.
No more dreaming of what tomorrow would bring.
No more of Calla or Tyler.