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This is what happens when someone is tired of having writer's block, tired of school, and tired of forgetting to let her poor, deprived muse talk. ^-^
Chibi Dai- I do all her homework and all she gives me is Life Savers! ...*cuddles his Ken plushie* But Emilia gave me a Ken plushie...
Chibi Dai, hun, please say something about the fanfic.
Chibi Dai- *ahem* This fic is angsty and sad, and it ends up telling you the name of one of the two people at the end. *shudder* And I can't tell you who it is or Mercury won't give me any more Life Savers.
Very good. And also, what Chibi Dai forgot to say, is that you can guess whomever you think the second person is when you've finished the ficcie. Okay?
Chibi Dai- Mercury does not own Digimon but she does own the fic. *eats a banana-flavored Life Saver*
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Forever Dear
by Mercury
He was lying in one of those too-bright hospital beds when I saw the first time after the accident. The doctors had just brought him in, and he was writhing in pain and clutching his stomach, which was mostly an open wound. It nearly made me sick to look at the torn skin and blood where his stomach would have been, had he not just been the victim of a freak drive-by shooting.
I stood there and watched the doctors try to hold him down to the bed. I watched him screaming in pain, terror, or a mixture of the two as they tried to calm him, cure him, save his life.
The doctors quickly stuck a long shot down in the wound, and the poor guy screamed bloody murder. His pale face was distorted, his normally-calm eyes were ablaze in fiery pain, and his dark hair whipped about his face with every scream he let loose. The doctors forced him to lie back on the bed, even though his hurting was so obvious.
It had been very quick and very scary, when he had been shot only minutes before. We had been sitting on the sidewalk eating ice-cream, when a drunken driver sped by, firing a round of those fatal gunshots. None had hit anything living, until the one that hit him. I had screamed and clutched his arm when the shooting was going on. Then I looked up at his face, and I was met with his noticeable look of pain. The color had drained from his face, and we both looked down at the same time. He had grabbed his stomach, but he moved his hand away long enough for the both of us to see the bloody hole that tore through his middle.
Now I watched as the doctors put him to sleep with a heavy-duty gas, and one of them tried to explain to me what was going on.
She told me that my friend's life was probably not going to last much longer. She said that if there was nothing they could do about his wound, that they would take him off all of those beeping machines that I didn't understand. And he would be gone--out of my life forever.
I wasn't the smartest person in the world--though I knew enough to look at the figure in that hospital bed and realize the irony in that thought--by no means did I understand all of the medical terms that floated around me. But I knew that someone very special was quite possible dying. And I knew how strong my feelings were for him.
The nice doctor that was being so sweet to me patted my shoulder and handed me a tissue, and I realized that I was crying. But why shouldn't I be? I was in love, and the object of my affection had been taken right out from under my nose.
I sat on the floor, in the corner of the room, and I waited. I couldn't believe that his parents weren't there. And I made a promise to myself right then that I would be the one that looked after him. I would be there when he...
And then another realization hit me. He could, and most likely would, die very soon. And nothing would ever be the same again.
Who would we playfully pick on about not coming to the Digital World because of late-night studying? Who would we forever, if still subconsciously, suspect for the goings-on that plagued us in DigiWorld? Who would I lie awake at night dreaming about, and finally go to sleep only to dream of him some more? If he was gone...life would be eternally different.
I looked at him from the corner of the room and began crying anew. He looked so helpless, so unlike his usual appearance. Those doctors...they said they were trying, but how could they be? How could they let him lie there in such agony?
My questions...they were never answered completely. So many questions, that would all again surface in my mind for a long time to come.
He laid so still in that bed, so quiet, so terribly limp. He looked awfully thin and weak, and I nearly passed out every time one of those doctors shook their heads in pity.
Death became very real to me that day. I had always known that people died; that was an obvious truth. But I never dreamt that it could happen so quickly to someone so dear to me. It just wasn't the kind of thing I liked to think about.
Eventually the nice doctor crouched beside me and sighed. She told me that there was absolutely nothing left to do but to let him die. She said she was calling his parents, and when they got there, they would likely want to stay with him. So she was giving me time to say my goodbyes.
When she and the other doctors left the room, I walked to his bedside. He was gasping for the life-giving air he so needed, but couldn't recieve. When I touched his arm, he looked up at me with the eyes that I could so easily get lost in. Yet...they were full of the pain that was tearing him apart.
I fell to my knees beside the bed and wrapped my arms around his trembling body. I whispered to him as comfortingly as I could manage. I told him that I was so very sorry that it was him lying there instead of me. But I couldn't hold on without crying any longer. I think my tears scared him, proved to him that hope was gone. I didn't want to make him think like that...
His parents were taking too long in getting there, I could tell that just by watching him struggle to hold onto what few strands of life remained in him. Didn't they know that their son was fading away all too quickly?
His eyes met mine almost as though our hearts were connected, and he held my hand weakly. The very last thing he ever said was the one phrase that caused my heart to melt.
He gasped and whisprered softly, "Ai shiteru."
I replied through my heavy tears, "Ai shiteru, Ken," as he closed his eyes and lost the grip he had on my hand.
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Ah...that even made my cry...and I was the one writing it! I dedicate this to anyone who has ever lost someone special to them.
Chibi Dai- *squeezes his Ken plushie* That was so sad....! Who do you reader people think the other person was? I know who I think it was...
Allright, everyone let's hear it for Chibi Dai! My very own pet Daisuke! ^-^ *clap*
Chibi Dai- *hold up a sign that says '18 Days Until Mercury's Birthday' on it*
He's happy with me now that I let him actually speak. ^-^ Review, please! I feel less and less reviewed lately...
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This is what happens when someone is tired of having writer's block, tired of school, and tired of forgetting to let her poor, deprived muse talk. ^-^
Chibi Dai- I do all her homework and all she gives me is Life Savers! ...*cuddles his Ken plushie* But Emilia gave me a Ken plushie...
Chibi Dai, hun, please say something about the fanfic.
Chibi Dai- *ahem* This fic is angsty and sad, and it ends up telling you the name of one of the two people at the end. *shudder* And I can't tell you who it is or Mercury won't give me any more Life Savers.
Very good. And also, what Chibi Dai forgot to say, is that you can guess whomever you think the second person is when you've finished the ficcie. Okay?
Chibi Dai- Mercury does not own Digimon but she does own the fic. *eats a banana-flavored Life Saver*
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Forever Dear
by Mercury
He was lying in one of those too-bright hospital beds when I saw the first time after the accident. The doctors had just brought him in, and he was writhing in pain and clutching his stomach, which was mostly an open wound. It nearly made me sick to look at the torn skin and blood where his stomach would have been, had he not just been the victim of a freak drive-by shooting.
I stood there and watched the doctors try to hold him down to the bed. I watched him screaming in pain, terror, or a mixture of the two as they tried to calm him, cure him, save his life.
The doctors quickly stuck a long shot down in the wound, and the poor guy screamed bloody murder. His pale face was distorted, his normally-calm eyes were ablaze in fiery pain, and his dark hair whipped about his face with every scream he let loose. The doctors forced him to lie back on the bed, even though his hurting was so obvious.
It had been very quick and very scary, when he had been shot only minutes before. We had been sitting on the sidewalk eating ice-cream, when a drunken driver sped by, firing a round of those fatal gunshots. None had hit anything living, until the one that hit him. I had screamed and clutched his arm when the shooting was going on. Then I looked up at his face, and I was met with his noticeable look of pain. The color had drained from his face, and we both looked down at the same time. He had grabbed his stomach, but he moved his hand away long enough for the both of us to see the bloody hole that tore through his middle.
Now I watched as the doctors put him to sleep with a heavy-duty gas, and one of them tried to explain to me what was going on.
She told me that my friend's life was probably not going to last much longer. She said that if there was nothing they could do about his wound, that they would take him off all of those beeping machines that I didn't understand. And he would be gone--out of my life forever.
I wasn't the smartest person in the world--though I knew enough to look at the figure in that hospital bed and realize the irony in that thought--by no means did I understand all of the medical terms that floated around me. But I knew that someone very special was quite possible dying. And I knew how strong my feelings were for him.
The nice doctor that was being so sweet to me patted my shoulder and handed me a tissue, and I realized that I was crying. But why shouldn't I be? I was in love, and the object of my affection had been taken right out from under my nose.
I sat on the floor, in the corner of the room, and I waited. I couldn't believe that his parents weren't there. And I made a promise to myself right then that I would be the one that looked after him. I would be there when he...
And then another realization hit me. He could, and most likely would, die very soon. And nothing would ever be the same again.
Who would we playfully pick on about not coming to the Digital World because of late-night studying? Who would we forever, if still subconsciously, suspect for the goings-on that plagued us in DigiWorld? Who would I lie awake at night dreaming about, and finally go to sleep only to dream of him some more? If he was gone...life would be eternally different.
I looked at him from the corner of the room and began crying anew. He looked so helpless, so unlike his usual appearance. Those doctors...they said they were trying, but how could they be? How could they let him lie there in such agony?
My questions...they were never answered completely. So many questions, that would all again surface in my mind for a long time to come.
He laid so still in that bed, so quiet, so terribly limp. He looked awfully thin and weak, and I nearly passed out every time one of those doctors shook their heads in pity.
Death became very real to me that day. I had always known that people died; that was an obvious truth. But I never dreamt that it could happen so quickly to someone so dear to me. It just wasn't the kind of thing I liked to think about.
Eventually the nice doctor crouched beside me and sighed. She told me that there was absolutely nothing left to do but to let him die. She said she was calling his parents, and when they got there, they would likely want to stay with him. So she was giving me time to say my goodbyes.
When she and the other doctors left the room, I walked to his bedside. He was gasping for the life-giving air he so needed, but couldn't recieve. When I touched his arm, he looked up at me with the eyes that I could so easily get lost in. Yet...they were full of the pain that was tearing him apart.
I fell to my knees beside the bed and wrapped my arms around his trembling body. I whispered to him as comfortingly as I could manage. I told him that I was so very sorry that it was him lying there instead of me. But I couldn't hold on without crying any longer. I think my tears scared him, proved to him that hope was gone. I didn't want to make him think like that...
His parents were taking too long in getting there, I could tell that just by watching him struggle to hold onto what few strands of life remained in him. Didn't they know that their son was fading away all too quickly?
His eyes met mine almost as though our hearts were connected, and he held my hand weakly. The very last thing he ever said was the one phrase that caused my heart to melt.
He gasped and whisprered softly, "Ai shiteru."
I replied through my heavy tears, "Ai shiteru, Ken," as he closed his eyes and lost the grip he had on my hand.
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Ah...that even made my cry...and I was the one writing it! I dedicate this to anyone who has ever lost someone special to them.
Chibi Dai- *squeezes his Ken plushie* That was so sad....! Who do you reader people think the other person was? I know who I think it was...
Allright, everyone let's hear it for Chibi Dai! My very own pet Daisuke! ^-^ *clap*
Chibi Dai- *hold up a sign that says '18 Days Until Mercury's Birthday' on it*
He's happy with me now that I let him actually speak. ^-^ Review, please! I feel less and less reviewed lately...
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