Playground school bell rings again,
Rain clouds come to play again,
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello...I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to...
Hello.
Her gentle blue eyes always reminded him of the ocean.
Whether it was the way they sparkled whenever she saw him, or the way the light of the setting sun reflected in them when they sat, just the two of them, and talked for hours in Twilight Town. She always used to run to him when things were taking a turn for the worst, and somehow he always knew how to make things better. Then she would smile at him, and those blue eyes would shine again.
But whenever she looked up at Roxas in the stark white hospital room and gave him a wary smile, they didn't seem to shine that way anymore.
She had been there for about two months. At first, Roxas noticed that she had been missing more school than usual. He didn't see or talk to her for over a week. When he called, she didn't answer the phone.
But one day as he arrived home, there she was, sitting on his front step, curled up with her head in her hands. He ran to her, asking what was wrong. And she told him, tearfully, that she was sick. Very, very sick.
Over the next few weeks, he noticed the she was beginning to look more and more sickly every time he saw her.
Then, she ended up in the hospital. Her shoulder-length blond hair was shorn off, and her eyes…he couldn't even look at them anymore. They were so sad now.
Whenever he came to visit her, her pale face lit up, as if she hadn't seen him in years. She looked so small to him in the giant hospital bed.
When he came to visit her one afternoon, he entered the room silently. He watched her as she stared out the small, dirty window. The light that filtered through illuminated her face. She looked as if she was glowing, like an angel.
And then she turned to look at him and smiled weakly.
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream.
Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken.
Hello...I'm the lie living for you so you can hide.
Don't cry.
He thought back to when he first met her. They were just little kids back then. She was the small and fragile new kid in town, and an easy target for the other kids. He was her only friend.
On his 10th birthday, she had given him a little wooden box that she had helped her dad make for him. She told him that he could keep all his secrets in it. He never actually used it though.
Until she ended up in the hospital. Then he used the box to keep pictures of the two of them together. He kept ticket stubs of movies they had seen together and popsicle sticks from every night they spend up on the clock tower, eating ice cream. He kept every memory of their time together, just in case.
Just in case.
He didn't know what would happen to her.
At first, he blamed himself. Maybe, just maybe, if he had been a better friend. Maybe if he had been more sympathetic the time she fell off of her bike and scraped her knee. She cried. He got angry.
So he went every day, to keep her company. He was there through every blood test, every shot, every procedure. He stayed by her side.
Today was no different. He was supposed to go to school today. Instead, Roxas hopped on his bike and raced to the hospital. Today was the day she was supposed to go through round two of treatment. He wanted to be there. She had even made him a new drawing to add to his collection. She loved to draw.
He wanted to show her the bracelet he had made for her the night before out of beautiful, bright blue beads. They were the same color as her eyes.
As he raced up the steps to her room, he smiled. Today was the day she would finally start getting better.
Outside her room was her dad. He was slumped against the wall, his face in his hands. When he looked up at Roxas, his face was red and tears streamed from his eyes.
The bracelet in his hands slipped to the floor; the fragile sting snapped and sent the beads crashing into a million little pieces.
Suddenly, I know I'm not sleeping.
Hello...I'm still here,
All that's left of yesterday.