Based on the poem by Dylan Thomas - "Do not go gentle into that good night".
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Sometimes Kara woke up in the middle of the night. "Hunter?" She always asked for him, out loud. Maybe he was listening. She didn't blame him, though, if he wasn't. That light at the top of the hospital had looked amazing.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Her dad had tried to console her once. "It was his time," he'd offered - then he instantly regretted it when Kara's eyes ripped through his flimsy offering. Kara knew his body would never had made it. Somehow she understood he wasn't made to live any longer. But with the little impact he had made, in his little corner of the world, she missed him with all his heart.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Whenever she checked the news app on her phone, she was struck at times by how little everyone here was. Hunter's death wasn't on the news - it didn't cause a nationwide outcry. The Kardashians didn't hold a candlelight vigil. But somehow his life and his actions had made an impact anyway.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
She collected toothpicks for a while afterwards. Just a remembrance. She also sneaked around the hospital. Because Hunter didn't want her to obey the rules (no matter what the hospital workers said when they scolded her). Hunter wanted her to live.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
He must have known it wouldn't end the way his family wanted. He must have seen it all in a great moment of clarity. Hunter knew. And so he did what little he could to change the world in his last moments.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Kara knew Hunter was dead. She knew everyone dies eventually. She knew how small she was - how small Hunter was. And she knew that everyone was relieved that Hunter had… gone… peacefully.
But Kara understood that Hunter had not gone peacefully. He went out with a lot of arguing doctors and frustrated surgeons and tearful sisters… and one heartless girl.
Hunter had not gone gently. Hunter went out with heart.