"You have cancer."

Those were the three words I never wanted to hear. No one wants to hear those words. When you hear them, it doesn't sink in at first. Then they tell you the next thing.

"You have five years to live."

It starts sinking in. You realize that all of your medical conditions were caused by that horrid disease.

Cancer.

You start thinking, then, while you're laying in the hospital bed and just staring blankly at the pure emptiness around you. You start counting all of the things you would have been able to do if you hadn't gotten sick. You start thinking of all the things you can't do anymore. You start thinking of all the people you're leaving behind. You wonder what death is like. You're scared to go to sleep at night. You're scared that, at any moment, you could drop dead. You might never get to say goodbye to someone.

But maybe you would have someone to say goodbye to.

I'm writing this today. I'm not sure what the date is. I refuse to keep count. But I do know one thing. I know that, as of tomorrow, my five years will be up.

I feel okay. Better than usual. It doesn't hurt as bad. I can breathe a little easier. I'm watching television now, but I'm not sure what's on. My eyesight is a little blurry and my hearing isn't very good. My parents aren't here to visit me. Not like they ever have, though. They died a long time ago. I feel okay, though. Just a little lonely. I'm still weak and I'm still tired, but I don't want to go to sleep. I don't want to close my eyes and never open them again.

I don't want to die.

I'm only twenty-two. I can't die now. I've never voted on a ballot, I've never had an alcoholic drink, I never got to graduate at my school, I never got to drive, I never went to prom… The list goes on. There's so much I wanted to do before I died. But now, Death is staring me in the face. The Grim Reaper is keeping a close eye on me. He's just waiting.

Everyone's waiting.

But I don't want the wait to be over.

I want to get better. I want to leave this hospital. This stupid room I've been in for half a decade. I wish I could just leave all this behind and go back to living a normal life like I should be. Goofing off in college. No, I want to go back to high school first. I want to get those experiences. But, more than anything, I want to leave here and see the world. I want to meet people. I want to fit in. I want to be accepted. I want a friend.

I want to be in love.

My doctor here is nice. He's really young, too. He was a trainee a couple years ago and now he's my full-time nurse. He delivers my food and medications and wheels me around in my wheelchair whenever I need to go somewhere. He sits with me and we talk. Well, he talks and I listen. He tells me stories about what college was like and what it's like to share an apartment with his brother. He's twenty-six and his brother is my age. They live in an apartment across the street. They both work at the hospital.

I wish I could go visit.

I told him all of this once. I told him how badly I wanted to get out of the world. I told him how much I wanted love and how much I just wanted to be a normal guy like he is.

He just ruffled my hair and said "I'll see what I can do."

That was two weeks ago. Since then, he hasn't been my nurse. It's some other lady I hate. Whenever I ask about Axel, my usual nurse, she just tells me to be quiet and rest. I need to know, though. Did he get fired? Or did he just leave me?

Why do I even care?

I'll die soon. I guess it doesn't matter about Axel. He was just a nurse, that's it. It's not like he actually had a connection with me. It's not like we're best friends. He just works here. I'm just stuck here. Just stuck here.

It's getting really late now. They shut off my TV and told me to stop writing on this. But I won't. I don't want to go to sleep. I don't want to die. I don't want to stop writing. Because people need something to remember me by. Because I want Axel to know how I really feel about everything.

Because I want him to know that I love him.

I don't even know if he'll read this. It might just get thrown out. No, it definitely will. I'm writing on a paper towel, for Pete's sake. It's just trash. But I can't stop writing. If I stop writing, I have to sleep. I don't want to close my eyes. I don't want to die.

My five years has been up now. It's officially midnight. I feel weird. I can practically see the Grim Reaper standing next to my bed, watching me. My arm hurts from writing. My eyes feel heavy. No, my entire body feels heavy. I feel a little dizzy. Other than that, I feel okay. It doesn't hurt any. I can't even see what I'm writing anymore. It's all blurred. If Axel does ever read this, he probably won't be able to make out this part. I can't see anymore. It's getting black. I'm scared, but I refuse to stop writing. I can't stop. This pencil and this paper is all that's keeping me here.

Maybe I'm just getting paranoid. Maybe I'm going to live longer. Maybe I'm just really tired. Maybe this means I'm getting better. Or maybe I am dying. No, I can't be dying. My life isn't flashing before my eyes like everyone says it does. I don't feel like I'm going to die. I'm just tired, that's all.

I won't die. I refuse. I can't die. Not when I've left so much unsaid. So, I'll say it all now.

Hayner- I know you're in the room next to me and I'm sorry for turning up the TV so loud while you're trying to sleep. I should have been a better neighbor, I guess.

Larxene- You shouldn't be allowed to be a nurse. You're too mean. You remind me of a strict teacher I had back in elementary school. Lighten up and make people smile. Don't make them afraid of you.

Zexion- You're a really good doctor. I guess my opinion doesn't really matter, but it's true. You always managed to keep me from freaking out or getting depressed and you took good care of me. Thanks. I mean that.

Aerith- I never really met you, but Axel says you're the lady who works in the gift shop downstairs. I know it's you that puts those flowers by my bed when I'm sleeping and snuck in that big teddy bear. Thanks for that. It really made me smile.

Demyx- I know I only met you once while I was waiting for my surgery, but thanks for playing your guitar for me. I don't know if you're a patient here or if you were just there. But, all the same, I'd like to thank you for that. I like music. Yours was the last I heard. You're really good, too. You should see about joining a band or going professional on your own.

Axel- I saved you for last because I have the most to say to you. I know that you never really got to know me that well, but I got to know you. I really appreciate everything you've done for me and I want to thank you for being my friend. I like all the stories you would tell me. It made me feel like there was more to the world than just this hospital room. You really are great, Axel. I love you. I know, I've never been in love before. I know you're a guy, too. I know you're a little older than me and I know you're nothing more than my nurse. You were my nurse, I mean. I don't know what happened to you. I miss you a lot. I wish you were here right now. You always seemed to calm me down just by being there. I'm scared now, Axel. Everything feels weird. I really need to sleep. I want you here, though. I want you to be sitting right next to me right now, holding my hand like you sometimes do. I want you to tell me that everything is going to be okay. I want you. That's all I ever want, Axel. I know, this seems stupid. I'm ranting, I guess. But I just want you to know, I love you. More than just a friend. I feel weird saying that, but it's the truth, Axel. I love you. But I'm getting too tired now. I can't see the paper and my hand can barely move this pencil anymore. I guess I have to go to bed. But I'll wake up tomorrow morning, I promise. Goodnight, Axel. I love you.


Axel wiped the tears out of his eyes and folded the long, brown, starchy paper towel carefully in half. He slid it into the pocket of his pale green scrubs and looked once more at the empty hospital room. The bed was stripped of sheets, the machines had been rolled out, the curtains were closed, the TV was off, the flowers were cleaned up, and all that was left had been his note. There was nothing in here anymore.

One thirteen in the morning of January eighth. That was when he died.

Axel had begged and pleaded to come see Roxas again. Roxas had been his favorite patient. He was just so kind and calm. But, one day, Axel's boss got angry. He thought a relationship was forming between him and Roxas. He moved Axel to another part of the building and made him so busy that he couldn't stop by.

But not today.

It was noon by now and Axel was on his lunch break. He had come down here to say hello to Roxas and apologize for being gone for the past two weeks. He wanted to talk to him.

But Roxas had died. His body had been transferred to the morgue by two o'clock that morning.

It wasn't fair. A person like Roxas didn't deserve to die.

Axel wanted more time. He wanted to be there with Roxas in his final moments as he had written that letter. He wanted to be there and comfort him. He wanted to tell him it would be okay. He wanted to tell him to sleep well. He wanted to tell him that he would wake up in the morning. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to get to know him better.

He wanted to tell him that he loved him.


Inspired by: Innocent by Our Lady Peace

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