October 5th.
DNR. That's the name of the next document you were recommended to sign. That way when your heart had finally stopped, they wouldn't have to injure you to bring you back. Most likely it wouldn't have worked anyway. You signed it so we wouldn't have to hold our breath and hope for a miracle when it happened. You were a very sick child making decisions to best serve those around you. You were a saint hon, a saint.
October 10th. Dear Rikku,
On this day you were struggling to stay conscious. We all sat by your side as you fought to keep your eyes open. You told us not to cry despite your own tears, that you loved us all so much, and that you'd be waiting for us in the farplane. You hugged each of us so tightly with a strength surprising for your condition, or maybe you'd been saving your strength to say goodbye.
The little girl's parents came in later to tell you that the girl's surgery had been a success thanks to you. You gave them a small smile. Told them you were glad she was ok. Soon after you slipped into semi-consciousness and the doctors hooked you up to the life support system. Your hand never left the locket around your neck.
October 13th. Dear Rikku,
Preparations for the wedding are near complete. Vidina makes a darling little ring bearer. His curly orange hair is long like his father's now, but not in such a horrible hair style. Tidus and I are both as nervous as can be, but really happy, too. My hut is somewhat emptier now that the process of moving my stuff to Tidus' has begun. In just a few short months we'll be married and starting a whole new life together. It really is a beautiful thing.