A Second Chance
The teardrop plopped silently onto her hand. I held my breath, as though waiting for something to happen.
A minute passed. Then two . . . three . . .
I released my breath at four, but nothing had happened. She hadn't even stirred. Sighing, I flopped back against the chair, tears coursing down my cheeks. I didn't bother to wipe them away. The room was a private one, and it was dim where I sat, my back facing the window that overlooked the hallway. The nurse who took care of Karasuma would not be back till the next morning. No one was there to see me cry.
These
tears I cry, I cry for you
You mad me whole and cleared my
view
Your hand I hold, these words I say
Try to bring you back,
to see the day
"Karasuma."
I was surprised to hear my voice; it was so coarse, so choked. I cleared my throat and tried again.
"Karasuma." I whispered hoarsely. "I know . . . I know you can't . . . can't hear me . . . and even . . . even if you could . . . you . . . wouldn't . . . be able . . . to . . . to let me know."
I hesitated, not knowing how to put my intentions to words. Faintly, in the back ground, I could hear the regular beep . . . beep . . . of the pulse machine.
"I . . . I've always . . . thought of you . . . as . . . as a friend . . . But . . . but now . . ." I stopped, tucking my legs close to my chest. Wrapping my arms round them, I buried my face into my knees and shut out the world, drowned in a wave of sobs.