I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel nervously as I pulled up to the hospital. It was November now, three months after it happened, and I was still unable to get over that day. This place didn't help. My stomach started to hurt as I walked up to the doors. I was doing this for Angel. I realized she had watched me have a happy ending while she had to stay and suffer for months. I walked up the stairs, remembering where our room was perfectly. 38. 39. 40. Yes. I opened the door slowly, cautiously.

"Angel?" I called quietly. I walked in. No one was there. The bed was made perfectly, white sheets, clean pillow cases, everything done up as if no one had been there ever. Confusion clouded my mind. Maybe she wasn't in the ward anymore. Maybe she got her own room? I stopped a nurse in the hallway.

"Uh, do you know what room Angel Crafter is in?" I questioned her. She shrugged and led me down the hall to a computer. She typed in her name and clicked 'enter' her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the screen. Her face quickly turned from confusion to sorrow.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked, panicked. She turned around hesitantly.

"I'm sorry, but your friend has..."

"Has what?" I said, even though I already knew. I choked back tears as she said the word. The word that seemed to be trying to enter my mind these past few months, with Patricia being so hurt and me having so many surgeries. Death. I never thought directly about it until now, the girl I'd known for no more than two days had experienced it.

"No." I said. I walked away. I walked down the stairs and out of the doors. I ran to my car and jammed my key into the ignition. With hot tears staining my face, I drove away, my head screaming 'NO!' I didn't know why I cared so much about her. I guess because she was so innocent. And I had been so selfish, to even begin to realize how much more she'd gone through. I pounded my fist on the wheel. I had stood by while she was dying, and some how, it was my fault. I slammed the door shut and stomped into my dorm, where Patricia was waiting.

"What's wrong?" She asked, seeing my tears.

"She's dead." I shouted. Patricia recoiled in hurt that I screamed at her.

"I'm sorry, Trix. She was just, a friend."

"I know." She limped over to me. "She kept you good company, didn't she."

"But...I didn't even get to say good bye. They just...pushed her out of the way. And then they forgot her, like she had never been alive in the first place. Oh. She died with no one to say good bye to her. No one to say 'I love you'." I sniffled.

"It's a sad thought," replied Patricia. "But think. She's probably in paradise right now, peering down at us and wishing you weren't so unhappy." Patricia reassured me. I looked up at her and realized she was right. I hugged her.

"I'm so glad we made it through this mess," I said.

"Me too," she replied.

"I love you."

"I love you a million times more."

THE END