“I’m guessing my act didn’t work?”
“You’re alive! You’re awake! I’ll call your mom yah!”
“No pril!” *cough* “udah ga usah” *gasp* “I wanna talk to you.” His bright eyes dimmed with too much medicine. His toned skin pale, white as paper. His body layed stiffly on the bed.
“I knew it! You’ll live! I knew it!”
“Hah Pril. Like you never read The Fault In Our Stars***.”
“Don’t talk like that. Have hope. Many people need you.”
“Well you gotta learn how to live without me.”
“Don’t you dare talk like that again.”
“Are you threatning an almost dead person?” Prilly inched closer to him and sobbed.
“I’m tired Pril.”
“I don’t wanna live tomorrow without you.”
“Njir Pril. Alay. Please. You gotta understand.” *deep breath* “I’m tired. I’m not getting any better. Even if I get into surgery. The doctors stich up my heart, my lungs fail to function. My lungs starts working, my kidneys need pumping every week. And now a weekly hospital stay is needed, a monthly surgery is a necessity. I am tired. And I’m ready.”
He panted. How he got that many words out she doesn’t understand. He panted until she helped him put his oxygen mask on.
“Please stop talking like that. You are not and never will be a burden to me. Remember your story? We’d get married and watch our grandchildren side by side? Remember?!”
“Do you love me Pril?” He asked exhaustedly.
“Promise me one thing. Promise me this down to your grave.”
“Forget about me. All our stories never happen.”
“Pretending won’t change the fact.”
“I not asking you to pretend. Enough of this. For the hundredth time. I’m tired. Tell me stories Pril.”
And so Prilly did. By his bed side holding his hand. Tears streaming down her face a she told stories of better days.
His eyes slowly shut into slumber. Her stories became prayers, her cries became screams. The constant up and down on the monitor turns to a never ending line. Yet through all the noise, his eyes stays firmly shut.
***Tfios reference is talking about that last good day before someone’s death.
A very television-y death.
tam here, adios