*Laying in a hospital bed, I could recall the countless visits from before, The smell of the cheap fabric blankets, the stale like pillows behind my head and back, and the infernal beeping of the machine, how I wished just to rip out that needle, it annoyed me so. I know I must have been here for sometime, but I can't remember... And I have a feeling, It feels so weird, Like knowing. A window to my right and kitty corny from my bed, I look out it, it's snowing, and just as I fall asleep once more from the amount of anastetics, someone comes into my room, "Jet! Oh my god jet!" This startles me so much, I open my eyes wide immediately, because of their wailing it sounds as if... "Oh my god... " I know they took my hand, Because I can see them holding it, as they sob into it and moisten my oddly flexable hand. I stare, bedazzled at the sense of not feeling it, I'm starting to get really scared by now, (What's going on..?) I wonder, but just as that, that person is gone, I can't remember who they are.. the face... it's all so.... Weird. Nights go by, feeling like minutes, of people pooring in and screaming their prayers at me, or recollecting good times that I can't seem to recall ever happened. Bewildered I feel so tired all the sudden, as the potential last person leaves my room, the long latch metal door clicking lightly behind them. Beep... Beep........ Beep... Beep... That machine, it's so annoying. I turn over to look out at the window, and I see someone! I Gasp, unable to recollect my thoughts of the sight! I close my eyes tightly and try to wiggle the blanket up to cover my face and take away the sight, but I am too week, my arms.. Why are't they working!? I start to cry.... Then again, It's a boy, A boy in my room out of nowhere, Am I hallucinating? Somehow I know this is not a hallucination.... I don't know why, but I suddenly feel sick to stomache... He smiles, and he's gone and then reappears once more! I feel so cold when he's around. I'm so scared, I don't know why, he doesn't look so menancing. Wearing a little brown fleese jacket over his, johnny, and a little blue scarf around his neck, his face is so pale, and his dark brown hair matted and thin... around his eyes, dark circles, like he hasn't slept in a year. I quiver as he sits on my bed.
Visits like these become comfortable over the next few nights, I start to enjoy his company, I don't know why, even though there is never any conversation, it feels as if I've known him before, thus spiking my interest and piviting me to know more about him. Daylight, I never thought to see another daylight, since they never open my blinds in my room, it's always dark. The sudden new life giving light hurts my eyes , blinding me just as another person dashes into my room like a storm. Sobbing crying, moaning their why's, this time.... I feel like... I'm happy. I'm not sad anymore. The boy, surprisingly sitting at my feet, since he never appears during the day hours, smiles at me, and finally I ask, building all my strength "Please?" I don't know why I said please, and yet in the back of my head.... I kinda new. He nods.. and answers to me "Tomorrow." I feel so happy, never been so happy as this, it's like a relief taking off my chest, I can breathe now... it's so wonderful, I feel so warm, I just want to feel like this for the rest of my life, for the first time, tears of joy, as I lay smiling off through the window.
Tomorrow comes, and the little boy is here, but this time, instead of one on one, a dozzen or more people have entered my room. I'm a bit hesitant why, feeling bashful that I think my blanket has pulled over my hip or something. and my bareness is showing. They all stand in a circle around me. I tilt my head confused just as I spot the little boy, he smiles, and I ask him quitely, for I don 't want anyone to hear me. By now the beeping has stopped, I think they turned the machine off and are going to take me home finally, I feel overjoyed, I just want to get out of here. But then... they all turn around, and leave the room. "Oh my god, Am I to be left here forever?" I start to scare myself with bad thoughts of having to eat bad jello the rest of my life. My throat seems clenched as I hoursely whisper (What's happening?) He smiles his little smile at me, so innocent, as he leans over the bed end, and replies, "You died of lung cancer."