Ok, guys, here's my second one-shot. I hope you like it and comments would be nice :-) Oh and btw, this actually does have a bit of a religious reference...just in case you don't get that :-)
Two old friends were alone for once in the solitude of a cold, white, and overly clean room. One bright and joyous boy took the liberty of seating himself upon a chair beside the bed containing a weak girl in obvious pain. The dark-haired rock star held his friend's hand earnestly in comfort, knowing that the sickness overtaking her body was a pain that he'd never experience. He glanced over at her troubled face; what once looked so full of life was sunken in. Her skin a pallid white, her dirty-blonde curls a ragged mess, and half-shut eyes a dull teal. The illness took a toll on her appearance in drastic measures as well as her will to carry on.
“Mary,” began Joe as he reached over to push some of her limp hair from her eyes. “What do you think about maybe going on a picnic next week? Just you and me…like old times. Do you think you’d be allowed?”
“I don’t know…” she trailed off vaguely, glancing upward, as though inspecting the speckled hospital ceiling. “I’d have to check with my Father.”
“Okay, well you can just let me know,” His strong hand tightened on her weak one. “And do you know what would be so fun?! We could take turns spinning on that thing at the park until we puke! Remember that, Mare? Remember how much fun we had?” his sparkling, excited eyes met her tired, listless ones. Quickly, she broke his gaze and turned it yet again upon the pure, sanitized white of the ceiling.
“Mmm… I’ll ask my Father.”
“Oh good, then it should be no problem at all. I know he’ll say you can,” suddenly, a mask seemed to fall from his eager face. Underneath the mask revealed an endless void of sadness. “He has to say you can,” he whispered, almost to himself. Then, his façade returned as quickly as it had gone, and he again regained his jovial demeanor.
“Do you remember when we walked across those railroad tracks for hours, imagining we were in some old movie, and could be tied to it at any minute by a masked villain? We should try that again, only this time, lets bring some water. I was so parched by the time we left!”
“Yeah, sounds great, Danger. You always had the best ideas.” Her tear-filled eyes glanced away from her old friend’s denial-etched face, as though shutting out the blind hope that lay there. “I’ll just double check with my Father first.”
“Ok, awesome. Sweet. I can just see it now, the perfect day with my best friend,” he grinned, his special glowing smile he reserved only for her. His best friend ever. She wasn’t looking, though.
“Yea…great,” she murmured. Eyes closed, she continued to tilt her head towards the ceiling. “I’ll…ask,” her words were becoming ragged and hoarse, as though every syllable was like lifting a heavy weight with the pressure on her chest.
“Oh I can hardly wait till he answers!” Joe’s voice neared hysterics. “I just know he’ll say yes, he knows how much we love our “Best Friend Picnics”; how much fun we have together,” his voice cracked as tears began to course down his face. “He knows how much I l-love you…how we’re like s-siblings.” Mary, however, made no movements; didn’t acknowledge her friend’s breakdown. Struggling to breathe, she made one last successful attempt at gaining a burst of newfound strength to fix her eyes on Joe’s.
"Joe…" she inhaled once more for air, "you do know that, eventually…I'm going to die…no alternative." Pain seemed to course through her body and she flinched again. "But…He." she paused. "He should allow it, even for only a minute…He should... just for you."
All around us, machines began shouting in frenzied, piercing beeps, nearly masking Joe’s frantic cries. “Mary, Mary, come back, tell me! What did he say? What did our Father say?!” he rested his head against her stomach, sobs racking his body as medical personnel rushed through the room, each attacking a different machine, trying to fix the problem. But somehow he knew their attempts were pointless.
He knew, he knew, because his warm, crushing hand was gripped around a lifeless shell of flesh and bone, which, up until now was his best friend, growing cooler with each passing moment.
