This story is not mine and I already ask permission to post this! Please see her website @ http://wattpad.com/HaveYouSeenThisGirL - written by HaveYouSeenThisGirL

 Note: Mianhe everyone! I mispelled Sanghyun to Seunghyun.

It should be Thunder! Dara's little brother.

Eight Signature

I was woken up by someone knocking at the door. I open my eyes and wonder, "Why am I in this white room?"

Then the person who knocked at the door came in. It was my boyfriend; he smiles weakly at me as he waves his hand and greets me in his way, "Hi, gorgeous. I see you're awake already."

"I was sleeping until you knocked and disturbed my slumber."

He walks to me and sits on the free space of my bed then he brushes loose strands of my hair in my face with his fingers and puts it in place at the back of my ear, "I prefer disturbing your sleep rather than you, never waking up."

I can hear footsteps from the outside breaking the silence around, suddenly I heard a cry of a child as well. On second thought there wasn't any silence in the first place, if I listen more carefully, the outside is actually noisy. Aside from the footsteps that go back and forth and the cry of a child, I can also hear some people coughing and uttering unintelligible words and there are also phones beeping and ringing one after another.

"Why am I here?" I look at him straight in the eyes somewhat accusing. Funny, I am in a place I said I would never stay even if I die --- the hospital.

Irritating as I've always thought, the drab white color of the hospital walls never fail to throw a bucket of cold water over my spirit. Instead of feeling well, I feel like having nausea anytime due to that unpleasant smell stereotype hospitals have --- is it from some kind of medication, or is it from all that bleach?

"We didn't really want to take you here without your concern but 3 days ago, you just collapsed after vomiting blood and after several trials of waking you up, but to no avail, we started to panic.  I called my dad to check on you and he said, you need proper medication that could only be given in the hospital and that explains why you're here. You were unconscious for 3 days, I thought you won't wake up anymore. I'm glad to see you awake again, you scared the hell out of me Dara."

"Really," I utter without confidence and look around me, four corners dictating how trapped you are in life, a table beside me with fruits untouched and fresh flowers that ought to die the next day and be replaced with another that will repeat the cycle.  There's also a television at the upper left corner of the room, not so modern in its box shape, I bet it lacks good channels. Beside the television, there is a wall clock that has the small hand pointing to ten and the longer hand to seven or maybe eight?

I turn at my left side to see the open window few meters away from me, from the outside the cold and piercing air blows the pale turquoise curtains that is the same color with my bed sheet.

"Are you cold? Do you want me to close the window?" my boyfriend might have notice my shivers so he stood up to close the window as I nod to him. I shiver not because I'm really feeling cold but I'm quite terrified that maybe one day the wind will take me away as I just become a part of the unseen, untouchable and forgotten.

"How bad is it?" I asked him while he closes the window, he turns around not understanding my question.

"How bad is what?"

"You know," I smile at him, encouraging him to tell me, "My condition."

"Oh," he turns his back to me this time maybe looking outside from the window, "Fine. Yeah, you're fine."

I laugh weakly, sounding almost forced and stupid. I knew it, when he says fine... it's not. That's the most comprehensible lie when someone's sick, "You think I'm going to buy that? Tell me the truth."

"Truth?" he repeats the last word I said, turns to me and look at me straight in the eyes. He paused for a while adding an unpleasant tension in the room, I pleaded silently looking in his uncertain eyes. After a while, glistening tears form in his eyes and hover for a moment before they fell wetly upon his cheek. His tear explained me everything even without saying anything.

"I understand."

I understand, I understand, I understand.

Why are we even worrying for the worst, haven't we been there a lot of times?

From the moment I got sick, there was never any hope but only miracles to save me... But what does miracle really means?

"Dara," his voice seemed caught in his throat as he struggles to form the words, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

I call the name of this guy in front of me crying like a mere child lost in the city, extend him my arms and asked him to come to me. He obediently did and as my arms reached him, I gently placed my hand on his back and the other hand brushing his black hair. A big guy crying in my arms, crying for me not caring how unmanly he might look in front of the girl he loves. I whisper to his ears, "What are you sorry for? It’s not as if the entire world, and all of its beauty, had come to an end."

As we sat and cry here on my hospital bed, a thought came into mind... how many people used this bed and cried for death? I wonder what the hospital staff thinks every time they change bed sheets and washes it, just how many tears poured down on this bed... just how many tears have been washed away? If I die here in this same bed, in this same bed sheet, how painful could it be for the person that cares for me to see the bed sheet being removed in this bed? Simple changing of bed sheet can mean nothing to a lot but in this world, in this moment, 1 out of 1billion might be crying because as he says goodbye to a bed sheet he says goodbye to someone too.

When my boyfriend calmed down, I decided to ask him, "Did you bring my contract with you?"

Because I did not expect that I would collapse suddenly and be brought to the hospital afterwards, I left the paper of signatures in my house, in my room to be specific. He shook his head, "Nope, why? Is it my turn to sign?"

"Do me a favor. After your today's visit, before heading home can you please pass by my house and get the contract in the drawer next to my bed and bring it tomorrow morning to me? You can sign it too as soon as you get it on hand, you may peek if you want but it will always be our secret ok?"

"Is this your last favor?"

"Not really," because my last favor to him would be to move on with life without me when I leave this not circle world and to love find another girl to love, to take care of, to marry someday and create a healthy and happy family with her. I would want to be that girl but I know I'll never be, the greatest feeling in this world is to love and be loved back in return but that could also be the most painful feeling when you are loving someone and that someone loves you back but something called "death" separates you from one another. The love for each other or the person fades, either ways, it’s a sad ending.

My boyfriend is the owner of the 8th signature I want to bargain with God, I had listed 10 names in that contract which means 2 more signatures to go. Will this bargaining thing really work? I hope these signatures will not go to waste...

God, can you hear me?

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