They said it was a strange wish to have...

 

You should pick something else.

 

The cost of it was probably going to run into the thousands...and after all that had happened, no one had any left.

 

So you had agreed to change it into something else, something simpler, trying to think of something was keeping you up on this night...

 

Your head laid back on the pillow, the night creeping closer to the morning, trying to think of something. This was important, and you tried to ignore the beeping and the sounds coming from behind your tightly closed door. A person's voice was always constant; there was no escaping the sounds.

 

One sound that you had always loved was pattering at your window and you let it lift your spirits, glancing out the window. The bright security light shone on the droplets, casting tiny rainbows along the edges. You bit your lip down on the smile, lifting your arm to dance through the light. Turning your head to lay it on the pillow to improve your view, you made no sound. If they knew you were up they'd be mad. Needed to get your sleep and all that.

 

It wasn't going to make a difference. 

 

The shadows of your hands passing through the light rainbows made you think a moment about fleeting things.

 

You had a good life. You could look back and say that now. 

 

It was ending too quickly, but what you had was good. 

 

Sure, you had bad times. Who hadn't? You didn't get your way... a lot. Now, looking back on it, you wished you could change some of it. Only you knew it would still lead you here.

 

...You can't outwit cancer...

 

 

 

 

 

A few days later you had thought of something, something simple that wouldn't cost anyone anything. And you had told your mother, she seemed to agree

with it, even though the tears were still swimming in her eyes.

 

As if you decided on your last wish you to give up. 

 

You had given up a long time ago, but you would never tell her that. She'd never be able to stand it, if she knew you just took it. Years of battling, years of pain and failed attempts had sentenced you to the decision. There was only so much hope you could have for something before you turn your back to it. You could pray and pray for yourself to get better...

 

But it was inoperable. It was deep inside your brain, growing every day. Pressing ever so closer to killing you. Why waste time on something that wasn't going to be fixed? At best you could be made comfortable.

 

Or as comfortable in a hospital as you could be. 

 

You'd rather spend your time hoping for the others here, the ones that had a chance, the stage ones, or the threes. They had a chance to bounce back, they had the chance to live full lives. Some of them were only babies...you had lived a life. A short one, but a life. It wasn't fair for you to take up the hope and the resources that could be used on someone that needed it.

 

You couldn't tell your mother this. So instead you told her your last wish was to throw everyone in the hospital a party. A get well party. 

 

 

Even though you never would.

 

 

 

 

A few weeks later, the plans were almost finished. Everyone was running around putting the final touches on the last minute things. 

 

Well, everyone was running except for you. You were still resigned to your bed, waiting for people to come and give you information on how it was going. You wanted to be there, even wheeling around, but everyone had refused, telling you it was a surprise. You had sighed and nodded, laying still on the bed, watching one of the many, many DVDs your mother had bought you. The hospitals days were long ones, filled with blood drawings, daily medicines, chemo appointments, exams, pep talks.

 

You really preferred to sit back, rest your head on your pillow and watch your favorites on the TV. It was a simple life, your laptop propped up on your extra pillow, typing away to friends from another life. Wiggling your toes in the warm blanket while you still had feeling in them was a wonderful. Music you barely understood was pumping through your blood. Your mother tried to make you change it before, to more uplifting music, but you had cried.

 

Cried for the first time since all of this had happened. Clutching tightly to the CD case you let the cold drops fall from your eyes.

 

Splashing on a face you'd memorized but would never actually see. 

 

The thought saddened you for a moment, but you blinked back the tears swimming in your eyes, which were blurring your screen. It was disheartening, but the sounds of laughter and passing excitement about the party had your ears perking and a smile on your face.

 

People were happy for it.

 

That's what you wanted...

 

 

 

 

The day of the party was here. You were excited. It thrilled you that you could see balloons lining the hallway, the music filtering through your ears. Your mother was standing off to the side of the bed, flipping through a magazine, waiting for eleven on the dot. It was the time of the party you were to be wheeled in, as the special guest, she had recited. It irritated you slightly. You didn't want to be the special guest, you wanted to be the party thrower. 

 

It was almost time. A few moments more, and you could slip into the wheelchair, your best party attire on. Your mom even let you put on a bit of makeup. A local hairdresser had come in earlier and styled your hair, to which your mother had beamed. Surprise! She had told you and it felt nice to be pampered for just a moment, someone fussing over which side of your head should this go, up or down for the back? 

 

Pictures had been taken, an eye roll or two, which still earned you a light smack from mom on the shoulder. You had smiled, a proper smile, and when the flash went off, ignored the exaggerated pain in your eyes. It had been happening a lot more, but pictures were now your mother’s only option.

 

You were not going to take that away from her. Not yet. It wasn't fair. 

 

So you stayed for the pictures, watching the clock count down the seconds before you pushed yourself out. That was after a few tense moments of begging with your mom. She didn't want you to tire yourself. The crowd waiting in the main room erupted into cheers when you came in. The little kids that could broke free of their moms, running up. You accepted their hugs, happy to see some of them had more color and a light dancing in their eyes. 

 

Even if colors were still flashing in yours from the camera flash. You got your glass of juice, and a very small piece of cake, much to your pursed lips. It was still an indulgence and you scarfed it down. The little babies were boogying to the music, the slightly older ones playing with the games. 

 

You were the oldest one there. 

 

Even so, you still had a smile on your face...

 

 

 

After the party you were tired, trying not to slump over your wheelchair, trying not to show your mom you were having trouble standing. She would make you sit, and she said she had one more surprise for you. You really didn't have a clue what she was planning, but she had been on the phone for a very long time.

 

You leaned on it, balancing your hip against it, and she hung up the phone, telling you that you should go to your room for it. You nodded, slipping fully into the seat, and she fixed your hair slightly. You'll want to look nice. She had whispered it, making you even more curious. 

 

When you reached your room, there were three black suited men, all with dark shades on and imposing statures. You edged away from them, and your mother motioned you to the bed, looking up at the men timidly. She nodded and they followed her lead, leaving the room, with not a sound. You were more than confused, what was going on? Was your mom, or you, in trouble? Was the party a bad idea?

 

A few moments later the door eased open and your mother returned, a slight smile on her face. I know you wanted this. She walked to stand behind you, holding your shoulders and facing the door. Come in, please.

 

The door, which had swung closed, opened slightly, then eased open with the whoosh only a hospital door could. 

Another set of black suited men walked in the room, and behind them you caught glimpses of a dark head of hair. They stood there for a moment, surveying the area and then nodded, again. They separated and a properly dressed black haired boy stood there, his hands behind his back, looking out of place.

 

Your heart...

 

...stopped beating.