“Hey.”

“What?” I was obviously too annoyed to start a conversation in the middle of the night.

“What's up with your little friend?” 

“Not much time left, I think.”  I impatiently put down my book and tried to reach out for my iPod.

“Hey, come on. Talk to me. I’m bored.” The voice begged. It was a guy who was around 30. 

He kicked his bucket saving a girl from a fire. He was an ordinary dude who worked nine to five and did not get to marry his girl ‘cause he could not save enough money for a flat in time.

But he didn’t regret a single bit for giving his life in exchange for another.

“What to talk about? You have told me most of your story in the past two days, so have I.” I glared at the corner of my room, where the voice was coming from.

“I feel bad for you, you know?” 

“So?” I was just struggling to decide whether I should continue reading or turn to my iPod which was sitting on my nightstand.

“Do you know that I just found out another guy is after my girlfriend right after I died ? Do you know that I actually hope she can move on and accept him? I still hope she can find her happiness, even if it is not with me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I knew the answer but I wanted to hear what he got in store.

“Your friend, or, your crush. She would think the same.”

“Stop reminding me she is dying.” I threw a soft punch on my pillow.

“I wanna help you, girl. I can tell you’re sad.” He sighed.

“I hate life.” I sighed heavier.

“Just wanna make sure you’d be fine after she…. Yeah, anyway I’m out. You take care, okay?”

“Sure. Bye.”

I looked at the clock on my wall. It was late in the evening. Yet, I packed my stuff and headed out. 

That night Irene had serious breathing problem due to a complication. I was glad that I decided to go and see her even when I already did earlier that day.

I found her curling on the bed. Hyperventilating. Twitching. I panicked and cried. I cried for help. I brought her close to my body trying stop her from her twitch. I felt her pain as she dug her nails on my back, through my clothes. I whispered to her ears assuring her and telling her to ease down. That 2 minutes or so felt like 10 hours. Another 60 minutes passed to stabilize her condition. I looked at my wrinkled zip-up hoodie and sobbed hard by myself.

I knew I was stupid. I knew it was just the beginning of the end. I knew I loved her so much.

“Hey.” Irene managed to squeeze these words out from . Her eyes closed, brows frowned. Which honestly haunts me even today.

She looked as pale as the bed sheet. As fragile as a snowflake on the window, as an autumn leaf on the street.

“How’re you holding up?” I could hear my voice trembling.

“Still breathing, so still alive.” Irene tilted her head and looked at me.

“I ….. I thought I was losing you there.” I bit my lower lip.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“You’re welcome.” I smiled to her. And she weakly ree.

-

Ever since I had to use that little machine to regulate my breathing, Wendy came everyday from sunrise to sunset.

After she had left at her regular visiting hours that day, I sneaked out. I did not know why but my instinct drove me.

I regretted my decision immediately as people started giving me their weird looks. Still, I went where my foot led me. I stopped at a bookstore. I did not know I like books that much until then. I went in and took a good look. 

My eyes were glued to a book called “Tuesdays with Morrie”, written by Mitch Albom. I had read this as a teaching material in high school for English. The whole book was about a dying old dude talking about life with a young dude. And it ended with the old dude finally died.

I could still recall a quote, “Love each other or perish.”

Maybe I would perish soon since I had not loved someone, nor I had the right or chance to love someone.

How could a girl like me love another person and hope that they would love her back? 

Perhaps it was not just wishful thinking - it was happening. But I was too scared to confirm. I could not say anything.

I had spaced out for a while before I made up my mind and bought a notebook instead. Then, I headed back to the hospital and realized how far I had gone. The weather was chilly.  My legs went a bit numb from walking.

I freaking sneezed. I knew it wasn’t a good sign. Considering my little “condition”. I stumbled back and tried to spill my thoughts on my newly-acquired notebook.

Writing was good. How could I had never thought of that. It was a replacement for the words I didn’t say. I felt both good and bad after that.

I lied on my bed and my lungs began to hurt. I coughed and panted. I lost control of my body.

Then someone wrapped me into her arms.

Then I knew I was safe. With her warmth and her voice.

I soon passed out.

And she was the very first thing I saw after I opened my eyes again.

I was happy.

-

I did not know what to say anymore so I looked around. I scanned the whole room and my eyes were drawan to an unfamiliar-looking notebook on her desk. There was a pen next to it. It was not even lidded properly.

“You went out?” 

“Hm.” She hummed softly.

“What for? You could've asked me to bring stuff for you.”

“I don’t know.”

“You went out just to buy hat?”

“Yeah..”

“You wanna write something? Why didn’t you tell me? I could've brought 10 notebooks with different colors without you risking your life! You should've told me! I am scared. I am freaking scared now, Irene.”

I got agitated and I was not proud of how short-tempered I had become. I shouted to her. I shouted at a patient who was laying peacefully on her bed and listened attentively to my babbling.

I did not mean to. 

“There’re a lot of things I didn’t tell you.” She took a quick glance at me when I began to quiet down.

I hanged my head low and let my brain slowly processed her words. It took me seconds to say, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” She tittered.

“You don’t need to say sorry to me. You don’t need to apologize for anything. The world has owned you too much.” 

“You don’t own me anything so you don’t have to apologize to me.” Her tittering turned into a smile. I wondered how on earth she could still smile. But I couldn’t help but smiled along.

I chuckled, “Don’t go out alone next time.”

“I don’t think I can go out that easily next time.” Her smile faded a little.

“Hey you,” I scooted closer to her. “Don’t give up, okay?”

“Okay.” She made an okay sign.

“And I think I should stay here longer from now on.” I tried my best to keep maintain that smile on my face.  

“Okay.” She smiled, flashing me her pearly whites.

She looked cute. It stuck me every damn time.

“Now you sleep. I'll see you again when the sun comes up.” I made a pinky promise with her.

She was just like an innocent kid.  A kid who I wanted to protect so badly.

-

I saw Wendy hurried out from the asylum before dawn and came back at almost 8.

She seemed tired but her eyes glistened with a spark. It was weird. I could not read her mind from her face.

“Where've you been? You didn’t even read my texts.” I asked her while she was walking down the corridor.

“Oh, hey, doc. Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She fixed her messy hair-bun.

“I just asked you a question, girl.”

“Irene.” She continued her walk to her room as I shadowed her closely.

“I thought you had already visited her today.” I tried hard to keep up with her pace.

“I didn’t know why I went there twice but luckily I did. She had a complication today.” 

“Why? Isn’t she under some close monitoring?”

“She sneaked out.”  Wendy chuckled as she spoke.

Which was really weird since she was stating such facts.

“And?” I kept on asking.

“She went out to buy a notebook.”

“Alright, I am officially lost.” 

“Whatever.” She threw herself on the bed. 

It must be something between them.

It’d better for me not to ask.

“So what happened to her complication?” I folded my arms.

“She must have caught a cold.” She buried her face in her pillow, hiding her smile this time.

This kid, she seemed really in love. 

“The last time I checked, she is older than you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Yeah, 'cause I'm an old man. Anyway, take care of her.” I smiled in defeat and ruffled her hair.

“I will.” She flashed her signature bight smile to reassure me.

“Take care of yourself too. Goodnight.” I patted her head.

“Roger that. Night.” Wendy was a special girl. 

Her bright personality was like a disease. It was contagious.

So that’s maybe why she was born to have that ability and to meet Irene.

She was an angel. She took away pain and brought happiness to people. 

At least for me and for Irene, she is.