• My friend, you lay on that bed, with your eyes shut. You seem so peaceful, like you're asleep. But the wires, oh, the WIRES! They run along your frail body, and remind me of the truth. Your arms, adorned with shiny needles, stick out in places, the skin tight over your bones. Blueish bruises under your eyes, that I can now see, tell me of your insomnia. I thought you would be okay, that it would heal. But the doctors didn't see, that small detail, that let the sickness creep into your lungs.
    Now, you lay here, coughing violently into your red hand. The tubes in your nose that force your lungs to breath. Your head seems so heavy, the way you hold it. Shamefully bowed, not wanting to meet my eyes. And I know why. I caught you, in the bathroom, with a beer bottle in one hand and a lighted cigarette in the other. I hope you don't hate me. I hope you will see that I did it for you, to help you. Because, I think I love you, and I hate to see you slowly wither away into nothing. "You look like hell, dude, you really do." I sigh, stroking your pale face. Your eyes, once glimmering with a rebellious spark, have dimmed. I can't even see you in them anymore. Where have you gone?
    The stupid doctor barrel-a$$es his way in. He tells me to leave, but I scream and holler until he lets me stay. He checks your pulse, and seems like he doesn't know what else to do. I understand why he wanted me out of the room. He wanted to kill you. Kill you? I won't let him. Never, you aren't going to give up. I won't let you. I'll stay up all night if I need to. And I will. "I won't eat, unless you eat, you hear me! I'm not going to breath unless you breath. I'm not going to live unless you live! So breath, eat, and survive. You will, I know you will. You have to. Think about Jasmine, would she want you to end your life when you're so young?" I played that card, the last desperate card, and you start to cry. I've seen you cry once before, when your father left you, when you were three. I don't remember any other time. You are a silent crier, holding in your pain. But, it'll break you. It has before.
    I hate her, Taylor. She started this, sending you down... That ugly rumor, that was the last straw, wasn't it. She exploited your weaknesses. You opened up, and let her in, but she pushed you down and away. Grinding you under her black stilettos. Unrequited love. We both feel it. You with Taylor, and I with you. Your bad luck has to end, you will be okay. You will be fine. I know you will. You are you, and that can't won't change. You will pull through. "You'll be okay." My words seem hollow and painful.
    "What makes you so sure?" You ask me, between your coughs, hunched over and gripping your chest in pain. "Why are you so sure?" You look me in the eye, then cough, and fall back, screaming in pain. Your hand, tight around mine, crushes it even harder, and I fight the urge to scream with you. I have to stay strong, for you.
    But, still, tears well in my eyes. Maybe, you won't make it. Maybe it's all for nothing. A single tear glistens on my cheek.