Untamed Fate

Dead!

"But... SHE CAN'T BE DEAD," my hand hovered near my throat, and tears blurred my vision. "She's too young." I flew up the stairs to her hospital room, and jerked to a sudden halt once I saw her bed, her EMPTY bed. I felt my face whiten and drain, and my chest became an empty chamber echoing with tiny beats. A combination of shock and pity numbed my feet, my brain, and even my eyes. Gone was the Amazon fighting girl. Only a child after all; a helpless child. Gone was the friend who used to sooth my pain in spite of her own suffering and torment. I moved around, catching sight of her surgical mask, her Styrofoam bowl, her white bandanna, and her medicine that used to tire her out.

All night I have sat in a corner in her room, my rejection hissing within my soul. Why should somebody so young and so loved die, while so many who were useless lived on and on? Fate was a harsh, blind, and cruel reaper with little respect for who was loved and needed.

When the dawn came, I stood up, touched her bandanna, patted her pillow, and put a rose on her bed, with my heart carrying a promise to a memory: "Dear friend, I am so much in love with life that I can't let go. Not yet. Not without a fight."