What I’m Wishing For

I’m rushed to the hospital again. The reason? As usual- my weak heart. I don’t know how my heart became this weak because I’m so enthusiastic and active in my school, community and even in our own house. My parents told me it was because of my mother’s weak immune system while she’s still pregnant of me. Yet, I don’t believe that explanation because at the back of my mind is the theory that I’m neglected by the world. That’s the reason why I usually hate people I don’t know that much.

I can still remember the first time I was admitted to the hospital. My parents really get worried about me. I was still nine at that time. They prayed that I’ll be healed but, instead, as the years gone by, the illness just get worse.

The hospital is silent now. I know for the fact that it’s already past mid-night. I’m not afraid but I’m scared that if I close my eyes and try to sleep I may no longer have the opportunity to smell the morning dew, freeze in the morning chill nor see the King of Lights ascend in its throne. I’m scared not to experience these things anymore.

I can feel something hurts in my wrist. Oh! It’s the nurse. I was able to sleep for the rest of the night. She’s getting a vial of my blood. Despite the ache the needle’s providing me, I still afford to smile for I as able to wake up again.

It was past noon already. I just let the time pass by writing in my notebook. I was about to finish what I’m writing when a guy suddenly open the door. I looked at him in the eye and I know he’s looking back at me. There was ultimate silence. The deafening silence just ended when he intentionally cough maybe to minimize his shameful interaction. I smile at him and he apologizes for his abeyance while his eyes roam around the cubicle. I just ignore him and continue what I’m writing in my journal when he approaches me. I was shocked but I’m not nervous. He asks me what I’m writing. I tell him it was about my life. He asks few questions more and I enthusiastically answer those. Being with him for that spare time just let me forget my critical situation. He makes me feel alive.

From that day on, he always visit me. We had tea for some time and for some other time he brought me fruits. My parents are so grateful of him for he gives me hope- hope and life. Everyday with him is extraordinary. Whenever his around, my boredom turns into an animated scenario.

After my three-month stay in the hospital I was brought home. But his friendship and care doesn’t end there. He still visits me at our place. Because of his gentle touches, his roaring laughers, his caress and sweetness I fell in love with him. But I won’t tell. I won’t ruin our friendship. I won’t risk my closeness with him and I won’t sacrifice the hope and life he’s giving me.

After a month in our house, my heart starts to palpitate again. I was rushed to the hospital once more. This time, it’s the worst. My heart won’t make it to the next 36 hours. It will stop beating. I’m lying in the ambulance and I can hear my parents’ agony. I can hear the beat of my heart and it’s the loudest of all the sounds I can hear. I want to open my eyes but they’re too blurry and misty to present a clear picture.

I was about to totally lose my consciousness when I hear his voice. It was so clear I can hear every word he says. He was talking to somebody –maybe the doctor- that I need a heart transplant and a demand of a donor is very vital at that time. But the time won’t allow us to have a sufficient search. He said that if the doctors won’t look for a heart donor then he will do it on his own.

Every tic-tac of the clock is worth a teardrop from my parents’ eyes. No beam of light is perceived at the end of the tunnel- no hope to expect yet.

Five hours more and it’ll be over, I’ll die. My mother fainted and my father panics and become so unaware of what is happening, He was so nervous he no longer knows what to do. Everything is at its worst when a nurse dashes to the room and say, “We found a donor!” Everything turned out to be functioning again. The doctors and the nurses, they’re preparing for a major operation. The operation lasted for five hours but everything went just fine. All I need was a long rest for recovery.

After my fifteen hours, or so, of sleep, I regain my awareness. I can hear the birds’ chirps. I can feel the chill in the morning bliss. I open my eyes and see my parents lit up. The operation was successful. After a month, I was able to go home.

Despite the happiness I’m feeling for my second life I can still feel emptiness inside. He no longer visits me and I miss him a lot. I ask my parents where is he. Instead of answering my question they just hand me a letter. It said:

Theryn,

I really want to see you after your operation yet I’m so desperate of finding you a donor. I decided to run away instead. I run away. The idea just dwelled into my mind and it was great! I know that if you’ll be reading this letter the operation’s successful and I’m so happy if that is so. I want to say my last goodbye and I have a surprise for you- as a peace-offering for my lost:

“I GIVE YOU MY HEART FOR YOU TO SEE MY LOVE”

My distance brought me even closer to you. Take care.

With hugs and kisses,

Zed

_wYchazeL