This is one of my favorites!
11/13/19

The first time he saw her he was 9. She had poked her small head inside the door, only clutching the frame with pale, bony fingers. She peered around the room passing over the bland walls, broken television hanging off the wall, and the ridged curves in the ceiling that allowed the dirty curtain to wrap around his hospital bed. Her electric blue eyes lingered on the oxygen tank that sat next to him and the white bathroom that had never been used during his stay.

A gust of wind from the open window blew the curtains up, sending the paper airplane he made earlier into the air. It departed from the brown square table, avoiding the plastic vase of fake flowers and took a couple of turns with a few flips before landing gently in the girl's black hair. She gently plucked it off of her head and took short steps into the room. She hesitated, playing with the handmade toy, not meeting his eyes.

"You can have it," his high pitched voice unwillingly squeaked.

She smiled at him and he swear he's never seen anything in his life more beautiful. He finally saw her full face which was decorated with small freckles under her eyes and a small button nose. Her smile was pure white, the front two a little larger giving her buck teeth. Suddenly she was right in front of him, shutting his mouth with a thin pointer finger.

"Don't waste your breath," she whispered.

He could hear bells ringing in her voice. He wanted her to talk again. The sound of rapid footsteps echoed outside of her door. She turned around, spotting the shadows under the door that grew bigger every second. The girl leaned back, giving him a small smile, then suddenly disappearing before his eyes.

The door burst open, the room filling with frantic nurses and doctors. He tried to open his mouth, but he couldn't. His jaw was burning, starting from where the girl closed his mouth. The feeling spread, his body tingling. He fell back onto the bed, unable to move while the people in white grabbed his body and tossed it on the mattress with wheels. They hurriedly detached the oxygen tank and started running the gurney out of the room.

"She was here, we have to move!" His doctor shouted.

Maybe he was hallucinating, but swore he could see her floating above him as they wheeled him down the hallway. He blinked a couple times, each time it was harder to open his eyes and the lights seemed to dim. He faintly heard a bang as the surgery doors made slight dents in the wall. The last thing he saw of her was a wave from her bony fingers as a new oxygen mask was placed over his immobile head.

Three years later, he stood in front of the same hospital bathroom mirror he's stood in front of for the past few years. He was skinnier than the average 13-year-old should be. He was too skinny, but that would be the result of his condition. The reason his skin was almost translucent, why his dark chocolate hair was thin and bald in some spots, why his eyes were slowly losing that green sparkle they had before he was diagnosed. The only thing he had going for him was his height, so instead of looking like a starved marshmallow he looked like casper the ghost crossed with a scarecrow.

He sighed and turned away from his reflection. Disappointment was the emotion that visited him the most often. The feeling rented a place in his head and never left. He got dressed and exited the cold chamber making his way back to the main room that gets lonelier with every passing day.

"Luke," a bell like voice declared, "your name is Luke."

He froze in his journey to the scratchy sheets of sleep. He raised his head and inevitably found the girl standing at the end of his bed studying the chart that the medical people tampered with. Her skin was more fair then he remembered and her hair was darker than night. Her eyes seemed to glow more more intensely as she made eye contact with him, glueing his feet in place and stopping his breath. She had grown older since their last encounter, probably the same age as him, maybe a year or two older.

He coughed harshly, ruining the moment. He brought his hand up to his mouth to avoid spewing his guts on the beautiful girl. When he finished coughing, he discovered a sticky red coating encasing his hand. He felt himself pale more.

"Are you okay?" The bell like voice chimed again.

Luke hurriedly hid his hand, wiping it on the back of his clothes.

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely.

She nodded at him. "You have leukemia," she said.

He got defensive. "Yeah, I know. Thanks for pointing it out," he said.

Her blunt attitude was starting to annoy him. Everything was on the chart, she didn't need to repeat it.

"How much time do you have left?" She asked.

He turned away from her, climbing into his bed. He heard soft footsteps creep closer. He ignored her, settling into the white, pretending he was on clouds that would carry him to safety and away from the world. He closed his eyes and ignored her even when the bed dipped ever so slightly signaling the weight of whatever she was.

"I live here too," she said, "and I can't leave. I know how you feel."

Waves of anger hit him and his eyes flew open. Luke clenched his fists tightly, sitting up straight and getting in her face. He could feel her breath kiss his lips and could count every freckle dotted on her face. She didn't look scared of him and that fueled his anger even more.

His voice raised as he said, "No you don't, you don't have a timer on your own body!"

She looked around the room before leaning in with a mischievous smile as she said, "I'll let you in on a secret. I'm already dead."

The annoyance that was swimming through his veins like salmon fighting their way upstream decided to go downstream with confusion replacing it. The girl sat back and quietly watched his reaction, a small smile mounted on her face.

"How?" He whispered, unable to gather his thoughts properly, "but you were able to touch me, and you're sitting here right now."

She grinned at him. "See, that's the thing, the more people I'm in contact with, the more I'm alive."

Luke narrowed his eyebrows and asked, thoroughly perplexed, "then why don't you just go around and shake hands with everyone that comes through the doors?"

She frowned and Luke definitely didn't like the look of her upset. The room seemed to darken and the air grew tense. Her color faded a little and her eyes weren't as electrifying. He thought she was about to cry, but instead she just pursed her lips.

"You only have a year left," she announced, changing the subject, "what's on your bucket list?"

"You didn't answer my question," Luke pointed out.

She waved her hand dismissively. "You didn't answer mine and I had to figure it out. Taste your own medicine. Now what do you want to do before you die?"

He bit his lip in contemplation, "I want to go to Italy, its where my parents met before they died. Now I'm alone and the government funds my bills because they died in combat."

The girl frowned again and his heart fell with her, "I'm sorry about your parents. I can't leave the hospital though. This is where I was created so I'm bound to it. I can't take you anywhere, I'm sorry."

He shook his head, forgiving her instantly, "It's okay, I didn't expect you to be able to do anything. I stopped expecting things a long time ago."

She hit the bed twice to get his attention. Her small handprint was left imprinted on the cheap sheets. Just like the rest of her, it was perfect; whoever created her knew what they were doing.

"Okay, then what else is on your list?" she asked eagerly.

He blushed, the idea that popped in his head too embarrassing to say to her out loud. She smiled at him knowingly. Her teasing just made his face grow redder and his body felt impossibly hot. He ducked his head to try and hide from her gaze.

"Luke," she whispered.

He shyly raised his eyes to meet hers. "Are you sure?" she asked.

He bit his lip nervously before clearing his throat and saying, "I'm sure."

She scooted forward and without any hesitation, planted a kiss on his lips. Moments went by, but with his eyes closed it felt like years. She opened her lips and he could feel her breath, it was becoming more stable. Her skin that brushed against his felt warmer and he absorbed every part he could.

Then it changed, a shiver took over his body. His chest began to hurt and his heart felt like it was slowing down. There was a dull ache in his bones and he started to taste blood. Fatigue took over his body and without his command, he fell back onto the bed away from her lips. Everything became blurry and he could see the faint outline of her body.

She was glowing. She mouthed something, but he couldn't hear her over the ringing in his ears. He saw her reach over onto the bedside table and push the button to call for the nurse. She gave him a blurry sad smile, wiping something off of her face before dissipating into the air. He didn't even notice the other people that rushed into the room to save him after another encounter with the mysterious girl. His eyes remained locked on the place she disappeared from until he couldn't hold them open anymore.

Two months later, Luke lay weakly in the hospital bed, barely able to move and feeling overall miserable. He hadn't seen any sign of the girl. His health was questionable and he heard the doctors tell his nurses that they didn't think he'd last another month. All of this for one kiss. He didn't regret it though, he was going to die this year anyways. At least he got a kiss.

All of a sudden, a paper airplane landed gently in his lap. He pulled off the oxygen mask that was strapped to his face and used the remote control to make the bed sit him up. After opening the children's toy, he found soft delicate handwriting inside. I'm sorry. He looked up and found the girl at the foot of his bed, leaning on her arms looking extremely upset.

Still, she was radiant. Her eyes shined brightly, there was enough color in her hair to fill the night sky, and her skin was so flawless she might as well have been an angel. She climbed onto his bed, sitting cross legged next to his feet. She wore the same hospital gown was he did, but hers still seemed nicer, cleaner, newer, and definitely whiter.

"Luke," she began, "I died because a boy took my life from me."

Before he could even reply, she raised a hand to stop him.

"He didn't tell me, and I don't want to do the same to you, so let me explain," she said, not waiting for a response and continuing, "If I touch people, I steal their life. When I died, I was stuck in the place I passed and the boy lived in my place. In order to be fully alive, I need to kill someone, not just shake hands with multiple people. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Luke used all the strength he had to sit up, his decision already made. "Take mine. I have nothing and no one to live for. Live for me. Go to Italy."

She shook her head, denying his request, her bell like voice mesmerizing him. "No, I'm not going to, I'm telling you so you know why I'm going to stay away from you. I like you—"

He surged forward and cut her off, locking their lips together. His heart monitor went off the charts, but he stayed still, giving her everything he had. She pulled away, gasping like she couldn't breathe, but he could see... she was alive.

"Maggie," She said, smiling brighter than his hopes for her new life, "my name is Maggie."

"Hi, Maggie," Luke whispered, wiping away her happy tears. Then his heart stopped.