to be determined [A FORMER WATTPAD FEATURED STORY]

NINE

Ki sits next to me.

I'm crying.

I had to ask him what the droplets were called; he said tears.

He tells me it's normal to cry, that it's normal to feel alone in this kind of situation.

I try to say thank you, but my words begin to slur together.

I feel layers of sweat covering my skin, as if I'm losing mobility. I feel extremely weak, almost as if my body has given out, sinking into the bed.

The images around me are fuzzy, pixelated; my head throbs with an extricating pain that refuses to go away.

I don't know what's happening . . .

but I feel helpless.

And I think it's because maybe I am.