His Tiny Dancer [COMPLETED]

XXIX

Before this chapter starts, I'd like to recognize @ CouldntThink_OfOne. They've been the biggest supporter of this story for a while now, and I just know that these next three chapters will break their heart. Sorry, not sorry. Buckle up, and grab the tissues.

~Saturday February 5th~

I sit next to a young, beautiful girl laying in a pristine white bed. Her golden hair splays out on the pillow, framing the soft skin on her face. Her eyes look up at me, and I am taken away by their beautiful bright blue hue. Her plump, light pink lips pull into a small smile as I look back at her. My hand is holding hers, my thumb gently gliding over her knuckles. I feel my own smile tugging my cheeks back.

But something's off.

There are tears in my eyes, threatening to spill over. My lips quake as they grimace and try to conceal a sob. My hand is shaking as I clasp onto her brittle fingers. Her lips are cracked and faded, and covered by a clear mask which steam collects on every other second. Her eyes are barely blue anymore, the gray that was once just a tint has taken over. Her hair has turned from gold, to straw, to nothing at all. She is young. But she is laying in a hospital bed.

"I'm ready now," Emma says, glancing at her mother who sits adjacent to me, holding her other hand. I watch as the rest of the room moves in slow motion. A nurse walks up to Emma and injects more morphine into her arm. Our friends hug each other as they say their final loving words. Her family members fight back tears as they speak as well. But I can't hear what they're saying. Emma looks at me, and time finally resumes its normal speed.

"Goodbye Theresa. Thank you. For being my best friend."

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to get up and run out of this room and out of this hospital and away from everyone and everything and never ever come back. I want to pretend this isn't real. But it is.

My eyes are frozen on the twelve-year-old girl in front of me as she dies, my hand still held in her own which grows colder and colder as the seconds pass by.

The room spins until blackness starts to seep into the corners of my vision. I beg the blackness to take me away too and it begins to do so, the circle of light getting smaller and smaller until the only thing I can see is Emma's face. Suddenly all the blackness disappears making me feel dizzy, and Emma opens her eyes. But they aren't blue anymore. They're light brown.

I blink for the first time in what feels like hours and when my eyes open again Emma's body is gone. Instead, a sixteen-year-old girl with caramel brown hair lays in Emma's bed. Her body is nothing but a frail skeleton covered in a thin layer of pale, cracked skin. Her eyes meet mine, and I'm frozen again.

"Theresa!" Riley's voice screams, making my ears ring. My eyes water, but I can't move or make a sound. "Theresa! Save me!" I can't breathe. "Can't you see?!" I can't move. I can't breathe. "Can't you see I'm dying?! Save me!" I'm dizzy, the world is spinning but Riley is still in perfect focus. "Don't forget about me! Theresa!"

I black out, and when I open my eyes, I'm in my room.

I sit straight up, gasping for a breath of air and pulling at my comforter, looking, looking, looking, for what? I clutch onto my own chest and realize I've finally found it: someone to cling to. Someone's shoulder to cry on. Myself. My gasps barely have the chance to turn to breaths before they're sobs. I let my shoulders release from beneath my ears and curl forward to my sternum. My head falls forward and my hands catch my face just in time, elbows digging into thighs.

I can move again. So I take up the cherishable opportunity by crying.

I cry until my cheeks hurt from rubbing the tears away and my throat scratches every time I swallow. I cry until my mind feels numb, but my heart feels just as heavy as before.