It's To Dying In Another's Arms

Jasmine was dying- there was no denying that. Everyone knew she was dying. Even before it got bad, people could tell from that sickly tone in her skin, she wasn’t going to last much longer.

He chose to ignore her looming death. She wasn’t dying- she was just sick. Things would get better. She'd be cured. She wouldn't give up.

But now, looking at her sleeping body, lying in the hospital bed, Kennedy is starting to realize that her death can't be avoided. The beeping of the heart monitor echoed throughout the white room. Her breathing sounds so heavy and forced; as if it's taking all of her energy just to suck in the oxygen and release the carbon dioxide.

Jasmine has never looked so weak, so vulnerable. Despite the disease plaguing her body, she'd always stayed so strong. But not now. Now, it was obvious that death was closing in on her. Her once skinny, healthy body was now sickly thin, bones jutting out through her paper-thin skin. Her blonde hair was dull and lifeless, growing oily from her long stay in the hospital. Despite the blankets piled high on her, Kennedy can see her shivering.

He gives her hand the gentlest squeeze, hoping to comfort her. He's afraid to even touch her anymore. Kennedy is sure that too much force, and her glass bones will shatter, breaking right through her skin. It's scary how fragile she's become.

Her gray eyes open up a little, looking so lifeless. But when she sees him, everything is a little more bearable. "Kenny," she whispers, her voice hoarse and shaky. It's the first thing she's said in two days. She's just been sleeping, and he was starting to worry that she'd never wake up.

"I'm here, Jazzy. Don’t worry baby, I'm here," he whispers back. He's almost scared to use his full voice. Besides her heart monitor, the room is eerily quiet. He could practically feel death in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to steal her away.

"Kenny, please just lay with me," she mumbles, her eyes opening and closing sleepily.

He stands from his plastic chair and climbs into the bed with her. She hardly takes up any room anymore. She had turned into a twig, a leaf waiting to get blown away in the wind. As gently as he can, he places his arm around her waist. "It's okay, Jazz, I'm here," he murmurs against her hair, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

"It's so cold," she whispers, burying her face in Kennedy's shirt. His v-neck is dirty and is starting to smell, considering he's been wearing it for the past three days, but Jasmine doesn’t seem to notice.

Kennedy tries to pull the shaking girl closer, being careful not to hurt her. He tries to give her all the warmth in his body, but she continues to tremble in his arms. The shakes grow more violent as she starts to cry, her sobs racking through her entire body.

"I'm scared," she whimpers, tears spilling over from her eyes. "Kenny, I don’t... I don’t want to die. I'm so scared."

He's at a loss for words. He's scared too. He doesn’t want to lose her, not now. Not ever. Kennedy wants to stop her crying, but his own eyes are filling with tears too. "You aren't going to die," he whispers. Not only is he trying to convince her, he wants to convince himself as well. "You're going to start getting better. And once you're better, everything will be okay. We can go to all the concerts you want, and maybe even camp out one night. Sleep under the stars like you always wanted to. It'll get better. You'll get better. It's going to be alright," and it just seems so simple to him, he's starting to believe it. She can't die. She'll get better. But deep down, he knows she won't, and that's why the tears continue to fall from his eyes, splashing down on the pillow cover.

"Goddamn, Kenny, stop thinking like that!" Jasmine snaps, although her voice sounds so weak. It's barely above a whisper, but the anger in her tone was obvious. "I'm dying. Kenny, I don’t want to leave you, but you have to stop thinking like that! Just... please, don't think like that. I'm not getting better."

He looks down at the trembling girl, the girl dying in his arms, and sees the tears pouring from her eyes. The whites of her eyes are bloodshot, getting redder and redder the more she cries. The hopelessness in her voice breaks Kennedy's heart. She's dying, and there is absolutely nothing that he can do.

He just nods, kissing her forehead again. His thumb draws small circles on her hip, the bone jutting out through the skin. "I love you," he says softly.

They'd both said "I love you" before. Jasmine and Kennedy had been together for over two years. But the words still made Jasmine's lips turn upwards in a smile. It's the first time he's seen her truly smile in almost a month.

"I love you too," she says, before cuddling closer to his warm body. She's still so cold, her blood slowly turning to ice. She listens to her heart monitor, the only reminder that she's still alive, feeling her eyes grow heavy with sleep.

Sleep. If she sleeps long enough, this will all go away. It will all just be a bad dream. A nightmare that plagued her for months. The heart monitor's steady beeps speed up, growing more erratic, pain flooding Jasmine's body.

Kennedy sits up quickly, staring down at her. She's doubled over, discomfort contorting her face. "Kenny, it hurts!" She whines, forcing every breath she's taking.

His heart drops, and panic fills his body. "Baby, it's okay. I'm here. Just don’t go to sleep! Please, Jazzy, just stay awake. Baby, just stay awake for me..." He knows that the second she falls asleep, she's a goner.

"But I'm so tired," she whimpers, her gray eyes blinking out a few more tears. She looks so defeated, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"No, no, baby, you aren’t tired. You're wide away. Don’t sleep," he cries, pulling her body against his. He doesn’t care that he might shatter her glass bones, that he might break her paper skin. He just needs her closer. He needs to have her in his arms. "Jazzy, please stay awake!"

His sobs shake her body, but she doesn’t feel it. She doesn’t feel the pain either. Her body is shutting down, growing numb to everything that's happening. It takes almost all her strength, but she puts her hand on Kennedy's cheek, brushing away his tears. "I'm not scared anymore," she tells him, forcing a small smile onto her lips.

"No!" He shouts at her. This isn’t what's supposed to happen. She can't give up. She's come so far, she can't just quit. "Jazzy, Jasmine, no. Baby, please. You can't give up. I need you. Jasmine, I need you!"

It should be him dying, not her. Jasmine was always the strong one. She could fight anything. Kennedy was the weak one. He always gave up. Without Jasmine, he was nothing. She was his world. She couldn’t give up. Not now.

He's starting to wonder where the doctors are, and why they aren’t rushing to save her. "Kennedy, I love you baby. Remember that, please," she forces out, trying to pull oxygen back into her lungs. But she can't. It's just too hard.

Kennedy just holds her body even closer. He kisses her pale lips, but they are just so lifeless. They aren’t her lips. Her lips were pink, and lush, and always kissed back. But these lips were none of that. The heart monitor is going wild, and doctors rush into the room. "Jazzy, I love you too. I love you so much. Please, please don’t give up. Jasmine, please. I can't do this without you. Please..."

The doctors force him to leave the room. The solemn looks on their faces tell Kennedy all that he needs to know.

Jasmine is gone, and this time, she can’t fight her way back.