Change is Piece
I never thought life could be so hateful. But, at the same time, I never thought it could bring so much joy.
I smiled to myself, “Maybe this is how it's supposed to be. Maybe, I'm supposed to die...in the end, at least my life was worth something.”
“Breakfast will be served shortly, Ella.” Mrs. Raine called, her dark dimples poking out of the sweet smile she always wore. That kind of smile...that's the one I want my children to have. The one that makes you feel all warm, and tingly inside. The kind of smile that makes the daisy's bloom, or the birds sing.
But, I won't have children. I won't grow old, and I won't get to see Mrs. Raine any longer then two months.
Two short months left, to live my life.
“I just...I just wanted to say, that I love you.”
“Oh, honey, I love you too.” She gushed, leaning over the hospital bed, pulling me into a tight hug. She smelled of honey, with a hint of vanilla.
How I love that smell.
I hope, when I die, I'll remember what Mrs. Raine smelled of, when I go up to Heaven. If I do, that is. I know I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but, if there is a God up there, I hope he'll forgive me. I can only hope.
“Shh. Don't cry.” Mrs. Raine whispered, gently smoothing back a stray hair from my face.
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't cry...” I sobbed, clutching onto Mrs. Raine's nurse uniform.
A grin swiftly spread on Mrs. Raine's dry, cracked lips. “Come on, sweetie. Perk up. You have company!” She winked.
I sniffled, “Yes, ma'm. I'm so sorry.”
Gently kissing my cheek, Mrs. Raine shuffled to the door, turning the handle.
“Ella!” I heard the voice, before I saw the figure.
“Oki!” I screeched, as she sauntered through the threshold of the plain, hospital door way.
She smiled, “How ya' doing, honey bun?”
I took a long look at her.
Today, she had on a crisp white dress, with tiny baby blue flowers lining the seems. Soft, colorful pastels paint the sheer fabric in an off white tone, the cotton material breath-taking on such a beautiful figure. The dress came down to about knee length; just enough silky lace to cover the jagged scar on her left thigh.
Her long, glossy mane of dark hair cascaded down her back in smooth, shiny waves. The sharp, razor edge bangs lining the very tip of her lashes. And, her eyes?
Her eyes were a completely different story. On the outside, you may say that Okido was...tough looking, despite the clothing attire that she wore.
But, her eyes, were the exact opposite. They were kind, gentle pools of the bluest sky you could ever imagine. They were sincere, honest. But, they were also strong, yet innocent. You could knock down a full fledged army, with a pair of those eyes.
Maybe I'm not making much sense, but, the point is, that they were amazing. They are amazing.
“How are you?” She asked, concern furrowing her brow.
“I am happy as a clam, now that you're here!” I answered, “By the way, Oki! I see you have that outfit on I bought you, not to long ago.”
“Oh, this?,” She blushed, “I really don't think it looks good. I'm starting to remind myself of Little Bo-peep.”
“Uh huh. I see how it is! You don't like the outfit I picked out for you...? Fine. Be that way.” I joked, pretending to be angry.
For the next few hours or so, we just sat together, just like old times, talking, and rejoicing about memories long forgotten by the present. See, that's the way I see it.
The present has forgotten about the past. The past needs no “future”, nor present tense. It just...is. Past.
My dad always used to lecture me, “Ella, I know you're a smart girl. And I know you'll understand me, when I say this: The past has no feelings. It doesn't care if it's turned the once, happy memories, into sad ones. It just doesn't give a damn', about any of us.”
Whenever he'd say that, I'd just sit their and nod. Like I knew what he was talking about.
But, the truth of the matter is, that I had absolutely no idea. To me, it was all mumbo-jumbo. A foreign language that was ringing in my ears, urging me to understand. But, I never could.
Now, I think I have an idea.
Just a glimmer.
I get what he was saying. I get it. The memories...Those memories I shared with my loved ones, all down the drain. And, I can never get them back. Like a tape playing over and over again from an obscured point of view. That's how I see life, now.
And I can't make new memories! Not any more.
Not until my time is up.
So, I'll cherish this moment.
Those were my last thoughts, until the bomb hit.