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Author of 72 Stories |
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"Goodbye, Greg."
White walls surrounded him, drowning him. Everything echoed, slowly driving him insane, not that he wasn't going crazy as it was.
Fake smiles, and fake love, fake pain and fake torment. That's all he could see. It was all fake, including this. Nothing was going on, nothing was wrong.
There was no way he was in a hospital, surrounded by people who really needed to be there, and some who didn't. He wasn't leaning over the other's cold body sobbing.
No one else was sobbing either, which hurt even more. Someone pulled him up, holding him close and he relaxed until he realized it wasn't David.
He thrashed about, knocking the other way, falling on to the floor in a heap, sobbing his heart out. David would tell him not to cry, but David wasn't here now.
Hours in denial were followed by hours of therapy and hours of would-be friends expressing their concern.
He was incurable, but the pain did fade, ever so slowly, as time wore on. You could still see the pain in his eyes and lack of smile.
Because, the night David died, Greg died too.
"Don't say goodbye to me, ever."
"Why not?"
"Because 'Goodbye' is forever."