And an End comes to All

I don’t own Naruto.

Not the missing limbs, nor bloody gashes.

Nor even the uncontrollable sobbing.

No, it was the eerie silence.

The blank stare.

The nonexistent pulse.

He had been fine, her patient.

Just yesterday he was happily romping around the hospital’s courtyard.

She could have sworn that he was recovering.

His bandages would have come off today.

He was to be released.

But, no.

He wasn’t in the courtyard.

He hadn’t recovered.

He would not be released.

He was dead.

The words rung through her head.

Something in her chest lurched,

Warm rain fell from her ever solemn eyes.

She was falling now.

Desperately clutching onto whatever she could grab.

Nothing.

Just like he was now.

She fell.

The storm of her mind became a hurricane.

Dead.

Gone.

Was it her fault?

Did he hate her?

No, all things must die.

No, he must be happier now.

These thoughts raged and clashed.

A nurse must have noticed.

Someone entered the room.

Someone carried her away.

Away from him.

Forever.

Some familiarity tugged at her subconscious, but she didn’t notice.

The storm blew it away.

Someone was talking.

Comforting words reached her ears.

“It’s okay,”

The voice said,

“It was just his time.”

“No it wasn’t!”

The storm raged,

“It wasn’t at all!”

She screamed.

“He was just fine!”

She sobbed,

“He was getting better!”

The storm grew fiercer,

She couldn’t think,

Couldn’t talk,

Couldn’t breathe.

“Stop.”

Came the voice.

The storm lessened,

“It was.”

The wind grew still,

“He’s dead.”

The rain ceased.

“Everyone will die,”

The voice said,

“You and me, him and her, even them; we all die.”

“I don’t want to!”

The wind howled.

“But you must.”

This story can be about whomever, although it’s directed toward Sakura loosing her first patient.

One of my best friends, her grandfather died yesterday.

I saw him, exactly seven days before he died.

He looked just fine.

It scared me, his death.

It scared me a lot.

Last night, I spent three hours hyperventilating and crying.

24 hours later, my hands are still shaking, by eyes are swollen, and I keep catching myself breathing faster then usual.

I only have two fears:

Death and Caves.

I hyperventilate when I’m exposed to both.

I didn’t even know the man’s first name.

So, I did what felt natural.

I wrote about it.

So, this is dedicated in his memory.

Mr. dela Rosario.

Whenever he was born to May 11th, 2007

May he rest in peace.