I lie here in my bed treasuring every breath I'm able to take.
Everyone's around me including the King of France, they're looking at me with such sad and mournful faces.
I can feel their warm tears fall on my arm.
I can hear them whispering. "If this Doctor were here maybe she'd get better."
I faintly smile at that notion but I fear my time is growing short.
The thought of no longer seeing his smile and warm brown eyes, tasting his kiss or feeling his touch is making it harder to hold on.
The Doctor told me to pick a star, promising he'd come back in five minuets but that was several years ago.
He has probably learned of my death in the history books,by now.
My heart is breaking, fate has been so cruel to us.
The promise of traveling the stars will likely never happened but I hope many others will get to have that privilege.
I promised him I'd never listen to reason but I'm afraid I've let him down as my heart grows weaker.
I take my last gasp of air and I swear I can hear his voice calling my name.
"He's here, He kept his promise." I whisper.
"Who's here?" The King asks grasping my hand but I don't tell him.
Instead I close my eyes and let the last image I see in my mind be of him, my Fireplace Man.