A/N: Ah, I'm in a sad mood right now. I really shouldn't be. I need to wake up in six hours to hear Mr. Kennedy…Kennedy's radio interview, and then sit my ass in the mall all day. I'm so excited for tonight.

She always wanted to be a princess.

"You look great, Amy," Trish sighed as she entered the room. It was a compliment that Amy did not expect to hear. After all, who looks great when they're lying in a hospital bed with wires running from their body, connecting to machines?

"Cut the shit, Trish," Amy retorted. "You know I look like hell."

But what kind of princess did she want to be? Growing up, she knew she was different from all the other girls. She loved fairy tales, but she wanted to live her own.

"I was just trying to make you feel better," Trish trailed off, now embarrassed. She didn't want to make Amy freak out or anything. Amy was weak enough as it was. One meltdown and she could kill herself from the stress. Her leukemia was that bad.

"I don't think I can ever feel better as long as I live, and we all know that it won't be for much longer," Amy nearly whispered. She was afraid of the reality of her situation. She had been diagnosed with leukemia three years beforehand. Two years after she retired from wrestling, she noticed that she became more and more fatigued while on tour with her band. Amy went to the doctor as a precaution, and he determined that he needed to run more tests. Two weeks later, she found out about her leukemia.

She owned a pair of clear heels, reminiscent of glass slippers, but hated walking in heels. She had a collection of things from places she always wanted to visit. She felt trapped in her own world. She wanted to get out. She wanted to explore. But somehow, nothing seemed to fit for Amy.

"Amy, please don't say that. I don't want you to go," Trish said, tears stinging her eyes, threatening to fall and crash around her dying friend. "H-how much longer did they g-give you?"

"A couple of weeks," Amy bravely replied. Yes, she was afraid of death, but she showed fear to no one. She refused to. She hated how weak her disease had made her. Amy was not a weak person. She finally found her kryptonite.

She never wanted anything bad to happen. She wanted her prince to come and save her. She wanted happily ever after. And one day, he did come.

"Matt says he's going to come and visit," Trish revealed, and Amy gasped in shock. "Amy, are you okay?" Trish asked, seeing how much the gasp had taken out of Amy's weak frame.

After successfully catching her breath, Amy said, "I can't have Matt here. I don't want to talk to him."

But nothing in life is perfect. Her dreams of the perfect life burned up into nothing when she made the biggest mistake of her life.

"Damnit, Amy! He loves you. He's forgiven you. He wants to see you so badly, Ames. He's afraid, just like I am, that today might be the last day we'll ever see you."

"I'll just pretend that I'm asleep."

She no longer wanted to be a princess.

Trish glanced over at the vase of roses that was displayed on the table next to Amy's bed. "Did Matt give you these?"

"Oh, yeah," Amy laughed.

"Why are you laughing?"

"No reason," Amy said, quickly fending off the question with a lie.

"Don't you think that you should throw them out? They're dying."

Amy smiled. She did not want to throw away the flowers. She liked looking at them. They reminded Amy of herself. She never really liked flowers, but the petals of the roses were the same shade of her hair. Each falling of the petal reminded her of all the times chunks of her hair would fall out from the chemotherapy. Every petal that fell told her that time was running out to break the spell she had been cursed with, but it couldn't be broken.

"I like them. They remind me that people actually care." Amy had forgotten what compassion was when she had cheated on Matt with his best friend.

Princesses were meant to be pure. Now she could no longer look at herself as an unorthodox princess. She threw away her makeshift glass slippers, just like she threw out any hopes of the perfect life. She donated her treasures to charities. No one liked her anymore, so why should she like herself?

Trish turned around with fire in her eyes and tears running down her face, dragging mascara along with them. "Amy, you're my best friend. All the shit we've been through in the ring…All of the times we got wasted together…All of the times that I stayed up with you for hours on the phone while you cried over Matt…Amy, I don't know how I'm going to go on without you…"

"Trish, don't cry. I'll be fine. You'll be fine. I deserve this."

"No one deserves death, Amy. Not even you. I wish you never left."

"You left before I did."

"You were better."

Amy didn't respond. The two women sat in silence. Trish cried harder and harder, and Amy just sat there stone faced, trying not to. The silence was broken when Trish's phone went off in her pocket.

Trish read the text message and closed her phone, placing it back in the pocket of her jeans. "Matt's here. I'll go now. I'll come back tomorrow. Don't…don't die on me."

After Trish left, Amy quickly buried herself under the covers and put her head on the pillow. She turned her head to the right so that she wouldn't be facing Matt when he came and sat next to her bed.

"Amy, I--" Matt started the instant he walked through the door, but stopped himself when he saw Amy feigning sleep in front of him. Believing that she really was asleep, he took a seat in the chair next to her bed.

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but didn't say a word. He tried again, but failed. Amy squeezed her eyes shut tighter, afraid that she was going to cry just from feeling his presence in the room.

"Amy, I don't know how t-to say t-this, but I just want you to know that I…I still love you. I wish you were awake for me to tell you all of this but I don't think I could say it to your face. I'm afraid that this is going to kill you, Amy. I know it's going to, but damnit, I don't want you to leave! My life has been hell since you left me for Adam. I know you know that I love you, but…I'm still in love with you, Amy. I think about you every day. I can't do anything without thinking about you. Why do you think I haven't been able to keep any girlfriends? I don't want them. I want you. And since this is going to kill you, I just want one favor from you. Please, just take me with you. I can barely go on knowing that you're not mine, but I couldn't breathe if you were gone forever. I'd rather die than live with the pain of not being able to see your beautiful face anymore. I know it's been years and I should have gotten over this years ago, but I can't. I refuse to. You're the only one for me, Amy, and I'll take that to the grave. If I had to choose between you and air, then I'd suffocate something amazing. I'd die to keep you alive, even if it meant that you could be happy with another guy. If by some miracle you survive this, I know that we can make it work. Fuck, Amy, just please don't leave me…" Matt ended his soliloquy by taking Amy's hand and kissing it gently.

Unintentionally, Amy flinched as she felt some of Matt's tears fall onto her hand.

Matt glanced up at the display of roses, and didn't remember giving her that many. He stood up to leave and said, "I know you don't have long, but I'm not coming back to visit you. I don't think you want me to. God, I just wish you were awake to hear this." As he stepped through the doorway, he turned around and whispered, "I love you, Amy."

Amy waited for a few moments until she knew that Matt was gone for sure. She felt as if she was just a soulless shell. Her emotions felt numb. But if she felt emotionless, why was she crying? Sitting up, she pulled her legs close to her and buried her face into her knees.

Her nurse came into the room. "Ms. Dumas, you have a visitor. Would you like me to let him in?"

"Did he give a name?"

"No, but he is a tall man with long blonde hair, if that helps at all," the nurse explained kindly.

"Oh, that's Adam. If you could let him in, that would be great," Amy smiled with as strong a smile that she could muster.

A couple of minutes later, Adam strolled into the room. "Amy, how are you?"

"Isn't that kind of an ironic question to ask a dying person?" Amy asked, arching her eyebrow.

"So, how long have you got?" Adam asked, leaning back in the chair that Matt was sitting in just moments before.

"They told me a few weeks."

"Did Matt come and visit you?"

"Yeah, he did. I pretended to be asleep."

"Didn't want to talk to him?"

"Something like that."

After all, what princess wouldn't want two princes fighting over her?

Mulling Adam's question in her mind once again, she realized why she didn't want to see Matt.

She was still in love with him, as well.

Matt had come in here and poured his heart out to her, even though she couldn't bear to look him in the eye as she did it.

Adam just sat back and visited her because he felt he had to.

Matt had asked her to take him with her.

Adam just said that he'd miss her.

The two sat and talked about random things of everyday life, but nothing of true importance. Eventually, Adam had to leave for a show. As he left, he took notice of the roses. "Amy, didn't I get you those things?"

"Yeah, you did."

"I don't remember giving you that many."

"You did, Adam. You did."

After Adam left, Amy struggled with herself and leaned over the edge of the bed, grabbing the vase off of the table. She started picking through the roses, taking out the ones that Adam had given her.

How did she know which one's Adam had given her? She didn't trim the stems of those and kept the thorns on.

After tossing out the flowers given out of expectation than love, she replaced the vase on the table. She watched as a dying petal fell from one of the roses.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as one of her machines started beeping.

Her heart started beating faster and faster. The machine beeped faster and faster.

She couldn't take it anymore.

The projected weeks turned into minutes.

She started shaking.

Doctors rushed into the room.

As Amy took one final glance at the roses, she saw another petal fall. As the petal fell, she saw all hope of a fairytale life dying along with the roses.

As she faded out, her thoughts remained on her true prince, the one she never should have left in the first place.

And how she wanted to take him with her…

A/N: I can sleep now…I think.