A bright light wakes me up, and I snicker because I forgot to close the shades on the giant glass door. Sunlight pours in and makes the light, pastel hospital walls look like a normal room: almost. There are two small windows on either side of my bed, and when I get up to go outside, I curl my toes and nearly jump back onto the warm bed instead of the chilly floor. I slide the door open and head outside. There’s dew on the grass and a light mist shrouds the view I normally enjoy. I have plenty of time before the morning nurse comes to check on me, so I take my little blue book and start to write.

MiKayla is one of the nurses here. She’s become more of a friend than a nurse. She works the night shift, and we talk a lot. I have my own “house” so the only people in this condo/apartment like hospice building are the nurses and me. She’s usually here from 5-10 in the afternoon and we hang out and watch movies a lot. She’s pretty cool and normally she keeps her emotions under control, even though I’m pretty sure seeing someone in such a sorry state bothers her. It makes me feel better when she’s around; she’s happy, smiling, and it helps me forget what’s going on when she’s around. I still don’t consider her a visitor because she gets paid while we hang out and I don’t. The rest of the nurses are nice, but MiKayla’s the only one I feel like I can open up too. For some reason I don’t trust Jill, I feel like she tells everyone what I say because after I tell her everyone seems to know. The page might seem a little wet, I’m outside and it’s misty. It smells clean and fresh out here like when it rains, I love the rain. It bothers other people and makes them feel sad, but it usually cheers me up. The sound is relaxing, and I just now realized I’ve gone ADD on you and started talking about something random. (You don’t have ADD it’s just something I say) MiKayla is a good friend, and if you’re confused by the changing handwriting, it’s ‘cause she writes down stories I tell her. Half the time when we’re watching movies we’re not even paying attention, and I’m telling her stories. The first time she wrote them down I didn’t realize what she was doing. Then I saw different handwriting and read the story I had told her. I asked her, and she said “Might as well, right? I know you ain’t been writin’ this stuff.” I laughed, and she punched my shoulder lightly.

“Kailyn? Kailyn? It’s time for your medicine! Kailyn, you shouldn’t be out here!” Janice exclaimed. I pushed my journal into the pocket of my hoodie. Janice had an unnaturally red pixie cut. She looked at me over her reading glasses, and I felt like I little kid caught doing something I know I shouldn’t. I commented on it and she smiled for a moment, but then she was like a stern parent again. She ushered me inside and made me lay down on my bed. She started reconnecting all my wires, and I grimaced at the idea of being stuck in this bed all day, Janice didn’t notice. She injected my pain medicine into the IV and I sighed, she finally noticed my unhappy expression.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

“I can swallow pills,” I grumbled. “You don’t have to give it to me through an IV.”

I crossed my arms and gave her my best grouchy look. She muttered something about taking it up with my doctor, and I rolled my eyes as she walked away. MiKayla had told me that after fifteen minutes I could disconnect the IV and I wouldn’t waste the medicine. I flipped channels for twenty minutes before I disconnected my wires and went outside. I knew it would only be about two minutes before Janice or Jill or even Bethany was back. I sat outside breathing in the fresh air, hoping that maybe I’d soak up some sun and look a little bit less like a shut-in. I didn’t realize how much time had passed because when a nurse came it was already ten and they had my breakfast. I skipped toward the room and Kaleb, the only male nurse that I saw, smiled at me. Kaleb was really nice and I was glad he thought of me as a friend, he had started to confide in me lately.

“It’s amazing what some vitamin D can do, isn’t it?”

I nodded and sat down at the end of my bed to eat. Today, I was having an omelet, but I wished I was having a bowl of cereal for once. Kaleb sat and chatted with me while the fog outside evaporated. It was warming up and we moved outside. He talked about school and his plans for becoming a doctor. He was also glad that I was here and he didn’t have to push someone around in a wheelchair. I smiled at him; I understood that being surrounded by old people who were sick and dying could be depressing. I was sick and dying, but at least I was closer to his age. Most of the nurses that worked with me were in their twenties and then Janice was like thirty-nine. He told me that every now and then he stayed and worked a little bit of overtime to see MiKayla. I nodded and listened, not surprised. I had seen the two of them walking around together.

That night I talked to her about it and set the two of them up on a date. She told me all about it the moment she got back on duty. They were dating now, they had been for nearly as long as I’ve been here, and both of them asked me for advice. I was happy things were working out for them. He left and I went back to writing down things I thought were important. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed until I heard a quiet knock on the door.

“Hey, Kailyn,” MiKayla started walking in, “I’ve got some great news.” I sat up and waited for her to say something. I could tell she was crying and she held up her left hand. I could feel my jaw drop and she smiled at me.

“No way! Omygoodness this is amazing! When did he ask?” I squealed.
She bounced up and down then came and described everything to me. We talked about the wedding for the rest of her shift. When she left, she was still smiling.

I was happy for her and that kept despair from filling me. I didn’t want to think about Alex, but I couldn’t help it. Something told me that I would’ve been the one telling my friends, and they would’ve been freaking out when they saw the ring. Alex would’ve made sure that I had a great story to tell them. He would’ve done something crazy romantic and better than perfect. I stopped that train of thought before I became too sad. I shrunk into my jacket and twisted my bracelet around my wrist again and again. It was a silver bracelet that Alex had given to me when we first started dating and I rarely took it off.

I looked at the picture that was sewn into the lining of the hoodie and ripped it out so I could paste it into the journal on the page that was all about Alex. The sun had set, but I didn’t need light to tell you about the picture; it was the two of us on the beach, and it looked like a Valentine’s Day card. The sun was setting behind us and we were shadows so you couldn’t tell it was us. We had been talking quietly, he was whispering in my ear, and after the lady showed it to us Alex had paid her for the picture. Thinking about Alex made me sad, and being sad made me feel exhausted. I stopped that train of thought in an attempt to preserve some energy, but I was tired anyway, so I curled up with the journal and let myself slip into a light uneasy sleep.

I woke up as the sun rose and sent rays of light across my face. I looked around the room I was in, not recognizing a thing. I was connected to several different machines that were beeping and whirring. I had no idea why I was here. I felt uneasy; I was in some sort of hospital or hospice center and I couldn’t remember anything. I disconnected all the wires, but I didn’t remember learning how to do that. I opened the door and went outside. I heard a thump behind me and saw a little blue journal on the floor. I ignored it and hurried outside. I was cold but I ignored the piercing feeling, and hurried toward the ledge to look over. I was on a cliff overlooking miles and miles of a forest that seemed to be entirely composed of giant evergreens. They seemed menacing and storm clouds were building up on the horizon. The panic was setting in, and I started to pace. The clouds covered the sun, and I could hear thunder in the distance. I was wearing a pale grey jacket over a pair of sweats which wasn’t the usual hospital getup. So I was in hospice. I was dying, and they wanted to make sure I was comfortable for the last few months. I had no idea how much time I had left. I didn’t know what my name was or anything about myself. I couldn’t tell you if I hated the rain or if I was allergic to peanuts. I knew I was afraid of dying, and I felt like it was coming fast. It started to sprinkle lightly, but I couldn’t find the strength to move. I was dying and the doctors couldn’t change it. If they could, wouldn’t I be in a hospital? I could hear footsteps and someone yelling about getting everyone inside. I wanted to move, but I felt like I was frozen in place. The rain dropped off the tree branches above me and splattered onto my head. The rain was cold, so I reached for my hood so my head wouldn’t freeze. I didn’t have hair. I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know who I was. Tears and rain mixed on my cheeks, and I started to shiver. I finally managed to convince myself to move and got up and stumbled into my room so I could curl up on my bed.

I saw the little book on the floor and started to ignore it but leaving it on the floor seemed cruel, like I was blaming it for not knowing anything about myself. It was light blue, and the pages were well turned and covered in black ink. I shut the glass door and tossed the book onto the nightstand, flinching a little when it landed. Even with everything going on, mistreating a book like that felt wrong. I fell onto my bed, hopelessness was exhausting. I assumed I had amnesia from whatever had landed me in hospice. The book was lying on the light, oak surface of the nightstand. I had absolutely nothing to do so I picked it up and flipped through the pages.

It was handwritten, and at least two people had contributed to it. The handwriting was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I read the first page and put it down with shaking hands. I had known this was coming. I had known I would freak out so I wrote down everything I thought I should know about myself. I had read the first note I had written and I laughed at myself. I could tell I felt weird writing a note to myself. It made since, I’m sure I had felt crazy when I first started.

I put the book down and leaned back onto my bed. I knew enough about myself to not be panicking anymore. I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. I took the pen that was by my bed and scribbled “read me” onto a piece of paper that I had torn out of the back. I set it on top of the book and sat it on the nightstand. A nurse with bright red hair walked in with a glass of water and a couple of pills. She smiled at me and I was confused about why pills would make me happy. I hadn’t written anything about this and I was nervous. I guess I didn’t hide my surprise well and she stopped suddenly.

“Kailyn, sweetie, what do you remember?” She asked, a worried look filled her eyes.

“Well, nothing really, but I wrote down things I though were important down in this,” I said holding up the small, lightweight journal. She relaxed a little, I guess the idea of telling me what I was like seemed strange.

“Well, yesterday you complained about having to take medicine through an IV so I talked to your doctor.” She announced, handing me the pills. She looked me over and brought me a fluffy green towel, a pair of sweats and a grey shirt. I went to go change, laughing quietly. She nodded her approval, took my wet clothes and offered to dry my hoodie if I wanted her to. I handed it over a little unwillingly, it was the only thing I had instantly felt comfortable with, and went back to reading my little blue book.