THE LAST DAYS IN THE HOSPITAL
Velaria's third month in St. Marcellus had come quickly. She had gotten used to the routine, the early morning checkups, the medicine sessions, and the long hours staring out of her hospital window, but the best part of each day remained the same, Dylan.
He had a mischievous side that made her laugh, even on the days when the medicine made her feel weak and dizzy.
The reality of her discharge loomed over her like a shadow. The doctors had said she was finally in remission and would be released in three weeks.
The thought should have made her happy, but it didn't.
A few days before she left, the two children strolled down the hospital garden. Velaria held Dylan's hand tightly, amazed at how brave he seemed compared to her.
"You know," Dylan said suddenly, looking at her seriously, "I think you're the strongest kid here. Stronger than me even".
Velaria felt a blush creep over her cheeks. "I'm… I'm not that strong," she admitted softly. "I just… try not to cry."
Dylan shook his head. "No, really. You're amazing. I've never met anyone like you. Promise me?"
"What?" Velaria asked, curious.
"Promise me that you'll always be brave," he said, gripping her hand firmly. "Even after you leave here."
Velaria nodded, feeling the warmth of his words settle into her chest. "I promise."
"I don't want to leave," Velaria admitted as she sat on the garden grass beside Dylan. "I… I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too," Dylan said softly. "But we can still write to each other. I'll call you, I swear.
And look, I brought something for you."
He handed her a small box. Velaria opened it carefully, it contained a glittery delicate bracelet, an heirloom from his family.
Her small fingers trembled as she took it in. "Wow, it's beautiful." She said with so much excitement."I'll keep it forever," she whispered, her eyes welling up.
Dylan nodded, swallowing hard. "And I brought two red boxes… one for you, one for me. We can put all our stuff inside, so if we meet again, we'll know it's us."
One evening, Valeria cried uncontrollably. "I don't want to go," Dylan held her hand tightly. "I'll find you again. I promise. No matter what."
Her parents tried to console her, but nothing seemed enough. She had formed a bond with Dylan that went beyond friendship. It was a connection forged in pain, bravery, and understanding.
"I don't want to go," Velaria whispered, holding his small hand.
"Me neither," Dylan said softly. "But we can write letters! And I'll visit. You'll see!"
"We promised to be brave, remember?" Dylan added.
"I promise," Velaria sniffled. "But it hurts."
"I know," Dylan said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Nothing can break our friendship."
"Don't cry again," he said, his voice shaky.
Velaria smiled faintly, clutching the red box that Dylan had given her. Inside was a drawing of her, her parent, Dylan, and the garden. She gave Dylan a copy of her drawing as well.
Three weeks later, the day came. Velaria's parents helped her pack her belongings while nurses checked her vitals for the final time.
That fateful day, Dylan was restricted from visiting the hospital by his mom and aunt. They had kept Velaria's discharge date a secret, hoping to prevent him from throwing a tantrum.
Velaria waited patiently, her eyes scanning the entrance, silently hoping he would appear so she could say her final goodbye.
"Mum, Dad, can we wait a little longer? He's almost here," she pleaded, pressing her face to the window one last time. Clutching the red box to her chest, holding tight to the memory of their laughter, she whispered, "I'll wait."
An hour passed, yet no sign of Dylan came. Her parents gently led her to the car, and she kept glancing back, desperate to catch a shadow of him, to hear even the faint echo of his voice calling her name.
Tears welled in her eyes as her father drove away. Her chest felt heavy from not being able to say goodbye.
But then she remembered his words: "I won't forget you, I promise. You need to be brave, just like you've always been." She took a deep breath, trying to hold onto that comfort.
Her parents tried to console her too. They told her she would visit soon, and slowly, she found a little strength.
The next day, Dylan's frustration was palpable. He had searched the hospital since the morning he arrived , asking nurses, doctors, and even the cleaning staff if they knew where Velaria had gone.
"She's gone," a nurse finally told him gently.
Dylan's small shoulders slumped, his fists clenching.
He didn't believe it at first.
"Why wasn't he told by his aunt?" "Why keep it from him? He just wanted to say his last goodbye". He thought with tears welling up his eyes and with sadness across his face.
He ran to Dr Nadia's office as she was focused on some research papers.
She noticed him walk in and staring at her intently, hoping that this wasn't real.
"Dylan, are you okay? Come here, let me give you a hug. Don't be sad, dear," she said softly. "You know Velaria is a strong girl. She's doing just fine wherever she is."
But Dylan couldn't hold back. He ran into her arms, tears streaming down his face. "She's gone," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Nobody told me …"
His aunt stepped closer, trying to comfort him. "Stop crying, Dylan. You'll see her again, I promise."
"Really? You promise?" he asked, looking up, his eyes still wet with tears.
"Yes," she said gently. "Remember, Velaria wants you to stay strong for her."
He nodded slowly, remembering their promises.
That night, as Velaria lay in bed clenching the red box, she thought about the hospital. It had been a place of pain and fear, but it was also where she found Dylan.
Outside, city lights twinkled. Somewhere, Dylan was thinking the same thing, oblivious about what the future holds.