There are some days, she wishes she never found the note. She wishes she had walked by it, thought of a piece of trash, and threw it away. She keeps it with her, always tucked in her breast pocket, close to her heart. It’s pages have been folded over and over, the crease is beginning to break, the ink beginning to fade on the edges where her fingers have left their marked.

She can feel its words overtaking every moment of her life, every breath that she takes, every decision she makes, every moment when she says something, she never would’ve said before. The note has told her she doesn’t need to be silent. The note has told her that she is worth something. Before it, she was quiet, she was meek. She showed up, day-to-day, and did what needed to be done. She didn’t know that there was more, or if she did, she refused to admit it.

She doesn’t even know who left the note. She found it on her rounds, cleaning. Was it the woman in 2A? The one whose family never came, who spent all days alone, but seemed better for it. A woman at the end of her life, who finally found the peace she never had while she was living. Was it the young girl in 3B, who died fighting, gone too early from this world. A girl who laughed, loved, surrounded by those who helped her fight. A girl who never knew what life could be she doesn’t know. But she knows it was a woman. No man would write those words.

She looks at the note now, the words are printed on her memory, and much of part of her as the blood and her veins and the oxygen in her lungs. It is only 10 words, but there are 10 words that will change her world forever.

“In the end, there was only I. I was enough.”

As Angela walked through the long bustling corridors of the hospital, she saw all of the patients that needed help and she felt empathy for them. She was taking care of her own patient though, and this boy was important. She had to take care of him and be with him for he was going to die soon.

She walked further in the hallway and it became less busy. ROOM 456. Angela opened the door and went inside as quiet as she could because the young adult was sleeping. A white blanket covered his blue robe that he wore. Wires went to his nose and arms keeping check on him at all times.

She walked over to the tablets checking his vitals and his blood dosage. She cleaned up his food tray and prepared to take it back to the kitchen but when she lifted it, she found a paper.

She opened it and inside found a note. It read; “Sorry, that I was like this guys. I hate myself for leaving you guys. I don’t know why God did this to me but he does everything for a reason, right? I know you’re gonna get that engineer degree you want Joe, and Ana? Get that robotics job you wanted. Do it for me. Mom, Dad? Keep going. Don’t despair, I will see you again, in heaven. I’m so sorry…”

The note ended and the nurse was in tears. She sniffled and folded the paper. She put it on the table and sat there for a minute.

“Can you give that to my parents?” She looked up and saw the teenager looking at her. She wiped her eyes and hugged him.

“Yes, I will give this to them.” Angela whispered trying not to sob. He only had a couple of hours left, according to the doctors.

Angela stayed with to boy till the end. She delivered the note to his family, and they were grateful and read it with many tears. She even attended his funeral.

Angela went from that point on; cherishing every living person and giving her services to them to make sure they were happy.

She did not want to see someone die in front of her like she did with that boy. Never again…

I probably shouldn’t be reading this—

Was my first thought when I found the paper stuffed inbetween the vintage New Testament I had found under the tiles in the Westmont’s Hospital cleaning closet. It was an odd find—I was returning a mop accidentally left out by the janitor and had seen the tile sticking up. Before I knew it I was sitting in the palely lit closet on my knees carefully unfolding the yellowed paper with frayed edges. With narrowed, interested eyes I scanned the paper:

-I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy-

That sentence was repeated at least twenty times on the page. Over and over, in small, spastic handwriting. I read on:

-But I am. He knows I am. The man in the walls. He tells me who I truly am. He is my reflection. He is everywhere.

Have you ever been to hell?

Because I have. I still feel it. And you will too. But thats ok. The only thing we really have to fear is ourselves. I am my worst monster. I’m. I’m. Help. I’m Not Crazy. I’m Not Crazy. I’m Not.

In big bold letters, across the partly torn, brownish paper, HELP is written.

Despite the sickening pull at my stomach, I read on.

-He’s watching. But that’s ok. I talk to him often. He tells me about the future. Like a big, warm hug, it’s waiting for me. I haven’t been hugged in awhile. I wonder. No matter. And what of you, Bill? Have you thought of the future? I think I know of yours. He told me that

The lights in the closet flicker. I try to read the last couple words of the sentence before the lights buzz wildly and I’m left in complete darkness.

Before I can stand, an icy, incoherant whisper convulses my body in chills.

I get off my knees and fumble for the doorknob. Where is it? Where is it? My fingers slip along the door. Panic fills me and sucks out my insides. At last my hands find—

A hole. My hand goes down a hole where the doorknob would be. My fingers desperately grope the door for something, anything—

“Bill?” coos the chilled voice. I turn and press my back against the door. I can’t see anything. Theres nothing.

Before I can listen any further, something grabs my neck. I shriek as sharp nails claw at my face. I scream and scream wildly, thrashing my arms and pulling desperately at what has me. I’m pinned against the door whie nails rake down my neck, biting pain that causes warm blood to smear down my skin.

I scream once more, a blood-curdling shriek that rips my vocal cords as I continually hold the figure off of me.

The steady wall I was leaning on suddenly releases—and next thing I know I’m sprawed out on the ground in the blinding light. I crawl up desperately away from the closet, pulling at the smooth wax floors.

“Alison!” cries a familar nurse.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!” I yell. Despite my threats, hands tentively steady my shoulders and help me to sit up while heart pounds in my ears.

“Relax, Alison—relax—please, breathe..”

Eventually my eyes ease up and the white stale light allows me to see clearly the three nurses surrounding me with concerned faces.

“Oh your neck—“ “Alison what happened?” “You’re bleeding,”

“Something grabbed me-“ I stammer out, and my hands go to gingerly touch my neck. I feel the indented scratches, the metallic smell of blood under..

My fingernails?

“Something clawed me—“ I continue. “Something in the closet..”

“Something?” asks Sophia, the youngest nurse in the group. Her eyes flit to my nails, and I see her swallow.

They help me to my feet, promising to clean my neck soon. The event has clearly shaken them. They even consider calling the police. Despite their warnings not to go near it, I glance into the closet. The light is shining steadily, and the cheap silvery doorknob is glinting. I dare not look for that note.

My stomach swirls and churns uneasily.

I go to the bathroom and rinse off my hands. With the pink sudsy soap I use my opposite hand to go underneath my long nails clumped with old blood. My own. As I desperately scrub, I can’t help wondering how it made its way so deep.

And as I stare at my own tired, newly scarred reflection, I recall the letter’s words.

-I am my worst monster-

Bedtime was 10 pm. It had always been 10 pm. Like manu, i am a creature of habit, at 9 pm I would slip into my pajamas, let my dog Shadow out, make a p b and j sandwich and lay in bed listening to podcasts until i drifted off. Until last night when something strange happened. I had gotten a new job, working 7 a m till 4 p m driving forklift at the warehouse a couple blocks over. My body was adjusting to my new schedule and I accidentally fell asleep on the couch around 6 watching a movie. I woke up disoriented and noticed the clock red 12:07 a m. I quickly realized i hadn’t let shadow out and figured he likely was patiently waiting for his nightly backyard jaunt. But I couldn’t find him. I spent the next half hour so anxious searching the house for my canine companion, but he was nowhere to be found. I glanced at the digital clock on my stove and watched 1:10 turn to 1:11 as I frantically tried to figure out where shadow could be. But he was on my lap. Was i half asleep and somehow didn’t notice him this whole time? Shadown rolled onto his back, seated comfortably on my lap and began to yawn, his mouth opened wide and mid yawn, in a deep voice he said “sleep”. I woke up in my bed confused at 6:30 in the morning, shadow beside me. What a strange lifelike dream, i thought to myself as i dressed for work and left.

The weekend had arrived and i grabbed a case of beer and a gram of cocaine from a coworker on the way home. My favorite ball team was playing on the west coast which meant that they would be playing the late game. Phelps was pitching and he was dominating but we couldn’t score and the game was tied nothing nothing after 9 inning. “We got extras shadow, you think we can pull it off” i asked my pup as i scratched…..nothing. I felt like a fool, here i was with a pillow on my lap, thinking it was my dog. It was right around 1 in the morning, but i was about a half gram deep and wide awake. “Shadow buddy wanna go outside??” I yelled. I heard the roar of the crowd through the surround sound, Jansen was up and he had been red hot all month, it was must see t v. He had a hell of an at bat, fouled off about a dozen pitches. Finally he barreled up an inside fastball and launched it into the seats. What a fuckin finish, i glanced at the clock and it read 1:11 and shadow sneezed on my lap. “Shadow! Jeepers buddy where the heck did you come from?” Shadow crawled out of his skin and barked a deafening bark which made my vision turn white and my limbs go numb. “You’re not here”.

I woke up at work sitting on the toilet. Was i dreaming? I left the stall and went to the mirror to splash some water on my face, i felt sick. My reflection shocked me. “Return to reality” the words were carved into my head. I fainted. I awoke on my apartment floor for a moment and watched the sun crash into the earth and fell into yet another slumber. Suddenly i was in a white room staring at a pendulum ticking back and forth. Above it a clock reading 1 am. I began counting in an attempt to distract my mind from whatever nightmare i had found myself in. I counted to 300 then opened my eyes. The clock still read 1 am. I counted even harder, all the way to a thousand. Still 1 am. Suddenly i heard a voice, but not with my ears, a voice speaking directly into my being. “Good boy” shadow stood before me. Hundreds of feet tall.

My eyes opened as jansen stepped into the box. 10th inning. Cold sweat dripped down my face. Jansen turned on an inside fastball and barelled it up. Shadow leapt up, plucked the ball off the television and brought it to me, dropping it at my feet. Suddenly blood erupted from my eyes. I held them shut terrified for what felt like hours. When i finally summoned the courage to open them i was yet again seated in the bathroom stall at work. I hopped up to my feet and sprinted towards the door but the floor crumbled under my feet as the sound of a thousand bells deafened me.

I awoke to my mother and father seated in front of me. “What’s wrong buddy? You look scared?” They asked. I barked. I howled. I ran on all fours but didn’t move. “Good boy”

I needed a job bad, i needed smackers. I fired up microsoft word and opened my resume. I changed my name to Elon Musk and edited my job experience to say i had been a nurse for 600 years and that i single handedly cured the bubonic plague. I said my hobbies included saving the world and inventing new medicines and occasionally fist fighting germs. A local nursing home was thrilled to have Elon Musk joining their staff so the hired me on the spot. About 10 minutes into my first shift some old guy died. I reached into his pockets and stole his wallet and cell phone. I furiously opened his wallet lookin to find some cash for the vending machine. I was disappointed when I found no cash at all, just a note scribbled on the back of a photo of jeff probst shirtless. The note read “ I am count dracula. I have been alive for 10 thousand years. I have bitten countless mortals and brought unspeakable terror to the world. Van helsing is a bitch. Fuck werewolves. I sometimes am a bat, and i sometimes sleep upside down when the nurses arent paying attention. As im sure you have noticed, there is a wooden stake in my heart.” Only then i noticed that there was indeed a big old stake in his chest. I sat on his face and bucked my hips like a bull rider. His fangs hurt my gooch but still I remember what mike craib had told me “any girl can squirt”

“Please, just kill me.”

The wooden desk was always empty near his bedside. He never put water or food on that side of her bed. Sun would shine in from the nearby window and illuminate dust, sun panes, and shadows, but there was never any object. A plant would probably do well there, Nurse Bianchi had thought more than once. That was why she knew that the letter wasn’t there before, and was there now.

Marcus had been breathing the day before. He was in the last stage of his cancer, but maintained a positive attitude throughout. On the outside, that is. Nurse Bianchi had seen both opposites: people angry at the cancer, cursing it as if it were a person. And people thanking it for teaching them a lesson to appreciate life more. Marcus was somewhere in between. Not grateful, but not hopeless, either. That is, until last night. She heard the buzzer and sensed a rattle in his room as she approached. He never rang.

His face was pale when she got there. “What can I do?” She asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “I hit the buzzer on accident. I apologize for disrupting you.”

“It’s my job, not a bother,” she said, eyeing his crumpled bedclothes. He had been moving around.

“Were you using the restroom just now?”

“No, only . . . I mean, yes, yes I was.”

She understood. He had been moving somewhere, some way he wasn’t supposed to be. She didn’t want to push, especially so late.

“Goodnight, Marcus,” she said, and closed his door.

Next morning, he was breathing but unresponsive. They checked his papers and files and found that he had no next of kin to contact to determine next steps. Nurse Bianchi hadn’t seen any visitors since he arrived at the hospital four years ago. At first, he was in and out, but for the last year he had been steadily in the room she was in now. She called in the doctor, who examined Marcus and shook his head. “We’ll have to consider some options,” he said without an explanation. He left the room.

That was when she found the note. Placed on the desk, sun shining down on it as if by some divine being. She picked it up and read the four words: “Please, just kill me.”

Her heart dropped to her feet as she looked back at Marcus. His eye lids were not fluttering. The steady beeping of the machine at his side was the only indication that he was alive at all. A life? For some. Not for her to decide…

But she couldn’t ignore the note. He deserved some peace. Without any more thinking, she pulled the plug and listened as the beeping slowly intensified and then died out. The cord was still in her hand when the doctor, with other nurses, rushed back in. Marcus’ letter had fallen to the ground.

It’s almost three in the morning. Only one hour until I can clock out.

In the break room, I leafed through all of my patient’s files. As I did so, I could barely keep my eyes open. Fatigue drained all the energy from my body. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have enough money to buy an energy bar from the vending machines. I must push through the remaining minutes of my shift as I read through the piles of paperwork.

“Hey, Lana? You remember Darren, right?” My coworker Stephanie asked.

I nodded. Memories of the former patient overwhelmed my mind. He was in about his late twenties diagnosis with lung cancer. No matter how many rounds of chemotherapy he suffered through, a smile was always on his face. He knew it would only delay his inevitable death, but that never changed the happiness he brought to others. Even when he had no family, no friends, not even a significant other to visit with.

The poor man had passed away three weeks after his birthday.

“Yes, I remember him. Why?”

Stephanie handed me a small white envelope and left without a word. The keys hooked on her waist clinked loudly against her blue scrubs after each step.

I took the white envelope carefully in between my fingers. The entirety of it is blank except for the small “sealed with a kiss” message on the edge of the flap. There is no indication of who this is to or where it’s from.

With my purple acrylic nails, I ripped the envelope open in one try. Ruby red rose petals poured out on the table. Digging my hands further inside, I found a folded piece of lined paper. A letter. It read:

Dearest, Lana

Today is my last day on Earth. While that may be tragic, in all of my twenty eight years, I have never felt so cared for and appreciated. All of my life I have been alone in this world, with no purpose or any other reason to live. And when I was diagnosed with cancer, I felt I was only put into this world to be punished. But as soon as you entered the hospital room, all of those feelings melted away. Your laughter was contagious, your smile was as bright as the sun, and your eyes sparked with hope. The memories, thought limited, got me through each round of chemo because you were right there with me. In a way, you saved me.

That’s when I began to fall in love with you.

But I knew my time was coming, so I couldn’t confess to you then. I could never bear seeing your heart broken. So when I go, I want you to know that I am okay. To not focus on what you lost, but what we had. Live your life. Find love. Have children if you want! Just keep in mind that I’m watching over you, and I will continue to do for eternity. Until we meet again.

                                                  Love, Darren

Tears spring to my eyes, daring to spill down my cheeks. This was the first time anyone had ever put this much thought and effort into telling me how they feel. Each word was raw, compassionate, and true.

Through blurry eyes, I looked up at the clock. Only one minute until my shift was over, until I could go home. But I didn’t rush to get my things together, nor did I move an inch from the chair. This letter reminded me why I became a nurse. Why I put in all of this hard, exhausting work. I did it because of my love for helping people. The smiles and happiness when a patient finally gets discharged kept me going. The fellow nurses who I became close with, who are now my most trusted friends. The lives I get to save.

I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

And that will never change as long as I have time.

Time in this world to keep living.

Everything changed that day. I’d say it was the start of both our lives, but Liliana’s life . . . She never really had a start. Just the horrible truth that the end could be any day. Like every perfect story, the day started out . . . Terrible.

“Adrain!” Mom’s quiet knock makes my heart stop. I thought she was still at work. If I’d known she was going to be here then I wouldn’t have slammed the door letting my sobs echo through the whole entire world. “I’m fine,” I make my voice as loud as I can, I’ve noticed that it’s the secret to hiding tears. At least for me it is. “Sweetie, just tell me what’s going on.” I let my eye lids fall down over my eyes as I hug my stuffed lion to my chest. Even at fifteen I still feel like a child. Maybe I still am. I hear the faint click of the door as Mother steps slides in. She’s still in her light blue nurses clothes. I’ve never really found out what those are called. Her kind eyes are shinning with tears as she sit on the edge of my bed. “Did it happen again?” She asks, “You hurt yourself.” Suddenly the fresh cut on my wrist starts stinging. I hold my breath, and shake my head weakly. A few months ago when I had started my medication for anxiety I started feeling better. I could talk to people, and the whole world felt safer. But then . . . I pushed myself so hard. Wanting to talk to people, and the punishment for failing to achieve my goal was . . . Hurting myself. Mother told me it was something she’d suffered from as a teen as well. Still I felt like I shouldn’t be like this. All the other boys at my school are strong and speak their minds. Sometimes I feel like a mistake. Actually I feel like that all the time.

“Adrain,” Mom pulls me into a tight hug, “Your scaring me so much.” I let my tears soak Mother’s shoulder as I let my arms hang weakly at my side. “You’ll tell me,” now her voice is filled with tears, “If you ever think about hurting yourself again. Promise me Adrain.”

I shake my head, “I can’t promise you when I’m not sure that I’ll be able to keep it.” Mom lets out a pained gasp as she rocks me back and forth like when I was little. “I can’t live without you,” Mom cries quietly, “Please if you ever get to that point again. Just remember that you are my life and if you do this. Then . . . Baby I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“But,” I let out a small breathless cry, “You lived without me before.” “Only because I didn’t know you. I do know and I need you.”

      …………………………………

“I don’t think this will work,” I say, staring out the car window as Mom pulls into the hospital parking lot. She gives a quick glance my way, “Adrain, the terminally ill paitents that I care for are suffering. Not in the same way as you, but I think having someone their age to talk to will make it at least a little better for them.”

I let out a quiet sigh. I’ve never been good at talking to just a normal, happy person. But a person who’s living in pain, not just because of the cancer but because of the thought of death.

Mom stops the car and reaches over me to open my door, “There’s on girl I think you’ll like.” My heart stops. Girl. I can’t even talk to boys, how am I supposed to talk to a girl? Mother laughs, “She’s not going to bite you.”

       ………………………………..

Mom’s feet thud agaisnt the tiles of the hospital hallway as she halts in front of a wooden door. Room number thirteen. “Alright,” Mom whispers, grabbing the door knob and twisting it open.

It’s pitch black inside, the only light visible is the moon. “Liliana,” Mom says. Then with a small click a lamp on the bedside table flicks on. I’m shocked when my eyes get used to the bright light. The girl laying in the bed a few feet away from me is beautiful. Not like beautiful, like . . . Beautiful. “Adrain,” Mom’s voice brings me back to the present. “This is Liliana.” I meet Liliana’s eyes. They’re so blue, like the ocean on a sunny morning. “Hey,” I say lifting my hand in a wave, “I’m Adrain.”

(Not like it will happen but like Shadow Queen🖤 has done with some of her stories, I’ll continue this story if this gets 5 likes. I’m like 100% sure it won’t but hey I’m a risk taker. Anyways thanks for reading!)

Mother always brought me with her to visit the terminally ill patients. Even though it’s just because she’s a nurse and needs to work late, so she brings me. I still seem to think it’s because of something else. My mental health. Anxiety is one of the monsters I’m battling. And my social abilities . . . Let’s just say I’ve never really connected with someone.

“Adrian!” Mother calls to me. “Coming!” I call back, tears burning in my eyes. I stare at the empty bed, a bed that used to have Lily. Mother warned me about this. But I couldn’t help myself. Lily was special. One of a kind. The only person I truly loved. “Adrian,” Mother walks to my side. “I know it’s hard.” I turn to face her, “Why!” My voice is loud. Every moment that I ever shared with Lily flashes before my eyes. The walks we took through the streets when she was feeling up to it. The moment when I looked into her pale blue eyes and knew she was who I’ve always been looking for.

“Why?” I ask again my voice cracking as I look at the cold ground. Mother puts a hand on my shoulder, “It’ll get easier. Just know that you gave her the life she’s always wanted. You loved her.” My eyes shoot up from the ground. “I—“ Mother smiles, “Adrian I know.” I feel my face heat up. My first instinct is to tell her she’s wrong. That me and Lily—the most beautiful girl I’d ever met—were nothing more than just friends. “Did she . . .” I look at the ground sighing, “Was it painful for her to . . .” Mother pulls me into a hug, “Shhhhh,” she whispers, “Don’t think about that. Just know that she had a great life.”

……………………….……………………………………….

Adrian,

I want my last words to you to be something you always remember. Because you are someone I’ll always remember. And I know you’ll meet someone new and fall in love but, Adrian I’m saying it now. Even if I get to say it a thousand more times. I want you to know that I love you.

Lily

Oh Dear Sir You life in a letter You still love her Times not for the better

Years have past Now he is ill His love outlast His needs are still

His wife never knew How he loved her too Never telling of you Now dying and blue