A strand of dirty blonde hair fell onto her pale face, like a waterfall; she brushed it away quickly, wincing in pain from the sharp movements. The pink tips of her hair had nearly faded, just like her and her personality. She turned her focus back to small, rectangular piece of paper and cardboard box in her hand, throws her head back, closing her eyes and mutters a few words.
A black and white photograph of a blonde haired, blue eyed irish boy lay in her trembling fingers, still and silent. A rattling sound came from the box of one hundred small sticks of wood against limp cardboard.
She tried to suppress the sigh coming up to her mouth, failing, a loud huff coming through her light purple, freezing lips. A faint glisten appeared in her light green eye, like a diamond in the sky. It slowly fell down her face as she inhaled slowly, and turned her attention back to what she was doing.
From a distance, she was a small, weak girl, on a big, lonely hospital bed, knowing her time was nearly over. But inside, she was a roaring fire, raging and alive, determined to keep her eyes open for just one more day.
With a deep breath, she turned the camera on. And slowly, she took one of the sticks out of the box, rubbing it against the side, causing a small but dangerous flame to ignite. Taking a deep breath, she touched it to the picture. Slowly, it blackened out the edges and began to spread accross the whole photograph of the oblivious, innocent little boy.
"I'm sorry Nialler, I have to do this," she whispers, the tears now waterfalling down her cheeks. "I know you loved me and god, I loved you with all my heart but it never could've worked. We lived in totally different worlds, no matter how hard we would try, it would never work. I'm really sorry Niall."
The flames had now burnt half of the picture; she held the picture to show the camera.
"I'm sorry babe, but I have to tell you now. I have a brain tumor, which means I'm going to die. I don't have long left babe, I'm sorry I haven't told you before, I just didn't want you to stop everything and come see me, especially since our relationship is forbidden," she sobs, just as the flames burn the picture to crisps.
Turning the camera off, she hurries to pull o t the tape, and stuff it into an envelope labelled 'Niall.' And just as her fingers seal up the last part of the envelope, her eyes droop close.
And the flashing lights and the larm bells begin to ring