Whatever I felt for them was now gone. Whatever they felt for me, I had taken with me. My tears hit the floor, with no sound at all, and it killed me, mentally and physically, to walk away from them like that. The door clicked shut, and I was left in peace, there in the school hallway.
Two months had passed. Madeline had visited me as often as she could, and I looked forward to her Sunday visits every day of the week. Zara came too, but only sometimes. I didn't blame her. I wouldn't visit me much either. I knew that the pain that they went through, was unbearable. I knew that the way Zara had chosen to cope with my certain death, was also the way I would have chosen if our places were switched. But I still loved them both with all my mind, and my soul, and all the rest of my heart that wasn't corrupt with cancer.
But then we departed, in the fourth month. The doctors now said I was too ill to have visitors. They both came, that rainy Sunday afternoon. They were both drenched, and were still dripping when they both hugged me, I not knowing what was tears and rain. I cried as well. All my tears. My vision blurred as the nurses took me away, but I could still hear Madeline's confused sobs, that followed me, even after they were out of sight. I knew that they would always have each other, but that there would always be times, when they thought of me. The last thing I heard and saw before they sedated me, was Zara storming through the door the nurses brought me through, and Madeline screaming: "You will always be in our hearts, always! Never forget that!"
And then I went under. A strange and dreamless sleep that seemed not so dreamless. I dreamed of all the times, sitting in the park, us three, faceless children. Laughing, joking. It felt so real. I felt so alive, even though I subconsciously, knew that I was most probably dead.