"Samantha," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. "What are we doing?" "Item seven.." I whispered, trying for lightness but hearing the tremor in my voice. "Crossing it off the list." ~ Fresh out of high school, Samantha knows two truths: she's madly in love with her best friend Rafael, and she'll never live to see him graduate college. So she creates a bucket list, determined to experience everything life offers, especially the taste of his kiss, before her secret claims her last breath. But time is quickly running out.... will she make it out alive?
View MoreSAMANTHA
~ The polyester graduation gown felt like sandpaper against my skin as I shifted uncomfortably behind the podium. My chest tightened, the familiar herald of an oncoming cough, but I swallowed it down. Not now. Not during my valedictorian speech. "As we stand at the threshold of our futures," I continued, scanning the crowd of my classmates, their faces a blur of anticipation and boredom, "we carry with us not just the knowledge imparted by our teachers, but the memories we've created together." My gaze found Rafael in the third row, his dark eyes meeting mine with that familiar sardonic lift of his eyebrow. Even in the shapeless graduation gown, he managed to look dangerous, all sharp angles and barely contained energy. His mortarboard sat crookedly on his mess of black hair, like he'd thrown it on as an afterthought. Which he probably had. I'd had to practically drag him to the ceremony. "It's just a piece of paper Sunny," he'd said, using the nickname only he was allowed. "Not like I'm gonna do anything with it." "You're going to walk across that stage if I have to carry you myself Shade," I'd responded, using my own exclusive nickname for him. The look on his face had been worth the argument. The tickle in my throat intensified, and I discreetly reached for the water bottle hidden behind the podium. Three small sips. Breathe. Continue. "Our paths may diverge," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady, "but the connections we've forged will remain, invisible threads binding us to this place and to each other." I found Rafael again, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. He knew that line was for him. As I finished my speech to polite applause, Principal Winters took over, beginning the interminable process of calling names. I sank into my chair on the stage, pressing my graduation program against my mouth as the cough I'd been suppressing finally broke free. I muffled it as best I could, grateful for the drone of names and periodic applause that masked the sound. "You okay?" Liz , one of my classmates whispered from beside me. She'd been eyeing me suspiciously for weeks now, ever since I'd had to bow out of our final Academic Decathlon meeting due to a 'cold' . "Fine." I mouthed, straightening as the name 'Rafael Moreno' echoed through the speakers. Raf sauntered across the stage with deliberate slowness, his gait screaming rebellion against the whole ceremony. Principal Winters' smile tightened as she handed him his diploma, no doubt remembering the countless detentions and disciplinary hearings. I bit back a smile. For all his posturing, I knew Rafael had graduated with honors in subjects he pretended not to care about. He caught my eye as he crossed the stage, flashing me a quick wink that the crowd couldn't see. My heart did that stupid little flip it always did around him. Seven years of this crush, and I still hadn't built up an immunity. The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. When we finally tossed our caps into the air—mine going a pathetic three feet before floating down, Rafael's sailing clear over the bleachers—the crowd erupted in cheers. "Samantha!" My sister May's voice cut through the chaos. At twenty-four, she looked both older and younger than her age, worry lines around her eyes but youthful excitement in her smile. She waved frantically, camera in hand. "Over here!" I made my way through the crowd, accepting hugs and congratulations from classmates I'd probably never see again. May enveloped me in a fierce hug when I reached her, smelling of vanilla and the cinnamon she'd been baking with that morning. "I'm so proud of you." she whispered, and I felt my throat tighten with emotion instead of illness for once. "Thanks...for everything," I said, knowing the words were inadequate. After our parents died, May had dropped out of high school to keep us together, working multiple jobs until we saved enough to open our bakery. She'd sacrificed her own future for mine, a debt I could never repay, especially now."I don't know how to do this," I confessed. "How to be here without you. How to wake up every morning knowing you won't be there. How to go through all the fucking motions of living when you're gone."I traced her name on the headstone, the letters cold and unyielding beneath my fingers. "But I promised. And you always said I never break my promises."It was true. In our decade of friendship and the few months as more than friends, I'd never once broken a promise to Sam. No matter how small or seemingly insignificant, if I said I'd do something, I did it. She'd trusted that about me completely."So I'll try..." I whispered. "I'll go to MIT like we planned. I'll build those robots we talked about. I'll look after Midnight."The mention of the cat brought a fresh wave of pain. Sam had rescued Midnight three years ago, a half starved stray who followed her home from the bakery. He'd become her shadow, seemingly aware of her illness in the uncanny way animals sometimes are. He'd curl up
The quarry stretched before me, a gaping mouth of darkness swallowing the last traces of daylight. I folded Sam's letter carefully, tucking it into my jacket pocket, and walked to the edge of the cliff. Forty feet below, black water lapped against jagged rock, the same water where Sam and I had swum naked under the moon.I closed my eyes, feeling the emptiness yawn inside me. It would be so fucking easy. One quick turn of the handlebars, one moment of acceleration. Then nothing. No more ache. No more waking up to a world without her in it.I turned back to Persephone, my hand running along her sleek frame. Sam had named the motorcycle, claiming that since she sent me to the underworld regularly with my reckless driving, Persephone was the only appropriate choice. "Queen of the Underworld," she'd said, tracing the curves of the gas tank. "Beautiful but dangerous."Like Sam herself.I swung my leg over the seat, feeling the familiar vibration as the engine roared to life. The headlig
Sam's handwriting filled sheet after sheet, some portions written in her neat, careful script, others in a more hurried scrawl that I recognized from her bad days when breathing was difficult and concentration limited.{ My dearest Shade,If you're reading this, I'm gone. (Sorry for the cliché opening, but there's really no good way to start a letter like this)First, I want you to know how much I love you. Present tense, because even though I'm not there anymore, my love for you doesn't end just because I did. That's not how it works. Love doesn't disappear, it transforms. Maybe into memory, maybe into starlight, maybe just into the person left behind who carries it forward.I know you're angry right now. Angry at the world, at the disease, maybe even at me for leaving you. That's okay. I'd be furious too. Be angry. Throw things. Scream at the sky. Curse my name if you need to. I won't be offended, I promise.But don't stay there, Rafael. Don't let the anger harden into something per
I considered telling him to go fuck himself, but the energy required seemed immense.Instead, I refilled my glass and followed him back into the living room.The next hour passed in a blur of meaningless conversations. I accepted condolences, nodded at stories about Sam, and drank steadily from both my glass and the flask. The alcohol dulled the edges of my consciousness but did nothing for the hollow ache in my chest."You doing ok?" Dr. Aaron asked, appearing at my side as I stared blindly out the back window."Fantastic," I replied flatly.He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know there's nothing I can say. Just... we're all worried about you.""Don't be." I took another drink. "I'm fine.""Rafael — ""She suffered," I interrupted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "At the end, she was in pain. Even with the morphine. You didn't see it because she hid it when you were there, but I saw. I was there all night, every night. I heard her crying when she thought
I didn't cry during the funeral. Not when they lowered her casket into the ground. Not when May completely broke down during her eulogy. Not even when Midnight, who I'd somehow smuggled into the cemetery inside my jacket, escaped my grasp to paw at the fresh dirt covering Sam's grave.I felt nothing. A vast, echoing emptiness where my heart used to be.The cemetery was packed, Sam had touched more lives than she'd ever realized. Her classmates, regulars from the bakery, even teachers who remembered the brilliant girl who'd never let her 'asthma' hold her back. Dr Aaron stood stoically beside his wife Karen, who kept shooting concerned glances my way. Damien hovered nearby, uncharacteristically subdued in a borrowed suit. Jennifer had closed shop for the day, bringing her entire staff to pay respects.Even Marcus showed up, standing at a respectful distance with red-rimmed eyes. I couldn't bring myself to hate him anymore. Not when I'd seen his genuine grief when the trial medication
By the time I finished, tears were streaming freely down my face. Sam reached up, brushing them away with trembling fingers."That's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever written for me," she whispered.I shook my head, unable to speak through the knot in my throat."Rafael," she said, her voice suddenly stronger, demanding my attention. "Look at me please.."I met her gaze, those brown eyes still so vibrant in her pale face."I need you to promise me something.""Anything," I repeated, meaning it completely."Live," she said simply. "Not just exist. Not just go through the motions. Really live, enough for both of us."I started to shake my head, but she pressed a finger to my lips."You can do it," she insisted. "You're the strongest person I've ever known, even if you don't see it. Promise me you'll try.""I promise," I whispered against her finger, the words a covenant I wasn't sure I could keep but would die trying.She smiled then, soft and sad and somehow peaceful. "I'm tired,
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