This Year's Wish: Please Let Me Live

Bowie's POV

Fireworks flashed outside the window. They shone in Esther Garcia's gentle eyes. She asked softly, "Bowie, what did you wish for this year?"

I looked into her eyes, finding the warmth I had longed for all year.

I carefully leaned closer and whispered, "I wished that you'd love me forever."

She froze for a moment. Then, she opened her arms and pulled me into her embrace.

It was so tight that I could barely breathe.

She smelled faintly of perfume. As my cheek pressed against her soft sweater, my eyes stung with tears.

Her voice came from above my head, carrying a hint of a smile. "You silly boy. Of course I love you. As long as you're good and Bruce survives, I'll love you forever."

I nodded fervently, rubbing my tears against her sweater.

Esther only ever hugged me when I made a wish, so I had waited a whole year for this, all the way from last New Year's Day until today.

When I reached out to hug her back, she had already let go. Then she cupped my face with both hands, wiping away my tears.

"You're such a good boy, Bowie," she said. "Since I granted your wish, will you grant my wish and help Bruce one more time?"

I nodded. It was always like this, and I had long grown used to it.

"Bruce's heart is getting weaker," she said, her voice remaining soft. "The doctor said he needs a healthy heart. Bowie, are you willing to give yours to him? I'll take you to the hospital tomorrow for a donor match test. If it matches, Bruce will live. You want him to live too, right?"

I looked into her expectant eyes and gentle smile.

"Okay," I whispered.

Esther's smile immediately lit up. She hugged me once more—this time brief and light. "I knew you're the best," she said.

As she stood up to cut the cake, the living room door was suddenly pushed open.

My adoptive brother, Bruce Easton, walked in bundled up in a thick down jacket. His cheeks were flushed red from the biting cold wind, but his eyes were shining brightly.

"Mom! The countdown event at the plaza is starting! Lily said she can get us into the front row for the fireworks!" Bruce said excitedly. Lily Warren was our housekeeper.

Esther immediately set down the cake knife and walked over to him, gently brushing the snow off his shoulders. "Sweetheart, slow down, or you're going to start coughing. It's so cold outside. Why don't we wait until after your surgery?" she said.

"I want to go!" Bruce tugged at her hand, pleading. "It only happens once a year! Besides, the doctor said I'm stable right now…"

Esther turned to look at me, then back at Bruce's eager face. That glance was fleeting, too brief for me to decipher the emotion behind it.

"Alright, alright. But only for a little while. Don't tire yourself out," she said, relenting.

Her tone carried a level of doting tenderness I'd never heard directed at me.

Then she turned to me and said, "Bowie, you have to go to the hospital tomorrow for your match test, so rest early tonight. You're not coming."

I opened my mouth, wanting to say that I wanted to see the fireworks too—real ones.

When I made my wish at six years old, Esther had promised me she'd take me to see fireworks. I still remembered her smiling face as she said, "Of course. Once you help Bruce, I'll take you."

Yet after I donated my bone marrow on the operating table back then, she only patted my head and said, "We'll watch the fireworks next time. Bruce can't wait."

The words died in my throat.

She was already leading him out the door, without looking back once.

"Bowie, don't eat anything after the cake. You need to fast tomorrow."

The door clicked shut.