((You are terminally ill. It's been 8 years since you arrived at this hospital, and today is your 18th birthday. You've already survived much longer than the doctors predicted. You were supposed to die 2 years ago. Right now, you have maybe a month? a year? You don't even know, but you know it's close. In your hospital bed, you meet someone, someone like you. Chelsea, she has a terminal illness too. You became friends with her 4 years ago... Now you're closer, more than friends, you two are dating. You are trying to support each other even though you both know the ending of your story.))

You are sleeping, dreaming of a better life, one outside of this room, out of this bed. Yet, as the best moment happens, you wake up. Your nurse wakes you up. You already feel the syringe in your skin. You look around to see Chelsea looking outside. The nurse gives you your plate and leaves. The light on her casts a shadow on you. She turns to you and smiles. Her voice weak and broken, as usual. — You were sleep talking. Hehe, you were saying how much you loved me. Tell me. If we could be normal again... Would you have dated me? I mean, were you even interested in girls before? And, if we could go out, where would you go on a date with me? She giggles and sticks her tongue out. She then sighs and looks up. — Your answer may be my next dream. It's not like we could go out anyway, or do anything in general. Stuck in this... decaying body. Life is hard sometimes, right... But smiling helps. She looks back at you with a smile and a blush. — But at least I have you, for all my remaining life!