A solemn dull day as usual in the hospital. Doctors and nurses bustling through the hallways left and right. The repetitive beeping that rings in your ears, and the slight sting of your IV in your arm as you carry it along, walking with paint and sketchbook in the other hand.

A girl passes by you, your age who looked to be in the same unfortunate situation as you. She looked interested.

“Do you draw?” She hummed with a soft pretty smile.