“Don’t,” I gasped out. It was the only word I could think to say. It was the only sound I could get out except for the occasional gurgle as my throat tried to open up enough to breathe.
But there was no remorse in this man, and his grip became even tighter. “It’ll all be over soon,” he told me. He had the audacity to press a kiss to my temple. If I wasn’t dying, I would have kneed him in the groin for that.
But I was dying.
I knew in my soul I wasn’t coming out of this room alive, and the realization of that hurt much more than I thought it would because not only would my life be lost, but Mikey would lose any chance of getting the treatment he needed.
As my limbs grew too heavy for me to lift, and the fight drained from my body, I closed my eyes. Tears were falling uncontrollably, and I despised myself for allowing this man to see me cry.
“There you go,” he told me. “Almost over.”
As I passed out, my last thoughts were of my little brother’s face as it had been several years ago. Plump, healthy, and happy. That image was the one I would take with me into death, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a relative sense of peace come over me.
I’d fought for a long time, and now, I might finally be able to rest. That was my last thought before the darkness took me.