There had to be a way they could both be together. There had to be a way Alexa AND Stephen could both survive this. Stephen sat on the wooden stool in his room and twirled his drumstick viciously. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep thought. There was a knock at his door. Stephen was dragged back into reality. Quickly, he sat up and stopped twirling. "Who is it?" he yelled. The person on the other side stopped knocking and walked in. It was his little sister AnnMarie. "Stephen, Mom wants to talk to you downstairs. I think it's about your girlfriend," she squeeked in an obnoxious tone. Stephen held his head and pointed with his drumstick to his open bedroom door. "Out, Annie." "But-" "OUT!" She bit her puffy bottom lip and trotted out with a sob. He felt bad, but Stephen really didn't want to talk to anyone about Alexa's surgery. His mom would only make things worse and his sister would just annoy him by asking, "What's going on?","What's wrong, Stevie?", and "Is it about Alexa?" She was going to die if he didn't do something quick. The only outcome of the entire thing would be one of them dying.
Alexa deserves so much more than me; so much more life than me, Stephen thought. His depression was beginning to return. In fact, it returned the minute Alexa told him on that bright June afternoon that she needed a heart transplant. HIS heart almost stopped beating. He did plan to marry her. He did plan to spend the rest of his life with her. He planned to have her in his arms forever. He planned to die with her. The tough truth of the matter is that Stephen couldn't survive without Alexa.
Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. If he gave her his heart Alexa would live. The thought of him dying hadn't crossed his mind, only that she would be alive. That's all that mattered to him. Ever so slowly, Stephen crossed his bedroom floor with strenuous, long strides. His green eyes were wide and blank. He let himself lead his body into the small white bathroom of his house. The mirror cabinet above the sink was slightly cracked at the corner and half open. There were shaving blades on the top shelf, he knew. Stephen reached his hand up and took one with a shudder as his fingers touched the cold metal.
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Alexa woke up. The beeps had ceased and there was only a low buzzing sound. Her eyes were
Alexa deserves so much more than me; so much more life than me, Stephen thought. His depression was beginning to return. In fact, it returned the minute Alexa told him on that bright June afternoon that she needed a heart transplant. HIS heart almost stopped beating. He did plan to marry her. He did plan to spend the rest of his life with her. He planned to have her in his arms forever. He planned to die with her. The tough truth of the matter is that Stephen couldn't survive without Alexa.
Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. If he gave her his heart Alexa would live. The thought of him dying hadn't crossed his mind, only that she would be alive. That's all that mattered to him. Ever so slowly, Stephen crossed his bedroom floor with strenuous, long strides. His green eyes were wide and blank. He let himself lead his body into the small white bathroom of his house. The mirror cabinet above the sink was slightly cracked at the corner and half open. There were shaving blades on the top shelf, he knew. Stephen reached his hand up and took one with a shudder as his fingers touched the cold metal.
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Alexa woke up. The beeps had ceased and there was only a low buzzing sound. Her eyes were
