The Last Wish

It was 1:30 am, of course, pretty late. A little boy, around 10 years old, was lying in a hospital bed with his arms swollen because of the needles. He was in a terrible state. Even though he was exhausted and his body ached, he couldn't seem to fall asleep. There was a heavy feeling deep in his chest, a mix of sadness and quiet determination. Tears had stained his cheeks earlier, but now he wiped them away, trying to be brave. His mind spun with a thousand thoughts: fear for what was coming, guilt at having to say goodbye, and a desperate hope that his last words might bring comfort to the friend he loved so much. This cute, charming little boy, who ended up in a hospital in a very miserable condition, was now pouring all his feelings into a final letter to his best friend. His small hands trembled slightly as he held the pen, every word feeling like both a burden and a relief.

He was writing his final letter to his best friend, with whom he had probably spent a few months or years and shared a very strong, deep connection. His last wish was not money, fame, or power. It was simple and deeply emotional: he wanted his friends to forgive themselves for leaving. This was the only wish he had.

He wrote a full letter, writing out all the time he had spent together, starting from the time in kindergarten, which he had very blurry memories of. His arms began to pain as he was just continuously writing with a pen nibble, scribbling against a paper in the quiet hour. It was now 3 a.m., and he was still writing. His fingers trembled and pained while he just continued to write out the handwritten message, a very long one. It seemed like a mini booklet itself.

nor did he touch any food nor any water all of his focus was writing all the moments that they had spent together because he knew that today was his end and he was really the kind of person who really cared about others friends animals he did not care who the other person was he would care even for the non-living thing it was Hardly imaginable even for the doctors over there to believe such a kind of such a kind of a kind. So what do we think about such a terrible lifestyle? right here And the boy even though he knew of his destiny he just Beg forgiveness from his friends by reciting the old tale starting from how they used to play in this kindergarten, spending time at the school trips, talking of his junior school where they used to make clay models, participating in competitions, where sometimes they would even do mini picnics and go for small little house warming parties and many more. The only thing that broke him was that he was going to leave his best friend, the one who had always supported him, the one who was autistic, and no one else could understand him. They were a perfect pair, an introvert and an autistic guy, and an extrovert, but right now he was quite kind of quiet busy in his old work. Finally, he was done with this letter, and he kept the pen on the counter, and he just fell back unconscious. After a while, when his parents came to check on him, they were astonished, and they rushed to call the doctors and the nurses. He was headed back to the ICU after the operation. The doctors I've heard all but none of them no pulse remained he was gone for a final time and it was the time for the goodbye his parents cried begged hard but yes the destiny was already fated the life was already gone the soul was already reaching the places palaces of the heaven so how could they bring it back to the mortal world following the next day as per the handwritten note and the request from their only son which stated that he wished to give to his best friend they indeed took it to his home and gave it to his best friend and what came next broke each of them down into tears.

That, as he started reading the writings which were written in the twinkling manner, it simply said on the first page, "Read this only when you're ready." At first, Ethan avoided it. The grief was too heavy. Every page felt like reopening a wound and a past memory of their life together. Then, weeks later, on a sleepless night when he finally could not resist himself, he started reading. The notebook was not full of goodbye letters; it contained memories of the time they had spent together.

Also, the dumb jokes they laughed at for hours, the ones they got detention for. Also, for one time, Ethan cried after failing an exam and thought nobody had noticed, but the whole class had circulated the picture in the group chat.

Then the tone changes. His friend had written about how he always felt guilty while watching this: Ethan was slowly losing himself trying to stay strong for everyone, even though he was facing autism, and he was trying to deal with the situation and had so many helpful people alongside him, with the constant bullying and the time he had with the final mark on the wound. He had spent so much time trying not to disappoint people that he forgot to live for himself, and this hit the mark. It was meant to save him, too. On the final page, it finally read: the one wish that he wished, the one he had, a simple request: when he was gone, don't turn their memories into a graveyard. Live enough for both of them, even for the remaining part of him, and stay and keep the memories forever intact, not out of love because he would finally understand.

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