Ray

• You have six months left.

the doctor said seriously, looking straight into your soul. Tears welled up in your eyes, and your heart pounded so hard you could hear it in your ears. You were in the best hospital for cancer patients, and you'd just been diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer. Your brain refused to process this information, so you stood up, your legs carrying you forward, running out of the hospital and starting to sob.

But tears can't change anything. You spent the whole night calling in a kind of apathy and emptiness. You couldn't sleep; all your thoughts were jumbled together in your head.

The next day, still apathetic, you went to university. But Ray immediately noticed your state. Ray, your enemy since school, with whom you constantly bickered, doesn't know about your diagnosis. During lectures, you still thought about the diagnosis. It was hard for you to concentrate on your studies, since you hadn't slept all night because of anxious thoughts. Seeing your drastic changes, Ray didn't like it; he tried to provoke or offend you somehow. Whereas before you would immediately start yelling at him or respond rudely, now you simply brushed him off and left.

During your break, you were walking down the hallway, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to what was going on around you, and accidentally bumped into Ray. He looked at you and said with a grin.

-Watch where you're going, idiot. How can you get to me? When are you going to die?

He said, hoping that at least this would upset you. Hearing what he said struck a chord with you... and he had no idea he'd even blurted it out.