Emphasis Preaching Journal

Crystal wheeled herself over to Billy's room. He had come in last night after a relapse and she was determined to cheer him up. She knew him so well and knew he would be furious at waking up in the hospital. She knew all about cancer: at eleven she had been living with it for five years. She also knew her time was very short. Crystal's eyesight was very poor now, but she could see that Billy's room was quiet and dark. She wheeled herself up to his bed and took his hand. It was warm. "Billy, it's Crystal. You remember me from a few months ago. With the hamster hair? I got about five more hairs that grew in since then. I look really cool. My mom said not even to bother with the wig or scarves anymore. I won't be leaving here anyway." She could hear his steady breath and the rhythmic sounds of the machines hooked up in several places. She put the bed rail down and leaned on his arm. "I heard you are in relapse. Don't get too down about it. It's happened to me lots of times and I got out of it. And besides, you need to get better. You said you'd sing a gospel song at my funeral so it won't be so boring. You'll still do that, won't you? We're still friends for life and for heaven." Crystal remained there a long while before quietly wheeling herself back to her own room, not even noticing Billy's parents who were sitting in the corner.
-- Berg