she doesn't need a mirror to see her disheveled face. disfigured. she is beyond exasperated. of course she knows.

i don't have to tell her that she needs to pace her breath. if she doesn't want to, she shouldn't be forced to.

shaking fingers. her unquelled hands were quaking unsatiably. i honestly wanted to stop them of course but how could i?

she was in pain. just as the doctors had always anticipated.

of course something had to be done, right?

yet all i could do is hold her hand as she rapidly slips away. it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it would only hurt her a lot longer if i kept her beside me anyway.

i had to admit it of course, there was nothing else i could do. what would would i know about leukemia and holes in her heart. the doctors kept explaining but how could i understand.

they gave us the option of taking away all her agony...

honestly, i can't blame her when she agreed...

trust me i wanted to make it stop. i honestly tried to voice out my protest but she never looked so peaceful. so indulgent. so serene. almost mesmerised. in bliss.

as the machinery were slowly being pulled off her chest i never felt her breathe such a strong tepid air. the nurses assisted her in sitting upright. trust me it was brutal. but the tears from her eyes, i felt it drop down my hand, it was the warmest drop of water, a drop of life my skin had ever touched.

she smiled. much like how she smiles whenever she'd come home after acing an exam or after an afternoon bike-ride around the neighborhood. so innocent. so beautiful. so—

i scan her face in silence trying to find the right adjective to describe her by but i just can force my mind to think straight...

"so you."

i chuckle out as i close in to listen to what remains of her raw heartbeats just as the nurse inserts the syringe in the joint of her arm.

she doesn't even scream at it anymore, she's so accustomed to the feel of needles against her skin.

"papa," she asks, "why are you laughing?"

she asks, in a voice much louder than she's been speaking for the past few weeks.

"because this is the warmest you've ever been."

"but you're crying."

"i'm just proud of you."

i whisper embracing her, pressing her head as tight as i possibly could to my chest.

i could feel it. never did her heart beat any louder than this. never did her blood flow any faster than this.

never was she more alive than know.

"papa, don't hug me too tight, i can't breathe."

she says but she doesn't really try to push away as i place my hands instead on her tiny 10-year-old face.

"don't worry, it's only just a matter of seconds and you don't have to be with papa anymore."

as i looked at her with this hopeful look she turns into puzzle pieces. like she was a shattered jigsaw mat.

"what do you mean papa? are you going away?"

"no, baby, you're leaving for somewhere safe."

she struggles. but she stutters more than she could speak.

seconds... minutes...

i don't know how long the poison is supposed to kick in but all i know is that she isn't at peace.

it is terrible. almost like she didn't know what she was agreeing to when she said she doesn't want to be hurt anymore.

"baby i thought you didn't want to be in pain? this is the best papa could do."

all she does is replace the look of disaster in her face to this horrifying husk of a smile.

"but papa, i'm not in pain!"
"see! i'm smiling"

she takes my hands with her trembling fingers and tries with all her might to clasp them together.

"i'm okay papa, promise. i don't have to leave. i don't want to leave!"

she panics leaving me speechless. the doctors all said this is for her own good if she doesn't want to suffer.

honestly, all i can see in her smile is suffering. and yet this is the most she's smiled in months since she got diagnosed with leukemia.

right now it doesn't feel like mercy... just killing.

"but the doctors said this is for your own good."

"but everywhere else is so cold!" she almost shouts in protest, "it's always warmer with papa."

she embraces me. no words left to say. she just latched on and holds on as tight as she could. no wiring. no tube. no machine in the way. just her. so tepid. so alive.

seconds passed... nothing.
minutes... nothing.
it felt like eternity...
but suddenly she spoke:

"papa? papa are you still there?"
"papa where are you?"
"i could hear you sobbing papa, i know you're out there!"
"papa can you hear me?"
"papa it's not funny, it's getting colder."

she chokes out.

"papa i need you please it's so cold."