All I wished for was death.
The only precious things I had were my long, beautiful hair… and my little brother.
But I lost them both.
Cancer took them from me.
Yes… I’m a cancer patient now.
My world has turned dark in this big hospital room. My body holds no more hope. I don’t want to survive anymore. I no longer wish to be a burden to my parents.
I can’t bear the pain anymore.
“Mommy… Daddy… please take me home…” I screamed.
But no one could help.
My treatment ended for the day, and I was resting in Room 713. The room was silent, but inside me, the pain screamed louder than ever.
My body keeps getting weaker.
Even with strong painkillers, I still feel it — the pain that burns through me.
Things got worse today. My parents decided to move me to a local hospital.
A new hospital. A new room. A new atmosphere.
There were five other children in the room. They were all playing together. I sat in my wheelchair as Mom pushed me inside. Everyone stared at me like I didn’t belong.
I wanted to talk, but no one even asked my name.
So I said, “Hi, I’m Kaelyn Fleur. I’m 7 years old. Nice to meet you, my friends.”
They began introducing themselves — everyone except one boy. He lay in bed, silent.
“Hey, what’s your name?” I asked.
He didn’t say a word.
Still, I played with the others. It brought me a little relief.
That boy still won’t talk to me.
Today, I drew a picture of all my roommates. I showed it to him, hoping he’d like it.
But he took my drawing, crushed it, and said, “Don’t you dare draw me, you blah-blah girl!”
I stayed silent.
He was so cruel.
I promised myself I wouldn’t talk to him again.
This morning, I had severe pain again.
The doctors rushed in.
“What disease does she have?” one of them asked.
“Sir, she’s a cancer patient,” the nurse replied.
Everyone in the room was shocked — even that boy.
Later, I was moved to another room. Guess what? It was the same room I had in the previous hospital — Room 713.
Lucky me… haha. Just kidding.
That afternoon, while I was lying in bed, the door creaked open.
It was quiet.
I turned to my left and saw the same boy standing there.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Felix Lane. I’m 10 years old. Nice to meet you, Kaelyn Fleur.”
He smiled brightly.
He was actually kind of cute.
I just nodded and turned to my right.
He came around to the other side and handed me two drawings — mine, all crushed, and his version of it.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I’m not good at drawing, but I tried to copy yours.”
I looked at his drawing. It was cute. Just like him.
“I like it, Felix. It’s good.”
He held my hand gently. “Can we be friends?”
I was surprised, but I smiled.
“Yes,” I said.
“Okay, Kaelyn. Take care. I’ll be back soon!” he said, then ran off.
Actually… Felix is really good.
Felix and I have become very close.
I asked him why he was in the hospital.
“Oh, my right hand is fractured,” he said. “It’s taking a while to heal, so I’m staying here longer. But I’ll be with you until you go home.”
He doesn’t even know what cancer really is… and I don’t want to tell him.
Because if I do go home, it might only be my body — not my spirit.
Still, I smiled.
Suddenly, he took a picture of me with his little Polaroid camera.
“Smile again!” he said.
He gave me the second picture. “This smile’s better! Keep it. I’ll keep the first one.”
“Why?” I asked.
“To remember this moment,” he said, grinning childishly.
It’s my birthday.
Mommy and Daddy surprised me with my favorite doll and a cake. I turned 8 today.
Later, at 12:11 p.m., Felix came in with a box full of tiny paper hearts.
“What’s this?” I asked.
He smiled. “My mom told me a story about a girl who saved her brother by making 1,000 paper hearts. So I’m making them for you… so you can get better and play with me again.”
I laughed.
“And after I grow up… I’ll marry you!” he said proudly.
“Marry me? Haha!”
“Yes! But only if you get well.”
I smiled wider than I ever had.
And for the first time…
I wished to live.
Felix was discharged today. He hugged me tightly and whispered,
“Don’t forget me, okay?”
I didn’t cry. I smiled and said,
“I won’t.”
After he left, I looked at the paper hearts he had made.
986 so far.
I held the photo he gave me close to my chest — the one where he said, “This smile is better.”
The room was quiet. The pain had faded for now.
The sky outside was pink — just like my favorite doll.
I whispered,
“Thank you… for letting me feel alive.”
Later that morning, as sunlight streamed through the hospital window, I took my last breath.
All I wanted was to see Felix… but I couldn’t.
I wasn’t sure when my last wish would leave my body. With trembling hands, I pasted the Polaroid he gave me onto the final page of my diary and began to write:
Hey Felix,
This is me, your friend Kaelyn Fleur.
This letter is to thank you — for making me happy during my last days.
There was a time when I wished to die. But the moment we became friends, I began to wish to live… to spend more time laughing with you, playing, drawing, and smiling.
But this is my destiny, and life won’t give me the chance to stay.
Now, I’m happy — with your memory tha…
Her pen slipped from her weakening fingers.
The ink smudged slightly on the last word: “tha…”
The sentence remained unfinished — a quiet testament to a life cut short and a friendship that bloomed briefly but brightly.
The Polaroid picture — capturing two innocent smiles — lay pressed against the page, a tangible memory of the connection that lit up Kaelyn’s final days.
When her parents entered the room, they found her still and peaceful, the diary open beside her. As they read her final words, their tears flowed freely — sorrow and gratitude pouring through them in equal measure.
They knew how much Felix had meant to their little girl.
So, they decided to fulfill her last unspoken wish.
They reached out to Felix’s parents and, with gentle hearts, shared the news of Kaelyn’s passing — along with the letter she never got to finish.
A few days later, a young boy with a healing hand arrived at Kaelyn’s funeral, clutching a slightly faded Polaroid in his small fingers. His eyes were swollen with tears.
He walked slowly to Kaelyn’s parents, his voice barely above a whisper:
“Kaelyn… she was my best friend.”
He handed them the picture he had kept close to his heart.
“She gave me this,” he said.
Kaelyn’s parents embraced him tightly, their tears meeting his.
They told him stories of Kaelyn, of how his friendship had brought joy and strength to her final days.
They showed him her unfinished letter — the ink-smudged word, the love between the lines.
Felix kept the letter and the picture tucked safely inside his most treasured box.
He never forgot Kaelyn — the brave little girl who taught him about love, resilience, and the magic of kindness, even in the briefest moments.
He carried her memory with him forever —
A silent promise to live a life filled with gentleness and light…
Just as she had wished.
Join the Discussion