She lay there on that hospital bed, just like all the terminally ill patient.
But her eyes had not resigned, but peaceful and quiet.
She turned up at him, smiling, with those deep eyes.
Softly, as she always did, as she had always done.
He took her hand and spoke, his voice too quiet because of anxiety that was held inside.
He was pervaded by pain.
After all she had done for him.
She had saved his life, she had helped him to build a life.
She had given him a new one.
Now she could not die, not after everything she had done.
His eyes became moist, but he held back his tears.
He did not want to cry, not to scare her.
"You must promise me one thing," she said suddenly, as the voice broken with tears and so weak, "You must promise me that whatever happens, you do'll overwhelm by pain.
I know you will feel pain, anger, hate, but you will not let them take over, right?
Remember what I said about the wings of the soul? ".
How can I forget. They were walking in a park.
It was a beautiful spring afternoon, one of those afternoons when the cool wind caresses your face and makes you feel full of life, expectations and hopes.
It was a little over a year since she had found him in the alley, and had saved his life
The shadow of the trees hid the sun over their heads and dyed the grass patches of lighter and darker.
She was at her side and held his hand.
He could feel the freshness of her fingers on the skin and the delicacy of her touch.
Every so often he crossed some boys, who recognized him.
They saw in him the drug boy he had been, the villain of the neighborhood, the thief who often broke the car windows and stealing car radios and sell them and buy his dose.
They did not believe he had really changed, they were suspicious, and he understood them.
Probably he has been the same, in their place.
As they could not believe that a girl like her was with him.
She so beautiful, sunny, cheerful, kind and gentle with everyone, she had gone to seek HIM, a thief junkie now close to death.
They did not understand that she chose him for this, she was able to see in him exactly what was hidden from the others.
They had gone to sit on top of a hill in the park and watched the clear sky through the trees, while the rays of sunlight seeped through the leaves and the grass, they were trying to warm them with their warmth.
"You know what?" suddenly she said, breaking the silence that surrounded them.
"What?" he asked, turning to stare.
"The first time I saw you in that alley ..." she began, and he felt a pang in my chest.
The memory of those moments of his life before he reached her, always made him feel bad.
"Behold, I realized there was something in you. You're special, you're not like the others," she said smiling.
"You mean like other drug addicts?" he asked, a little taste bitter in the mouth.
"I speak not only of them. You are different from ALL others. You're not like other people I know and I knew straight away that day."
He looked up at the treetops and smiled.
He watched in silence as a poet observes a nymph or a fairy.
It looked like one of these two that afternoon.
The rays of the sun filtering through the foliage of the trees lit up the white dress at times, making it shine with gold.
The eyes were bright and inside of them could see the reflection of the leaves and the sun above their heads.
"See," she began again, "I see, in a sense, the soul of people".
He stared at her, he did not even know if its expression was more of disbelief or surprise.
"What do you mean, sorry?".
"Well, not really see that I see thier SOUL, say that I imagine," she explained, still looking towards the sky.
"I see, around people, like the wings."
He watched her silent, not knowing what to answer.
"You take me for crazy, is not it?" Then she asked, laughing and turning in his direction.
"No, no. It's just that I can not understand. You see wings around people?".
"I do not really see, though I imagine. I seem to see something around a person and my imagination do the rest. I imagine something, the wings to be exact."
"And you're telling me that the wings you see are, in a sense, the soul of the people?".
"Exactly. I can see their wings, what I call" feather of the soul"and that reflect what they are actually" she said, looking him in the face.
He stood silently staring, his face concentrated.
"You think I have a screw out of place, is not it?" she joked, laughing.
"No, indeed," he replied, still focused, "I believe you all right."
She went back to fix it, still smiling, "Really?".
"Then I'll tell you what I saw that day. The day I found you. I enter into the alley and saw a guy in the shadows and around him ,departed from his back, two large wings made completely dark.
They were very black, completely made of shade, similar to those of a demon ... ".
He listened in silence, as if conscious of what he'll hear.
"You're telling me," he said finally, "that my soul is black? Well, but I knew to be, I mean, I already know what I am and, in particular, I know what I WAS."
But she shook his head, not leaving her smile.
"I'm not saying that."
When she saw the dubious expression on his face, she continued.
"I saw that day a boy surrounded by shadows and the wings were black, but only apparently. In fact, in the darkness, a light shone. It was faint, pale, yet there was.
A light hidden from view, yet present. "
Sheooked happy, as he looked even more confused than before.
"And what does that mean?" then asked "What was that light?".
"Your true wings" she replied.
A bird flew over them, sometimes illuminated by sun rays, before disappearing again among the trees.
"What does" your true wings? "My wings were not black? They were not the wings of a demon?".
"Apparently so. And those wings were others saw and because you were following the wrong people."
"I was looked in that way, and still am, because I was an addict."
"I know. I'm saying that your soul seemed to be, seemed to be black and dark, but in reality was not so."
She looked at him with a smile serene, even while he struggled to understand.
"Well," he asked finally, "How would my wings? Black or what?".
"Your wings" she replied, "They were not really black. Darkness hampered your heart and hide your true wings, hiding the light that was in you. The light that I saw the first time I met you" .
He looked at her in silence, trying to understand the meaning of those words.
Eventually he made her a single question.
"Now my wings how it is?".
She smiled even more sweetly, "Now your wings are like really should be. No more darkness to cover them" she looked into his eyes, "Now is the beautiful angel wings. White and bright as snow illuminated by the sun."
He looked shocked and she, in that expression, burst out laughing.
"Yes," he said, his voice broken with tears as her "I remember the wings."
"Do not let your angel wings come back as a demon, do not let the darkness come back to cover. Got it? Do not ever allow it.
You are so changed, and I do not want you to come back like before "here she paused and looked at him more earnestly than ever," You've got to live. You go ahead and create you a new life. Maybe even without me, but you have to do it. Promise. "
A tear fell on the face of an angel, reflecting the rays of the moon and illuminating it with diamonds.
"Yes," he said, his voice breaking, "I promise".
A smile of joy, although tinged with a melancholy sadness and suffering, lit up his face.
She hugged him, causing him to bend the sheets on the bed .
"Thanks," she said, holding no more tears, that fell off on the face.
They embraced long.
"Hold me. Please. Do not leave me" she asked through tears.
And he did. He squeezed her, almost as if he would prevent her not to going where she going.
He touched the soft, long hair.
He thought how much longer he could do it and something pierced his heart.
She called him by name and soflty "I'm afraid," she continued, hervoice faint "So afraid. I don't want to leave. I ...".
But he struggled.
Looked into her eyes, frightened and full of silent suffering, and transparent like those of a child.
"For one last time" asked her "please. Give me a kiss. The last. I beg you."
Now no longer he held back the tears, which flowed clear on its face.
She finally smiled as she did at one time and the world faded before that image.
She took his face in her hands and brought his face close to her.
The hands were cool, like petals in the wind.
And she kissed him.
Tears ran down both their faces, those of him slipping on her hands.
The world, as already suspended in time, froze completely.
There were only they, and their kiss.
Their last kiss.
But then her sobs broke the silence.
He looked at her and saw her, her face reflecting a huge pain.
He continued to look, as if in a trance, while the nurses carried him out.
As the door closed, he was as awakened from a dream.
He moved toward the window and looked inside, his hands pressed to the glass.
She was there, her face streaked with tears like rivers of diamonds, illuminated by the moon.
The doctors had not had time to turn on the light, even in the hallway, from which he now watched that scene, as if he were watching a movie on TV.
As if that was not real life, not the reality.
She suffered, but a silent pain.
Like the pain that you feel at the rejection of the person you know to love.
A silent pain as the disease that took her and now was taking away her from him.
Looked like an angel, a fallen angel and suffering, her eyes still closed from the time they kiss.
And then it all ended, as it had begun.
She stopped to get excited, her face grew calm.
The last tears came down her face.
The doctors shook his head slowly.
And the pain came over him.
He screamed with all the air in his body.
Shouted all his pain, his anger, while two doctors held him by the arms and the tears came back to run.
His NO, that night, filled the silence of the hospital.
Now he was there, beside her, or rather what she was.
He had finished his tears, but the pain was still there.
When he entered in the room, he ran to embrace her, crying.
He had never cried so much.
Now the sobs had subsided and he kept his face pressed against her stomach , his head buried in her arms.
The pain, anger, ruled in him.
But all of them addressed to himself.
He had not been able to save her, but she was able to save him from certain death.
He bit his lip until it bled.
He wanted to suffer.
He breathed a long time to calm down.
Her skin was cold, but still smelled sweet and fresh scent that he knew.
He wanted to sleep.
He decided what to do.
He got up and went direct to the room of drugs.
He found it immediately.
Once entered, he searches a syringe and once found, picked it up.
It was cold, as her hands.
As his heart at that moment.
He rummaged through the shelves and finally found it.
A drug which when administered in excessive doses, leads to death.
He was a drug addict, he knew all these things.
And for once, it turned out to be really useful.
He filled the entire syringe, exceeding ten times the maximum dose, and pointed the needle to the vein in the arm.
He saw the scars on his wrist, as he had done to take his lives in vain, much earlier.
It seemed an eternity since then.
She found him, stopped him, saved him. She had been able to give him confidence and hope in life that he had lost long ago.
Then back in his mind the last time she had spoken a few hours before:
"You must promise me that whatever happens, you'll overwhelm by pain"
"You've got to live. You go ahead and create a new life. Maybe without me" "Promise"
He had to live.
He had promised.
His eyes filled with tears, although he was sure to have finished them.
She had done so much to save him, and now he was getting all away.
All her hard work, her commitment.
All her love.
He threw the syringe on the ground and stepped with his foot, shattering it.
He stared at the liquid that is spread on the floor.
He went out and closed the door behind him in silence.
When he entered in the room, nothing changed.
The light of the moon shone her through the curtains, a light almost unnatural.
She was beautiful.
There, on that bed, looked like a dead angel.
"My angel has flown away," he thought, while he knelt at his side.
He looked her for a long time.
The delicate lips closed, she would never kissed.
The chest, which will never raise and lower gently rocking him when she took his head in his hands and made him rest.
She would never stroked his hair.
He would never touch her skin fresh and delicate, fragrant.
The beautiful face, silvery in the moonlight, shone.
The closed eyelids.
He knew that there were two beautiful grey eyes.
He wanted to see them again, but he would found only empty and lifeless eyes, he knew.
He preferred to remember them as they were: deep, sincere, full of hope and love.
He took her hand and put it to his cheek.
"I love you. I've always said. I will go on without you, I promised, but l'll ove only you. I'll love you forever Arohi."