Dr. Hartwell had to have a serious talk with Devon's parents. They had to make a serious decision. Her treatment wasn't working. It wasn't beating me, and it couldn't. They could continue her treatment and hope for a miracle, or they could take her off treatments, and let her stop suffering.
They knew the miracle would not come easily. They shook their heads in silence as tears ran down their cheeks. They knew what this meant but they didn't want to face it.
"What should we do?" her mom asked.
"I don't know. What are we supposed to do in this situation? Would we be horrible parents to stop treating her? Or would it be for the best? Do we take her somewhere else? Somewhere peaceful where she could -" her father couldn't say the word. He couldn't think of Devon dying; of me killing her.
They thought about taking her to one of her favorite places, or maybe just somewhere nice where she could be happy and peaceful. But they soon realized that she was happiest here, with Tate.
They would take her off treatments, but she would stay here in the hospital.
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Devon was happier and less miserable without so much heavy medication. She was able to do more than before. The pain was more bearable and she was at least a little stronger.
Nobody was giving up on her though, they believed more in her and less in me. They would try to get her up and walking, trying to build her strength little by little.
One day, the request they knew would come, came out of Devon's moth.
"Mommy, I want to dance."
Her mother held back tears as she tried to think of how to handle this. Of course she could not say no to the one thing Devon wanted to do before she died. It was the first time she had thought of the word. Death. How could such a thing be happening to such a beautiful child? It wasn't fair. But she was finding out life wasn't fair.
So it turned into a trip to the ballet studio. Devon put on her leotard and ballet slippers, carefully. She almost reached up to tie her hair into a bun, but quickly remembered her beautiful bun was now replaced by a pink bandana.
She walked onto the familiar floor, seeing herself in the mirror, happy as ever. She warmed up at the bar and then quietly began to prance around the floor.
She didn't notice the people watching as she leaped and twirled. The glass window was occupied with girls of all ages, watching the perfect dancing.
Devon looked happier and more beautiful than ever. She was admired by all. Everything was silent as time seemed to stand still. When she finally stopped dancing, nobody said a word. There was no way to describe this magnificent miracle they had just witnessed. She left them breathless.
Devon's strength didn't last. She danced one last time before I could get to her. She needed more strong medicines just to keep her going. Her parents were spending every minute they could with her. Every relative had come and spent their final hours with her.
Everybody knew, including Devon, but they just enjoyed their time with her, being happy.
Everyone came to visit her. They brought cards, balloons, and teddy bears. They hugged her and told her to feel better. They tried to make her happy. They talked and laughed.
Devon smiled and made each of them happy in return. She knew why there was a sudden burst of visitors, and she didn't want anyone to worry about her. She knew her time was coming near, but she wasn't afraid. She was so brave.
After a while Devon seemed to be a little better. They hoped the previous days was just a false alarm and that they'd have a little more time with her. Any time was better than none.
One particular day, when she was feeling pretty bad, but told her parents she was fine, she lay in her bed watching The Little Mermaid with Tate. This was his favorite movie, the one they watched the most often. You would think she would be sick of it, but anything she was watching with Tate was wonderful to her.
She knew her parents were exhausted. They stayed up night and day taking care of her. They were going to go home for a bit to get some rest, get the mail, and they would come right back to her, they promised.
"Don't worry," Devon smiled, "I'm fine. I'm feeling good today. You guys are tired. Go ahead. I'll see you later."
They kissed her and said goodbye, promising to be back in no more than 2 hours. They knew she would be fine watching movies with Tate.
They lay in bed, Tate's head on Devon's chest, feeling peaceful. The TV screen show Ariel and Eric peacefully rowing down the river. They weren't really watching anymore, just gazing at the screen. They had seen the movie enough times; they knew all the words and everything that happened. It was just nice to be watching your favorite movie with your best friend.
"I love you, Devon," Tate said quietly.
"I love you too," she whispered, as she drifted off to sleep.
Tate drifted off to sleep too, but soon awoke. He grabbed Devon's hand, squeezing. His heart began to pound as he found her hand cold and still. She was no longer breathing heavily, no longer breathing at all. He hugged her tightly, a single tear trickling down his face as he realized what had happened. I had won.
The End
