Joyce (4/4)

Continuation of part 3.

    I wish I could take it back. If I hadn't been in shock, if I hadn't been so scared for my life, if I hadn't suffering from not having enough blood running through my brain to reason properly, I never would have done it. Even now I can't go through a day without wishing that I didn't do what I did that day. But it's too late now.
    My eyes closed and my body fell limp. Kent might have thought that I died, right when I had finally accepted his offer, but I hadn't. I just needed all my strength to do this. With all I had left in me, which was practically nothing, a triggered my ability. My face tightened, my fists clenched, and within a few seconds relief swept over me. The great pain I had been feeling was gone. I felt so much lighter, now that the pain was lifted, but still very weak.
    Kent fell over onto his back. He cried out in pain. The lower part of his shirt was drenched in blood already. Now he had the bullet wound. Now he was suffering great blood loss. Now he was going to die. I immediately regretted my decision. But it was too late to go back.
    I mustered the strength to get up on my knees and I bent over Kent. I could see the pain in his eyes. I could hear it in his screaming.
    "What have I done?" I said to myself.
    "Don't take it back." he warned me. "Don't undo it. This is for the best."
    Kent screamed in pain. I couldn't stand to see him like this. Unfortunately, I wouldn't have to see him in pain much longer.
    "You're a good friend." Kent said, looking up at me. I realized that he was saying his goodbyes. He knew, as I did, that he would go quickly. He knew that he wouldn't make it as long as I had.
    "You're the best friend I ever had." I said. I smiled as warmly as I could and held tightly to his hand. Blood, mostly mine but also some of his, coated both his hand and mine.
    "Tell my family I love them."
    "I will."
    "Don't let them have any regrets. Don't let them think that they should've done something different. I loved them just the way they were."
    "I'll tell them." We were growing more urgent. I felt that his death would be just a few short heartbeats away.
    "And Joyce." Kent paused. He had something important to say.
    "Yes?"
    For the longest time, Kent didn't respond. I thought that he was gone, that I'd be left forever wondering what he had meant to say. But he finally spoke.
    "I always loved you."
    Tears welled up in my eyes. "I loved you too."
    "Goodbye Joyce." Kent paused and took in a deep breath – his last. "Make the world a better place." he said.
    I knew the moment that he was gone. I felt the life pass out of him. I felt his body fall limp. I like to think that his spirit passed on to some other place, but I don't know about such things. I stayed with Kent for more than an hour, sobbing as I lay in the pine needles. Finally, I thought I could walk back. I was so weak from all the blood I lost.
    I stumbled several times when walking through the forest. I don't know how I found the strength to pick myself back up and continue on each time I fell, but I did. It took me an hour to reach the highway. Once I did, I fell to the ground by the road. The next car to come along stopped and a young couple helped me. I whispered something about a hunting accident as they rushed me to the hospital, about my friend in the forest who had died.
    It was over.
    I had to rest for a few days, but I was fine. Knowing what had happened to Kent, I was not concerned in the slightest about myself. Kent was buried a few days later. I never could tell his family what happened. I've kept it a secret that it was my fault, that I was the idiot who managed to shoot herself. I could never tell anyone how valiantly Kent put himself in my place. How could I? What could I say? That I had been shot? That I used an ability of mine that I don't understand to transfer the wound to my best friend? No would have understood.

    "At least, no one until you." Joyce concluded her story with a sigh. "Well, that's how it happened, Jessica."
    Joyce and Jessica were sitting on a bench in a quiet little park. It had probably taken Joyce twenty minutes to tell her story. Her eyes were red. Her sleeves were wet from mopping up her tears.
    "I'm so sorry." Jessica said. "That was worse than I could have expected."
    Joyce just nodded.
    "Do you feel guilty? I mean, if that had happened to me, I'd feel like I should have been the one to die."
    "But I should have been the one to die!" Joyce nearly shouted. "I was going to die. It was my fault and I should have taken the punishment for it."
    "Joyce..."
    "You know what? It's okay. I'm better now. I'm doing what he asked."
    "What's that?"
    "I'm helping people. I'm saving them."
    "How?"
    "I'm getting better with my ability now. I can take on someone's injury, or disease, or pain, and really soften it so it isn't too terrible for me to endure."
    "You're using your ability? You're hurting yourself?"
    "I'm saving lives!" Joyce lowered her tone, not wanting to be overheard by the others at the park. "I'm doing what Kent wanted. I'm making it so that his death wasn't a waste."
    "It's not a waste. He sacrificed himself. You can't make up for that. You don't have to earn that."
    "It's the last thing he ever said to me. The last thing he asked me to do. I'm pretty sure he sure wanted me to help people."
    "But it's hurting you. I can see it in your face. You have scars on your body – scars that belong to other people. You look weak and sick."
    "Kent wanted me to do this."
    "Kent wanted to save you. Not for you to save others. Kent saved you. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to ruin your life trying to help others, just on account of his last words to you. He loved you, and he saved your life. Stop trying to earn it. You can continue to help people, but you need to be careful, and think first of your own safety."
    "I don't think I can stop now."
    "If you don't, you'll kill yourself. Please, just accept Kent's sacrifice, and move on."
    Joyce sat still for a moment. It did hurt her to help people the way she did. She'd lie on her bed at night, in agony from an affliction she had healed someone else of. She'd turn on music, turn it up loud, and hold a pillow over her face to cover up the sounds of her groans and screams. Her only comfort on those nights was that it would usually be gone in the morning, and that now someone else wouldn't have to go through it. Still, it hurt her so much. She did want to stop. But how could she live with herself, knowing that there were dying people out there that she could save? "Will you help me?" she finally asked.
    "Of course. It's why I came here. It's what I do." Jessica put her arm around Joyce's shoulder. "I'm here to help."
    Joyce sniffed and looked around the park. Glancing back at Jessica, Joyce smiled.
    "Thank you."