"I mean, there's a lot to say I suppose," Byrd laughed but her tone was growing deeper. She settled back down in the grass and leaned her head over to stare at Kenneth. Her thumb rubbed circles, her skin oddly soft for a game generated avatar. 

"Why..." Kenneth pursed his lips. What am I trying to say? What am I trying to ask? He felt cold cutting into his back that wasn't the grass and shivered. His fingers tightened around hers. There's too much to ask, too much to say. He sighed. "I don't know what I want...I just, I want to understand it all. How in the world do you look at life and see any reason for living it? Does He give you that too?" 

Byrd nodded, her head leaning into the grass. Her eyes were fixated on him. Kenneth felt his cheeks growing warm and he cut his eyes to the sky again. 

"Yeah, He does," she answered. She shifted to her back, hand still clasped in his. "See, I don't know it all. Really, I'm still really confused on life and stuff. What am I gonna do when I get older? Who am I? All questions I ask a lot, but I know there's one constant thing in my life. God has a plan for me. He's always had one since I was born, and even though I don't really know where it was, He's got a purpose in mind. I'll follow through with it to the end because as long as I have a purpose, life has a reason to be lived."

She took in a deep breath. Kenneth's eyes flickered to her face and rested there, watching her eyes as they stared deep into the night sky and shimmered with pinpricks of light. I feel like I oughta think or say something really cheesy right now, he laughed mentally. His lips almost quirked into a smile but remained a thin line instead. He shook the thought away and tried to inhale. It sounded ragged even in the game. 

Byrd's hand squeezed his. "I guess what I mean to say is that, I know hopelessness. Maybe not to the same extent you do. I don't know your whole life story but what you told me, it sounds rough. Words aren't enough to comfort pain like that, but I know that Jesus has for me given me a reason to wake up in the morning and live each day looking forward to my purpose to be fulfilled in Him, and also...I look forward to each day I can wake up knowing it's a chance to save someone's soul. I hope someday, I'll save at least one, but maybe that's shallow of me."

Kenneth stared at their hands. He wanted to reach over and touch her hand but his hands were heavy against the grass. His eyelids tried to droop and he inhaled sharply, forcing cold air into his weakening lungs. "It's not...shallow," he murmured. "You're...a good...person."

"Thank you," she whispered. "You are too."

Kenneth closed his eyes. His face felt warm and cold at the same time. Reality creeping in? He shivered and tightened his grasp on her fingers. "I. I like you," he gasped. "A lot." His eyes cut over to her slightly, bloodshot behind the avatar. He strained, his head wanting to turn away as his face flushed with a deeper warmth. 

Byrd just looked up and smiled back at him. Her eyes rested on their hands. "Don't tell my mother, but I like you a lot too," she whispered and grinned.  "And I hope, we can meet in th real world someday." 

Kenneth rested his head to the side, struggling to intake air. He nodded, though, his eyes blurring out of focus. "Yeah..." Breathing was getting hard and his chest tightened uncomfortably. He coughed and inhaled sharply. "T-Thank you. For talking. To. Me. And..." he struggled on the intake and got a little more air. His chest burned, clear as day, and it wasn't from his avatar. "And. Thank you. For. Answering. Me."

Her movements caused the grass to brush against his body. Her hand was still tight in his but she put her other hand on his shoulder. "Anytime, just stay calm and take deep breaths, okay? 

Kenneth tried to nod. His throat felt dry, almost cracked. He coughed and it send spikes of pain through his neck. He gasped, his body heavy. The world outside was getting clearer. He could smell the water under the bridge, the exhaust of an old vehicle. City, concrete. He choked on it and wheezed, trying to get the earthy smell out of his head and focus on the game. Byrd was there. He could feel her holding his hand, could barely make out her avatar leaning worriedly over him. Her brow was furrowed, that couldn't be good. Lips moving. He focused on her voice.

"Kenneth, can you hear me? Can I get a bit personal for a moment?"

A jolt of fear gripped his limbs. "W-W--"

"Where are you?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her thumb was moving a little faster in tiny circles over his hand. He was worrying her. Kenneth coughed and winced at the sting of physical pain that rose into his chest. His hand was feeling numb and he fought to keep his eyes in little slits. Where am I? I'm in the game on a hill...no, the bridge. I'm at the bridge. He felt the cold rungs of the bridge railing digging into his back again. Concrete pressing into his legs. The sound of wind and the lapping of water underneath the bridge's stiff pillars. Dead silence around his silent form.  

"Bridge...two blocks..." he paused to try inhaling. "...two blocks, hospital...Central Austin Hos--" the words were breathing off into breathy coughing. He could feel his avatar getting as cold as his physical body. It had to be early to mid-fall by now. September? Or no, was it November? He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at a calendar. Byrd's warm fingers pressed almost painfully into his numbing limbs. The real world and the virtual melded into one spinning static sensation surrounding him. 

"Hang on, I'm going to log out. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

 Her hand disappeared from within his. Her fingers were no longer crushing into his shoulder. Kenneth grasped for thin air but his fingers only barely shifted. He tried to raise a hand to log out and the leaden weight of exhaustion held him pinned. He kept his eyes open, staring into the night sky. 

God, is this it for me? Please...don't let it be. Please, I'm sorry about it all. I'm sorry, I don't want to die, I don't want to give up. I want a purpose...I want to be her purpose.

Tears welled up and slid down his avatars cheek. They weren't warm like they should have been. He could taste the salt in the air around him, though. Were they seconds or minutes that were passing? Kenneth fought his eyes and fought for air. Pain tingled inside of his nerve endings and spread to numb his whole body. 

Please. He hiccuped and it hurt. Spikes inside of his lungs. Somewhere, far away, someone or something was wailing. Drawing nearer. A deafening distant scream of a siren. He could feel a hand grasping at his and a shadow looming overhead, but it was static. Stars fizzled into black and white pixels. The world had the quality of an 8-bit game. He coughed.

Hands gripped his arm and shoulders. Byrd, or someone else? He couldn't see the sky, couldn't see anything. His eyes felt like they'd finally slid shut.

"Careful, get a respirator now. I need a blanket." 

Shivering at the onrush of chilled air, Kenneth let his head loll back. His fingers twitched. The momentary sensation of her hand was gone again. Someone wrapped something tight and warm around his shoulders. Plastic bit into the skin around his face. Kenneth squirmed slightly and tried to move but the hazy tingling of pain and numbness inside his body wasn't gone.

A rush of dry stale air rushed into his lungs seconds later, though. He coughed at the foul taste and wheezed painfully back into the respirator. How long has it been? Am I in the game? 

Blackness clouded out the world. He could almost make out the faint afterimage of Byrd's face, though. Her fingers pressed into his shoulder like a phantom. Warm and a little bit tight. Kenneth squirmed away from the hand. It didn't move. It wasn't a ghost.

He cracked one eye and closed it again to the assault of light. The oxygen pressed into his lungs, one forced breath after another. Some of the fuzziness faded into the background. He tried to move his fingers and again cracked one eye to see who was holding him. 

"B-Byrd..." he muttered thinly. 

"Who's that?" someone whispered. "Friend?"

"Hang on, kid. You'll be back at the hospital in a few minutes and we'll get you back under proper care."

Humans. People. Not Byrd, though. Their voices were too old and too stiff. Kenneth closed his eyes and listened to the familiar click of the respirator. Tears continued to slide down his cheeks. There were burning hot and salty as a few slid past the tight respirator and down into his mouth as he thinly inhaled and exhaled. 

They were going back. Back to his mother. Back to the hospital. Back to the surgery only days away, and the room where he'd lived for so many years. Another tear slid down his cheek. Kenneth tilted his head back with a heavy inhale and screwed his eyes tight. With a mild rush of relief, he finished his prayer. 

Thank you.