Not Quite Dead Yet

I think I’ve spent so long waiting for it all to begin, for life to really start, that I missed out on what it was really all about.

He’d had to do that twice. Hold the woman he loved in his arms as she lay dying.

You can love something without needing it to love you back.

That final week, not quite long enough, not quite dead yet. But if it’s a frog to you, then it’s a frog to me too.

I’ve finally been living. And that’s all because of you. You showed me. It’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for me, and I’ll never forget it. And I wanted you to know, that it was all you, before it’s too late.

You know,’ he said, gripping the wheel with both hands, even though they weren’t going anywhere. ‘I think this has been the worst week of my life, because I’m going to lose you, and I don’t want to lose you.’ He cleared the lump in his throat. ‘But, it’s also been the best week of my life, because I got to spend it with you.

Yeah,' Jet said, 'I see you. Do you see me?' 'I've always seen you, Jet.

But,' she said, 'what's the point in doing it, if it's not to achieve something big?' 'Maybe there is no point.

I think life is about finding your person, your one person.

Because I wrote this little song … for Jet.

Was this what it felt like to be a man? Walking on this creepy dark bridge, not scared for a second that she wouldn't make it out the other side, because it didn't really make a difference whether she did or not. The night belonged to her now too. A dead woman walking. And dead women had no use for fear.

I’m sorry,” Billy cries. Jet isn’t. She’s home, because she’s here with Billy. He holds her, tucks her hair out of her face.

She wanted what she'd always wanted. To do something, achieve something big, something undeniably great, to prove that she could.

He'd known her all her life; maybe he knew those hidden parts of her too, that she couldn't ask for help because it was the same as feeling useless.

So.’ Jet hesitated, trying to stick her mind back together, to fix what the doctor couldn’t. ‘My choice is I can die now, or I can die in seven days?

But, was it really a waste of time if I loved every minute of it?

Because, Billy, this past week, I haven’t really been dying. I think, maybe, it’s the opposite. I’ve finally been living. And that’s all because of you. You showed me.

It was your funeral today. I sat with your family, held little Jet’s hand. I can’t believe you’re really gone. I’ll miss you forever. When I have a daughter, I’ll name her after you. Goodbye Emily.

I’m going to do it, Billy. Always told you I’d do something big, didn’t I? OK, I thought I was going to be president or an astronaut back then, but this is just as big: solving my own murder.

Not fair?' Jet asked, incredulous. I'm twenty-seven. I'm the one who has to die before l've even had a chance to live.

And if they brought the murder weapon with them' - Jet paused, not long enough to lose the budding thought - 'that means they came here with one purpose. It wasn't a stranger. It wasn't a robbery gone wrong. It was someone I know. And they came here to kill me

Not off the top of my head." "No, it was off the top of my head, Luke. The back actually.

Look.’ She pointed up at the sky, drawing a shape with the stars. ‘Do you see it? No, look this way, Billy. Yeah. That’s its eye, that’s the other one. It’s a frog, see?’ Billy laughed. ‘Of course you see a frog. You love frogs.’ ‘You don’t see it?’ Billy breathed out, looked at her. ‘If it’s a frog to you, then it’s a frog to me.’ ‘It’s a frog’.

think I’ve spent so long waiting for it all to begin, for life to really start, that I missed out on what it was really all about.

Good.' Billy clicked his tongue. 'Glad we agree.' 'Yep. Same page.

I'm sorry that I'm not Emily. But I was never supposed to be. Took me a while to learn that, and I hope you can see it too. I spent my whole life waiting because I was trying to live a future that was never mine. And I did it because I wanted you to be proud of me. To just once say “Good Job, Jet.” I needed it, lived for it, and I don't think that was healthy, for either of us.

all of her laters and all of her tomorrows, leaving her with just a handful. Leftovers. Scraps.

She couldn't ask for help because it was the same as feeling useless