I had dozed off to sleep I realised, as I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

As my vision swam into focus, I saw my daughter sitting up in her bed, staring out the glass window of her hospital room. In the pale light of dawn she seemed so frail, with her straggly, dirty blonde, hair and her sickly form.

But I knew that she had a fire in her. A strength, that had helped her weather pain and hardship that, no child her age should ever have to face. Right from her birth, she had been frail, in fact in the first few weeks of her life, we weren't sure whether she would make it. She did survive, but the weakness didn't leave her.

Finally, one day when she was five years old, she suddenly fainted and when she woke up, she could see no more.

Since then, she has lived in the prison, that is her hospital room. Continuously fighting against the disease, that she knew would eventually claim her anyways.

"You should have awoken me, " I said to my daughter.

"You looked so peaceful while sleeping, I couldn't bear waking you up", she smiled. " Is it snowing outside?" she asked.

"No. But it snowed all night, yesterday", I said. As a comfortable silence descended upon us I said, " I brought you a new book to read."

"What book is it?" she asked excitedly.

I smiled, as I said, "The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. I heard that it is set during the World War 2 period."

"Sounds interesting", she said. As she took the book from me and started running her fingers down the pages, already starting to read it.

I smiled as I took up the newspaper I had earlier set down.

"Oh! It seems there is going to be an Eclipse this Thursday. It will be the longest Total Solar Eclipse ever recorded, huh", I said, as I turned over to the next page.

"Dad, can I make a request to you?" my daughter asked.

I set down the paper and looked up at her, "What is it?" I asked.

"Umm, can we go to the park to see the Eclipse?" she asked.

I frowned, "You know the doctors won't allow that. You are in the terminal stage, it could be really dangerous."

She took a deep breath and said, "Dad, there's no way I can survive this. There is no cure. And that is something I have long accepted. So can you consider this as my last wish. I want to go outside once again. I cannot see the stars or the blue sky anymore. But I would like to breathe in the fresh air and feel the warmth of the Sun's rays on my skin. I would like to feel alive once more, even if it is for the last time." I saw her clenched fists, the set of her shoulders, and knew that she was determined.

I let out a sigh, as I said, "Very well, I'll take you. But I'll have to sneak you out. The doctors won't allow a terminal patient like you to leave." She smiled, and it was the most dazzling smile I had seen on her, since her mother passed away, years ago. It made me happy.

——————————

It was Thursday, I had sneaked my daughter out the back entrance, by bribing the desk clerk.

We were having breakfast, at her favourite childhood restaurant. "It is still early, want to catch a movie, before we head to the park?" I asked.

She stopped stuffing her face with pancakes, as she mumbled, "Sure, what movie are we going to watch?"

"Don't know, we'll have to decide after we get there, I said, as I took a bite out of my tuna sandwich.

"Careful, you're getting syrup everywhere. It's on you sleeves", I said. As I tried to wipe off the syrup from the sleeves of her cardigan.

By the time we left the movie theatre, it was midday. We still had over an hour before the Eclipse began, and the park was close by. So, I walked at a leisurely pace, pushing her wheelchair along, as we both enjoyed the peace and quiet. She sat in her wheelchair, admiring the scenery, although, the winter snow covered the trees, and the branches were bare of leaves or flowers. Still this barren Earth, had a beauty to it. Even if it was a cold, forbidding, kind of beauty.

We saw some children frolicking in the snow. Seeing that, my daughter let out such a lovely full laugh, that it even made me smile.

These carefree kids lived in a completely different world than my daughter, who would be dying before her sixteenth birthday, I lamented.

As we reached the park, I suddenly heard her say, "Dad, I don't feel well." I saw that she was shivering uncontrollably. I felt her temperature and saw that she was burning up.

Panicking, I scooped her up from the wheelchair and carrying her rushed to find a cab, to drive us to the hospital.

But it had snowed heavily, all day and night, yesterday. As such, many of the roads were blocked with snow and traffic was slow. It took me a while to find a cab, by then her shivering had gotten much worse.

Her teeth were chattering and her skin had started to turn blue. We got into the cab and I turned the heat to the maximum, as we rushed to the hospital.

As soon as we reached the hospital, the doctors took her from me and as I waited for news, I experienced the longest thirty minutes of my life.

Eventually one of the doctors came up to me and said, "I am sorry, but there is nothing we can do for your daughter, sir. She has experienced multiple organ failure and her body is shutting down all vital functions one by one. By tonight, she will have passed on.

The only thing we can do is make her final few hours easier. So, I would like to inform you that, she is conscious and wishes to speak to you. You should say your goodbyes."

As he patted my shoulder in consolation, I felt as if time had come to a standstill. Each of his words hit me like a hammer, sending my world crashing down.

I felt tears slide down my cheeks. I was crying. I hadn't cried when my wife had died in an accident over ten years ago. I hadn't cried even when my daughter went blind and was diagnosed with this godforsaken disease.

I had held it all in, for many years. But this, hearing that even my little girl would leave me forever, sent me careening over the edge. I broke down in the middle of the waiting room, shedding tears I had held in for years.

Finally after around ten minutes had passed, I somehow gathered myself. Shaking off my pain and hurt, I walked to her room, to talk to her, for one last time.

She lay there, as if she had just fallen asleep. As I walked up to her bedside and sat down, her eyes fluttered open.

She looked up at me in confusion, for a moment, and then she smiled as she took my hand in hers and drew me closer. I knelt at her bedside, as she whispered in a broken voice, "Dad, today was really fun." I choked back a sob, as she said, "The pancakes were very tasty. I also enjoyed the movie a lot as well. Although, we did miss the Eclipse, it almost reminded me of my childhood days."

She started coughing and I saw a trickle of blood run down her chin. After taking a few shallow breaths she started speaking again, though her voice was more strained and feeble.

"Dad, you have spent years mourning mother, I do not wish for you to spend years mourning your dead daughter, too. Your life has remained frozen for the last ten years. It's time to move on", she whispered.

It was only becoming harder for her to speak, but speak she did fighting through the pain, as I listened.

And after she lost her voice, I held her. I knew that though my daughter was brave, she was scared as well. So I held her and stroked her hair, as I used to do when she was small.

The sky began to darken with the oncoming Eclipse. And in that darkness as I held her, I felt her little heart stop beating.

I cried, I screamed, at the unfairness of it all. And when my tears had dried and my voice had cracked, I held her. That is how the nurse found us hours later. Bathed, in the blood red rays of the setting Sun, I sat, cradling the cold body of my dead daughter in my arms.