I held his hand as he laid in the hospital bed staring up at the ceiling. "243... 244... 245. Same as yesterday, and the day before."

"Why do you count the dots on the ceiling?"

"Because I feel like each dot represents a day before I die. Today is day number 245."

"Don't say that! You'll live Jacob, I know you will!" He smiles a weak smile of his and stares up at the ceiling once again.

"That's what Maya said too, an' she said that afterward, we could go fishing. The tumor has gotten too big for even the doctors to control."

"Jacob, please. You have to stop saying you're going to die! Or... or... we're all going to believe you don't want to get better." He grabs my hands and stares deep into my eyes, his blue ones boring into my brown ones. "How many things are we going to experiment on me, Michael. Chemotherapy, medicine, we've tried surgery too. The doctors have given up. That's why they let me make a final wish before I die." He stares at the ceiling once again. "I don't think we can celebrate our Twinthday this year Michael."

I cry and hold his hand, and cry, and cry. The tears aren't stopping and I have no motivation to try to stop them. "I love you..." is what he finally said before the nurse motioned me out of the room. "Visiting hours are over, come back tomorrow." Inside I knew, I wouldn't ever be coming back, neither would Jacob. The next day, I began planning a funeral with my hysterical mother and father. I hope he enjoys a wooden coffin.