Hello reader! Hope you enjoy this. The song lyrics below are not mine but from the song Permanent by David Cook; It was my inspiration so please read it.

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I Did It For You — by Ella

I try to imagine how fast the car was going.

I try to imagine if you thought you were going to die at that very moment. I wonder if you wished I had gone with you, even though he was with you. Besides, I'm not the kind of person that goes out, but I would with you; because you are the only person I would wish to be with.

I try to imagine your face when you saw the other car coming so close to his vehicle.

I try to imagine what was going through his mind when the glass fatedly wounded him in the chest as he tried to protect your skin.

I try to imagine how he felt to have his blood drained from his veins like some vacuum.

Think of it: sacrificing his own skin to protect yours, I guess I know why you like him better then me. I would have never done that so quickly.

I try to imagine a smile on your face, because I haven't seen you smile at all in the hospital, but I know there is a reason for that.

I go to the nurse alone to ask if he is going to be okay, and well, you know… make it. Because I know you like him more than me. It makes me want to cry. But you'll never see a tear from my eye., that's a promise. He is better than me, that is the sharp gutting truth and it makes me sad and regretful like I was never anything to you. I never did anything heroic for you; I didn't want to act like a hero, because I am not.

"He lost so much blood that he most likely will not be able to live to see the day after tomorrow." the nurse had responded to my answer.

Not be able to live to see the day after tomorrow. The sentence repeats over and over.

I try to imagine looking into the future and seeing you always depressed. I wouldn't be able to help you at all then. I mean, you would think you are all alone when you don't have anyone's hand to hold. I'd be there; but it wouldn't be the same.

"Is there anyway to get the blood?" I ask.

"No; All the people here need their blood." the nurse said.

I blink.

I don't want to see you or him in pain. It would kill me mentally.

"What type of blood?" I asked. Maybe I knew someone with the same type as him. I asked the question for you, for me because I cannot stand seeing you a crying mess everyday.

"AB negative." A doctor said, looking at his charts.

I have the same type. I could save him for you. I know what I have to do: for you. I mean, it's only some of my blood, right?


It's a lot of my blood. I mean he lost a lot. He is dying.

I could die too.


I almost laughed.

I'm not going to die…

I walk into room 108 and see him in a hospital bed.

You aren't there now because your parents (and doctor) forced you to go home to get some rest. I see him, and his eyes are open. He looks at him.

"Hey, dude." I said.

He grunted in pain.

I started to talk, hoping my words would be heard

"I… uh, think I'm going to donate my blood to you. Uh, we have the same type of blood. I promise I'll do anything." I smiled, trying to encourage him though the pain. "Everything will be alright soon. You'll get out. It was a brave thing to do to cover her. I know I could never have the guts to do it." I said, trying to make him happy. But the words didn't make me happy. It made me sad. "I need to confront the doctor, and I need to talk to my dad first before I donate anything." —anything meaning my blood. My blood that I need; but he needs it more.

Then I left him, and went back home.


"Hello?!" I said, the instant I put my foot into the door of my house.

I hear some stumbling, and then my dad walks out of the kitchen. He stands there, pathetically drunk as normal. He drops an almost finished can of beer on the carpeted floor and then crunches it with his foot. Eww, that's going to leave a stain, and normally I would have to take away all the stains. It was almost a normal chore around my dad.

"Dad…" I started to say, but he walked into the kitchen and then shouted at me:

"Do that dang laundry!" He yells a lot too.

I guess you never knew I live in a dump, with my dad. My parents divorced when I was thirteen. My mom lives in California… I think. She really doesn't keep in touch.

I wanted to tell my dad what I was going to do, even though he didn't care.

"I am going to donate some of my blood away to a person." I said, obeying my dad and picking up the laundry. I heard another can of beer open.

"I don't know how much blood." I added, once a couple silent moments slipped by without words.

"Do the hell what you want! Do you think I care?" he yells at me.

He gets mad at me a lot too.

Most of the time I don't feel safe sleeping in the house, so I sleep in the basement in a room with the door locked.


I woke up really early in the morning and got back to the hospital. I see you and I want to smile at you, but since he is practically dying I don't. I don't want it to seem like I want him to die. I don't. If I did, then why would I donate my blood to him?

I went to talk to the doctor. I remember him a long time ago when we had career day in grade school. He has black hair all glossed back, he now looked like he was in his fifties, I could tell because he had gray hairs too. His eyes seemed into it, attention-grabbing eyes.

He greet me and we shake hands. His got a good grip, but I get straight to the point.

"I want to donate my blood to a friend here that has lost most of his." I said.

I don't know why I called him my friend, maybe because he is your friend.

"You will lose a lot of your blood. He has lost so much blood. If you would lose any more blood after the donation you may die. You will have to sign some papers."

I was ready for that. Paperwork.

"My friend means so much to me." (because if he dies, you will mentally die too.) "I promised him I'd donate my blood. Whatever the cost."

I couldn't break that promise, now could I?

The doctor grunted, then handed me the papers.

The nurse pricks the needle into my arm. It stings, but I've had worse. After the fifth prick it gets really annoying. I don't feel so great, but I don't want to stop the nurse. I'll do it for you, and for your happiness.

Ten more minutes pass by.

I can feel the blood draining from me, I wonder if I looked pale.

Then it was done.

The nurse bandages me up and I put on my long-sleeved shirt. I purposely put on a long-sleeved shirt so that you wouldn't know. Ignorance is bliss, isn't it? Well, I suppose in your case not, because you think your friend is dying. But he isn't, because of me. Maybe I feel heroic for the first time.

That late morning they put the blood in him and you were given the news that he would not die and I am so happy! You hugged me. The embrace was so shocking to me that I almost forgot to hug back. You were so happy you may not have noticed that you kissed me on the check. You were so happy, you made me happy.

Even though you'll never know that I saved him, even though I'll never be with you, even though I am not a hero, you kissed me even if it was on the check. I want you to know I did it for you, I want to be your hero. But something stops me from saying it, like I couldn't tell you.

I see your smile again.

My life feels complete.


That afternoon I go back home.

My father was waiting for me. I heard some yelling and cussing. I felt weak and sore. I needed to recover. Some more violent yelling then I felt a book being thrown at my arm. A book? The Bible! Please, God! Not now, not after what I just did! I pleaded silently.

I couldn't hear what he was yelling at me for. Obviously I didn't fold the laundry right, or something. Then I felt a sharp thing. A needle? No it was clear. Broken up glass from a breakable cup? A large piece was stuck right where the nurse stuck all those needles.

Appearing from my long-sleeve, I saw red.


Red paint.

But…it didn't smell like paint…

It wasn't paint.

I knew it was blood.

That's going to leave a bigger stain.

I groped on the floor, looking at the Bible that had been thrown at me, blocking the violent language that was being yelled at me.

After all the blood I lost, I am not losing more ever second. I took out the sharp glass, but then the bleeding increased. NO! Noooho!

The words from the doctor rang in my mind: "If you would lose any more blood after the donation you may die."

I did it for you, because I loved you. I knew you didn't feel the same way.

Then I felt something I had never felt before.

It wasn't pain, it wasn't love, and it wasn't nothingness.

It was… a tear..!?

I tried to keep the bandage on, and I ran out of the house. I got into the car and sped to the hospital. I can't make it. Just think like this: my blood is in him, so you can live with the both of us.


I need to say that I love you. I know I'm not going to make it because my blood is gone.

I see the hospital and I slam the door open and run in.

Is it too late?

I fall in the lobby.

I feel myself on a bed rushing. I heard your voice.

"What happened?" I hear you demand.

I say your name.

You respond, but I couldn't hear.

"I love —" but I was carried away.

I did all of this for you.

I realized that I was being selfish because of you. I don't want to be that kind of person, which is why I gave him my blood.

I feel guilty, I was selfish.

After two days of never seeing you. You come to my hospital room. It was room 108, the same one that he was in just days ago.

You stand there.

"What were you going to say before you passed out?" she asked.

I tried to act confused. I didn't want to be that way, selfish and heroic. I didn't want you to know that I loved you.

I almost burst into tears again.

"I said that I did it for you." I said.

And I did.

The End

Permanent(By David Cook)


Is this the moment where I look you in the eye?

Forgive my broken promise that you'll never see me cry.

And everything it was surely change

even if I tell you I won't go away today.


Will you think that your all alone,

When no ones there to hold your hand?

And all you know seems so far away

And everything is temporary, rest your head.

I'm permanent.


I know he's living in hell every single day.

So I ask, "Oh God, is there some way for me to take his place?"

And when they say it's all touch and go.

I wish I could make it go away.

But still you say:


Will you think that your all alone,

When no ones there to hold your hand?

And all you know seems so far away

And everything is temporary, rest your head.

I'm permanent.


I'm permanent.


Is this the moment where I look you in the eye?

Forgive my promise that you'll never see me cry…