Stephanie Meyer Owns The Character
Of course everyone only lives once, and everybody knows that they will die eventually. Maybe they don't know when it will happen or how but isn't that just another part of life? You're not supposed to know, maybe it would change you or destroy you if you knew.
I'm just one of those people who already knows, I know how and when I am going to die. My name is Bella Swan, I'm just your average 22 year old girl. Just living like you, but in reality I only have 12 months to live.
"Why did you have to break down today?! Why not any other day?" I yelled at my old Chevy truck that just stopped working and was now dead on the side of the road. I have gotten this fixed so many times I have lost count, it may be time to get a new one. I signed and leaned up against the bumper of the truck.
I was on my way to the doctors office because just my luck, I have been having chest pain for a couple months now. Lately the pain had become unbearable, so I decided I should get it checked out.
I was now late by fifteen minutes, I decided that since I was only around the corner I would just walk and call a tow truck or figure something out when I'm done.
"Isabella Swan, I'm here for an appointment with Dr. MacArthur?" I told the receptionist on the other side of the counter, checking my watch realizing that I was already about thirty minutes late now. She typed away on her computer, pausing for a couple of minutes then looked at me with a blank expression on her face.
"The Doctor will see you now, Miss Swan." She replied in a monotone voice pointing in the direction of his examining office.
"Hello Bella, how are you feeling today?" He asked avoiding eye contact and entered the room with a grief stricken expression on his face. He coughed and looked at his clip board again his brows furrowed as he read over my test results taken from earlier this week.
"Fine doctor, got any news for me?" I asked hesitantly briefly wondering if I really wanted to know, if it was too late to run out of the office and just continue to ignore the aggravating chest pains. This is why I hate hospitals. I signed waiting for his answer.
"I'm sorry Bella, I've got nothing that you really want to hear." He signed, finally sitting down in his chair opposite to me. The tension in the air was thick and the wooden chair I have been sitting in suddenly felt like a death trap, holding me there against my will.
"It's bad isn't it?" I replied, my eyes falling down to avoid eye contact and my hands constricting around the arms of the chair, making my knuckles go white.
"I'm so sorry Bella, but the cause of your severe pain in your chest is from a primary malignant tumor in your heart in the right atrium. Blocking proper blood flow to your heart causing it to contract which is the cause of your chest pain." Dr. MacArthur continued using big doctor words but my head was fuzzy and I felt like I couldn't breath. Cancer? How could I have cancer? I was Twenty two, who gets fucking cancer this young? A huge rush of air came out of my lungs, that I didn't know I was holding. My hands started to shake.
"Well, what do we do? Surgery? Medicine?" I asked, repeating in my mind that everything was going to be okay. Ill get through this just like I get through everything else.
He sighed and looked at me with regret. "The type of cancer you have is rare, unfortunately I can give you pain medicine to make it more comfortable for you and some anti anxiety medication for the stress but other than that Bella, there is no way to treat a tumor your size and especially at the rate its growing."
He avoided eye contact and rubbed the back of his neck, like THIS was tough on HIM.
"Are you telling me, I'm going to die?" I looked at him, dejected. My heart pounded in my chest and sweat dripping down my back. My now stiff posture on the uncomfortable wood chair slumped down, defeated.
"I can refer you to a cardiology specialist and support groups that can help you through this difficult time, but my guess is you have about 12 months to live, maybe more maybe less. Doctors down in New York and Seattle have experimental treatment that might extend it to two years at best." He continued with writing a prescription for pain medication and lorazapam, anti anxiety medication.
I sighed, tears in my eyes. My future gone just like that, my dreams, my goals. My natural course of life just gone! My choice in everything just ripped away from me. Live for 12 months? That's it? That's all I have left?
"How... how will it happen?" I asked my voice almost like a whisper, staring at him with a small hope, just maybe he was going to tell me this was all a joke and I'm going to live till I am old and grey.
"The tumor will grow, until the blood is no longer able to flow properly to your heart, it will just stop, you won't even know it happened." He said looking down at his shoes and then sitting up from his chair gracefully and walking out the door closing it behind him with a small click.
It took me longer to walk back to my truck than it had to get to the hospital. I sat in the cab silently, it was getting dark so it was peaceful except for the headlights of the other cars that passed me on the high way, passed my parked truck on the side of the road. My hands and head were leaning against the steering wheel and the tears began to fall, once they did they just didn't stop. I began to sob. Memories, hopeful wishes passed through my mind.
Me writing my own book and getting it published. Watching Jasper and Alice get Married. Falling in love with someone who I can't live without. Getting old, and sitting on the porch watching my grand kids run around with my husband sitting next to me drinking coffee or tea. It wasn't even possible now. I would be gone by the age of 23, wouldn't even make it till I was 24. My life ends before it has time to begin.
After what seemed like hours I eventually ran out of tears, my eyes hurt from crying and body was sore from shaking. I managed to start the truck and it roared to life. Ironically my bad luck seemed to be giving me a break.
Instead of heading back up to the apartment in Port Angles where I lived with Alice and Rosalie, I went to the Next Door Gastropub.
"I need my mind off of this and I need to stop thinking about it now!"
I walked in the door, the place being pretty packed as it was a Friday night and baseball game was on, I can already see Charlie sitting on his couch watching the game with pizza and a beer. Somethings never change.
I found an empty spot at the bar and sat on the stool, my head in my hands. Replaying the last few hours that felt like days.
"What can I get for you beautiful?" A raspy voice said, yelling over the chatter of everyone in the bar. I looked up to see a regular looking bartender leaning in with his greasy blond hair that was too long for my liking and his boring dull brown eyes, much like mine.
I signed, ignoring the ignorant comment towards me and just ordered a beer. He left to grab it, then sliding it down the bar and into my hand.
I didn't even care tonight, I just chugged the beer down like it was water, ordering another after that and another after that.
It was about 11:30pm and the bar was still full, but the load roar of the baseball fans had gone and now it was just a dull hum of the mindless chit chat going on around me and the steady bar music in the air. I was here for 2 hours and had downed 7 beers. I'm not much of a drinker so I had definitely had too much to drink too fast. I left $40 bucks on the bar and stumbled my way out to my truck.
I had my hand on the door handle of my truck and opened it when a large white hand slammed it shut from behind me. I whipped it around, already mad at this intrusion. Normally any other night I would be scared shitless at someone this close to me on a Friday night at 12 in the morning, but add a little liquid courage and I honestly didn't give a shit who it was. I just wanted to take my anger, hate and regret, and everything that was bottled up from today on someone, on anyone.
My vision was blurred and my head was spinning, but when I turned around I saw a very attractive man. He was tall, probably 6'2 standing over my 5'2 form. His bronze hair was wild but reminded me of a super model. He was lean but you noticed he worked out frequently as his arms were sculpted and his shoulders were prominent. His jaw line and face were something you would only see in a photo shopped picture of a model from Abercrombie and Fitch or something.
"What are you doing? Back off!" I argued, once again trying to open the truck door with as much force as I could, but his hand didn't even budge.
"You really think you should be driving, when you're like this?" His eye brows furrowed in frustration, the tone of his voice laced with annoyance and concern.
"It's none of your business, go and help someone who gives a flying fuck." I sneered back, anger prominent in my voice.
"Stop being such a bitch, let me call you a cab or something." He said back, calm lacing his voice as he still had his hand firmly on my truck door and had me pinned between him and my truck.
"Bite me." I replied giving him a shit eating grin just trying to piss him off more, I crossed my arms in front of my chest, almost challenging him. The simple movement made my balance falter though, my head began to spin even more and last thing I remember was the pavement coming dangerously close to my face, then everything went black.
Props to Imagineer1392 For being my Beta! :)
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