The Story of a Dying Girl

Hello! So sorry about the wait!

Okay, so this chapter is a bit shorter and probably kinda shit because I wrote the whole thing in the last couple of hours.

I did not have access my computer this weekend, and I wasn't able to write until today.

Thanks once again for everything.

I'm just gonna apologize in advance.

Chapter 14:

Do you want the good news or the bad news first?

I usually ask for the bad news first, so that way I can end on a positive note.

But then again, some people want to begin on a positive note.

Oh fuck.

You know what?

I've got an idea.

I'll flip a coin.

Heads = bad news first

Tails = good news first

Also, why do people choose heads because they think that it's more likely? There is literally a 50 percent chance either way.

But anyways, I'll flip the coin.

Tails.

Okay, so the good news is that I managed to find two more movies.

They were from some people who were having a garage sale.

And imagine my surprise when Orange Delusional and The Adventures of Charles the Dog were just sitting on one of the tables.

So, I walked up to the man with a bad toupee and smelled of cheese and asked him how much the movies were.

Now, here was the part where you are expecting me to tell you that they were maybe $10 each.

Well, for people who are actually sane that is what they would charge.

For people who were fucking deranged and wore stupid shirts unironically, this was where they charge you $50 a movie.

I am not someone who just has that kind of money to spend like that.

And so this was the part where I looked bummed out, and waited until the old tosser turned his back to go shout at his wife.

And this was the part where I grabbed the movies, and walked away, leaving $10, so I wouldn't be a total asshole.

I now have 10 of 15 movies, which is pretty fucking impressive if you ask me?

What's that?

Oh, you didn't ask me?

Oh… never mind then.

And now here comes the bad news.

I know, I'm sorry to be the sadist of the party.

"The sadist of the party? What's that?" you may ask.

Oh you know, the guy who sits in the corner and hisses death chants.

We've all been there.

But the bad news was Emily's hair fell out a bit more, and this led to a very awful realization that only more would leave her, and with that she cried again, and I held her in my arms as her body shook, and when she was done, I kissed her eyelids ever so slightly. And it's a very strange thing to kiss eyelids, but it felt like the right thing to do, and really, it's hard to not want to kiss every inch of her body.

And yes, for those of you with dirty minds, those parts too.

It's hard to watch someone who you think is truly, devastatingly beautiful think that they are not, that they look ugly, or silly, or anything like that. So when I took her on a date, bowling, she seemed so nervous.

And at first I put it down to her being nervous about the mad bowling skills she probably thought I acquired, which I did not.

But as the night when on, it became clear that she nervous not because of my talent, or really, lack of talent, but because she thought everyone was watching her.

"They probably think you feel bad for me, or like, you're volunteering to take me out of the hospital and spend the day with me," she had said write as I started my bowl.

At hearing this, I rolled the ball into the gutter.

"What? Why would you think that?" I could not believe what I was hearing.

If anything, she would be the one volunteering to take socially inept people like me out of their houses.

"Look at me Naomi," she said, gesturing to herself.

And so I looked at her.

I really looked at her.

And she looked beautiful. Really, stunningly beautiful.

She looked a little sick, her skin a bit paler, but really, she looked amazing. Really. I mean it. And you might think I'm bullshitting you, but I'm not. Please believe me when I say that she looked more beautiful than anyone else I had ever seen in the entirety of my 18 years.

"I'm looking at you Ems. And you look so incredibly beautiful."

"I'm sick Naomi. My hair is falling out. I'm paler and I look… sick."

And she was right.

But she was wrong, because she looked amazing.

"I don't think anyone else looks more beautiful than you do."

"Naomi, look at me."

"I am."

"Nomi…"

"Emily, please believe me. I don't know how else to say it. You look beautiful. Hair, no hair, whatever. Pale, or… less pale. I. Love. You."

And she seemed satisfied, with this, and so she hugged me, ad I picked her up a bit and spun her around, and she started to laugh, and things seemed fine.

"You really do suck at this," she laughed after I had hit an incredible two pins.

"My bad."

And with that we were laughing.

And then a few days later we were sitting on my bed, laughing.

"Okay, so would you rather have to eat your way out of an cage of cheese, or be a car tire for a day?"

"What kind of fucked up question is that?"

"A good one, now answer it."

"Cheese."

"Fucking knew it."

"What, how?"

"Ems, face it, you fucking love cheese, and being a car tire sounds fucking awful."

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Wait.

What?

The question had come from fucking nowhere.

"Yes, I think you are very pretty."

"And my hair? What if people stare?"

"Let them stare. They have just never seen someone so amazing."

"Maybe I'll get a wig."

And with that I sprang up from my bed and ran into my closet, digging for something.

"Naomi? Is this your way of telling me you're going back into the closet?"

"Ha, bloody, ha."

And I pulled out a black beanie.

"Ta da!" I said, gesturing to the beanie.

"What?"

"It's a beanie," I said stating the obvious. "A lesbian staple. I mean, what else screams, 'I'm very very homosexual?'"

And she started to laugh, loudly and fully as I walked over and placed it on the top of her head.

She smiled, biting her lip, and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me on top of her and onto the bed, and I became very very excited at the idea of what would happen next.

And there went her beanie, just as soon as it had been put on, and there went my jacket, thrown onto the floor, heart and peace patch and all, and there went my shirt, and her shirt, and our pants.

And there went her bra, and there went mine.

And gone was her underwear, and mine had disappeared too.

It was raining again, and it seemed like it was always raining as I flipped us over from the previous position, and my room was dark, the shades drawn, and dim, and it was a mess, but none of that mattered.

"Make love to me Naomi."

That was something you don't hear everyday.

And that's what we did.

I could go into detail, and maybe one day I will, but right now I won't.

But I will tell you this.

It was a scary thing at first. I was scared to hurt her, it seemed like she would be so much more fragile than last time, with the chemotherapy taking its toll, and everything.

But things were great.

Well, things were great until we were cuddling, naked, my mum decided to come upstairs, into my room.

"Love, I was wondering if you had seen my- oh!" And with that she was looking lovingly at me, and I was very unhappy with this.

"Mum! Get the fuck out!" I screeched as Emily tried to hide behind me.

"Now, no need to be rude love, it's all apart of life. Very natural. I remember when I was your age-"

"Stop talking! Please!"

"Oh alright love."

She shut the door, and I was staring at Emily, who had begun laughing, despite the fact that this was not a very fun situation for me.

"Oh Naoms, don't be such a grump."

"Ems… my mother had just walked in on me- naked."

"Would you have rather it been my dad? Or how about my brother? Katie?"

No, no, and no.

And so I pouted, yes, I pouted, and so she rolled her eyes, and kissed me, and I forgot what I was mad about.

It is a very lovely Tuesday, if I do say so, and I am carrying her books to class, and the day is still starting, and Emily's hair is still there, but less than previous.

And of course people stared and whispered, because when you're in high school, no one wants to be different, really.

I mean, I know I said being normal is bad, and it really is, but at the same time, you get made fun of when you aren't normal.

And so people whispered because Emily looked different, not like normal Emily.

It made me mad. And it made Katie mad too.

Because Katie did not care about a whole lot, but she did care about Emily, and really, those Fitchs could be scary.

I mean, Emily's dad was fucking terrifying, and her sister took after him in that respect.

And people received her glare and shut up, and things would have been fine if I had not been faced with a cross between Godzilla and fucking bigfoot, or her given name: Mandy.

Mandy was a bitch. She was a part of the bully group, which was pretty fucking scary.

It was the only group I had never made friends with.

And so fucking big bitch was standing there sneering at Emily, and it was really pissing me off.

So normal me would have tried to brush it off, tried to just roll my eyes and walk past, but Emily looked so self conscious, and Mandy wouldn't shut the fuck up, and so I took a deep breath, like all young prey do before they march up to some big fucking predator, passing Ems her books and ignoring her protests.

And Mandy was still pointing by the time I walked up.

"Is there a problem?" I asked, trying to muster courage I could not find.

"No, just," she laughed, "fucking nice of you Campbell isn't it? I mean, she's gonna lose all her hair, she's probably gonna look really fucking ugly, huh? Yeah, wouldn't want to be you."

I have never really gotten into a fight.

Okay, scratch that.

For one week in first grade, I was the schoolyard badass.

Her name was Addie Miviskin, and she very mean.

And things would have been fine, but she started bullying people, more and more, and I watched it happen, and then things got worse because she started bullying a kid named JJ.

Now, neither Cook or I were friends with JJ, but JJ was autistic, and I felt bad that he was just some kid, playing in the sandbox, all alone with the broken toy cars left behind in there, and that now he had to deal with the bitch that was Addie.

And so I intervened. The fight can't really be considered a fight, and it was over before it even really began.

But this was way different.

And so here was Mandy, laughing at Emily, and red-hot anger was coursing through me, and so I moved closer.

"What did you say?"

And she laughed again.

"You heard me."

Well obviously you stupid bitch. I was trying to see if you were smart enough to change your answer.

Obviously not.

And with that I pushed her back a bit, and a crowd gathered, and you could hear the clichéd oohs and ahs.

"Oh, you did not just do that."

I was also asking myself that. Did I really just push her? She's a fucking sasquatch, for fuck's sake.

She punched me. In the fucking eye.

I clutched at my face, already regretting this, and my next move, as I walked over, and hit her, very hard in the eye.

And with that she kind of tackled me, and we were rolling around, punching and shoving on the ground, and my nose was bleeding, and the crowd was chanting, and I was just trying to not die.

Cook had taught me something once a long time ago in case I ever got in a fight.

"Punch hard, fucking hard." Had been his advice, which I had kind figured out on my own.

But I was getting angry, very angry, and part of it was because Mandy had been mean to Emily, and the other part was because I was angry at the world, and I was taking it out on Mandy, and maybe that wasn't fair, because I guess it wasn't really her fault either. As mean as Mandy was, it wasn't her fault that Emily had cancer, but Mandy had made me angry, and so now here I was, punching harder than maybe thought was possible, and getting punched harder that thought.

It seemed to be taking fucking ages, but it couldn't have been longer than five minutes before teachers came and the back of my jacket was grabbed, and we were pulled up, and Mr. Dirken was trying to restrain Mandy, and Mrs. Incart had grabbed my ear, and I wanted to struggle or to try and get her off, but just like it wasn't Mandy's fault, Mrs. Incart didn't have any part of this.

And she didn't need this, she really didn't.

She needed something positive, and this wasn't it, and so we were frog marched down to the principal's office, and I should have been scared and regretting my choices, but I couldn't, because she had hurt my Emily, and I was understanding her dad, and why he threatened me in case I hurt his Emily.

And punishments were given, detentions and stuff that was supposed to make me nervous and scared, but I didn't care, because I didn't regret my actions.

"So, do you two understand?"

And we nodded.

"Do you two feel any regret?"

Mandy turned to me, and she didn't really seem to care, and so she shrugged, nose dripping blood, as was mine, and holding icepacks, as was I.

"Naomi?"

I cleared my throat.

"I don't regret it sir."

Maybe in his mind that was the wrong answer, but it was the honest one.

And I walked out of the office, and he was calling after me, but I didn't care, and I walked over to a locker, one belonging to some nameless kid, and I hit it, I hit it again and again with only more anger, just like I had Mandy, and I hit it until my knuckles were bleeding, because I was made at the world.

I was so fucking mad at the world, and for giving me something so wonderful, Emily, and for hurting her right in front of my own eyes.

I hit it one last time, with one last thud, and I walked back into the principal's office, ignoring the questioning looks.

"Sorry about that. I was just so angry, I thought that if I didn't go punch a locker, I might have to staple my own hand to the desk. Please continue."

"Right… uhhh, okay. You guys are free to go, no suspensions this time, but this is the warning. You have Saturday school."

And I walked out of the office, but I still felt angry.

At lunch I was sitting in the library with Cook, who I had just finished giving the details of the fight as he grinned and patted my back.

"Nomi! There you are," Emily said, walking in, and immediately cupping me face.

"Oh, your poor eye. Does it hurt?"

"It's okay."

She kissed it gently, and it felt so nice, even though it stung a bit.

And she turned to look at the phone, and she sat in my lap, and Katie, who had followed Emily into the library, sat in Cook's, and yes, my knuckles were bruised, as was my face, but I couldn't complain, because I really was happy with her here.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Absolutely not."

"There are a multitude of reasons as to why not."

"Oh, live a little Naomikins."

I was sitting on Cook's couch on Saturday after Saturday school, who had paused our movie, and was looking at me like a loon.

"I don't want to get my face bashed in again."

"She won't catch us T.P.-ing her house."

"Yes, Mandy probably has some kinda of third eye or something creepy like that."

"Not if we're quick."

Well, I really couldn't argue with that logic.

So I walked outside, taking out my phone and calling Emily.

"We have a plan."

"Continue."

And that is how Katie, Emily, Cook, and I ended up on Mandy's lawn, with a gym bag full of toilet paper rolls, and dressed in black, looking like tossers.

Game plan?

Fucking trash the place.

We grabbed rolls, filling our arms, and ran around, like it was a playground and we were overjoyed five year olds.

It was like a winter wonderland, strands of paper hanging off trees and bushes and coating the ground.

The place was filled with white, and yes, the eco warrior in me was screaming about the trees dying for my pity act of revenge, but I shook my head and grabbed another roll.

And I was laughing with Emily, throwing rolls and rolls somewhere that I wasn't paying attention to.

And the lights were hit on, and we heard a distinctly frustrated male voice yelling, and so we ran, away from our mess, laughing, and trying to hurry as I constantly checked back to make sure Emily was still keeping up.

We were standing in some nameless park, and we began to laugh, Katie shoving Cook playfully as we shook our heads.

"It's a good fucking thing you didn't wear heels, huh?" I laughed.

"Shut it Campbell."

And we were elbowing each other playfully, and Cook was looking around deviously, obviously proud at our act of revenge.

I felt like we were nine again, and stealing candy from candy shops, and I can't help but think how much better it would have been had Emily been there too, but I think my whole life would have been better if she was in it for longer.

Monday is finally here, and Mandy looks pissed, but she always looks pissed so it doesn't matter.

But what does matter is that chemotherapy is today.

And it matters because she is clutching my hand very tightly, and she looks panicked as they strap her up, and she's being too quiet for my liking, and things are too still, and we are just sitting and holding hands, and I'm reading aloud to her, and she is closing her eyes and nodding, and she had a soft smile on her lips, and I'm hoping it's genuine, and I hope that she is happy, because I can't stand the thought her that smile being forced like Mrs. Incart's.

So we are sitting, and she has begun to drift off, her head still on my shoulder a I continue to read aloud, and I continue to check on her, making sure she's comfortable, and that she's okay.

And eventually I find my eyes closing to, and so I put the book to the side, and I kiss her head, and I cuddle into her, my eyes closing to her gentle snores.

I really love her.

I have said it before, but I mean it when I say it:

I will marry this girl one day.

And that is a promise.

I'm so sorry.

I know, I know, but I really wanted to stick by what I said and post it on time, and I hope you don't hate it.

I will start chapter 15 now, and it will either be up Thursday or Sunday, because once again, I won't have access to my computer this weekend.

Chapter 15 will be in Emily's pov, and we will learn more about what made her first go to the doctor and learn she had cancer.

I'd like to take credit for this idea, but it was NegroAmigo's, so thank you for that.

A guest named Mm gave me the idea for the beanie, and another guess gave me the idea for Naomi to take care of Emily in the last chapter.

Thank you for those ideas.

If you have an idea for the story, let me know. I might not include it, because I already have some ideas and I kind of know how I want to end this, even though we are not close to the end yet, but I will try to include them. No promises that I will, and please do not think that you're idea is bad if I don't include it.

Anyways, let me know what you thought!