VINTAGEhearts, there is a reason why Shane can't be a vampire – I think it will be explained in the next chapter.
Sunday 12th June – 7am:
Dear diary,
The last three weeks have been magical, pure heaven on earth. I can't believe how much of the country I had missed out on seeing in my short life – outside of Texas, I had been to Washington DC and that was it. Shane had been to, well, Morganville and then a few places with his parents when they left but he hadn't really gotten the chance to appreciate it with, you know, the entire 'vampires murdering his mother' thing that they had going on.
But I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO PACK MY DIARY! I was so annoyed with myself when I went to go and write about our time in New York (the first place we decided to go to) and I found a space where my diary had been allocated space. Then I remembered when I wrote about our wedding day the morning that we went on honeymoon and how I placed my diary on the table… when I returned home yesterday, I raced upstairs to confirm it was there and it was.
So what did we do over the last three weeks? Well, firstly we went to New York and we visited like everywhere there was to visit: we had breakfast at Tiffany's, visited Roosevelt Island, went to the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building… everywhere you could want to visit, we did. I even went to a baseball game that Shane wanted to go to (the team we supported lost… it wasn't good) because I wouldn't let him go ice-skating – cancer patient plus ice is not a good idea, especially when you throw sharp skates into the equation.
Then we went to Las Vegas, and if we hadn't have had Amelie's credit card, I wouldn't know what we would have done. From Las Vegas, we went to Miami, Los Angeles and every other major city in the country. I can't even begin to name every place we went to or what we did because I would be here for another year: this is the reason why I ought to have taken my diary with me, so that I didn't forget anything… not that we didn't take enough pictures. Seriously, I think we filled a memory card every place we went to, we took so many!
It'll be something for me to have to remember Shane when he has gone because, I have to admit it, he isn't going to be here forever. Neither am I, but at least my D-Day is (hopefully) decades ahead of his meagre months… I don't think… oh my god, there is only about two and a half months left! How will I co-
…
Sorry, I had to put my diary under the newspaper: Michael came into the kitchen and I didn't particularly want him reading it. After all, a diary is private and it's only filled with my ramblings about how much I am going to miss Shane. This will be my sort of reminder of everything that we have done together, along with the scrapbook I'm going to make from our honeymoon.
"You ok?" Michael asked me as he entered the kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee from the pot I prepared.
"Yeah, fine," I grinned back, hiding the fear I was feeling underneath the slightly manic smile I flashed him.
"Whoa, you're browner than a Brazilian monkey!" he exclaimed as he caught sight of my face for the first time since I returned: last night, we went straight to bed because we were so tired but he was out anyway.
"I have been told that… I think," I frowned, trying to remember if what the dude in L.A said was that or something similar. This only succeeded in making Michael laugh loudly and ruffle my hair.
"How was he?" he asked me and I knew that he was talking about the cancer. I sighed and he hugged me, this being the only thing that held the tears in.
"He… it was fine, the only time he looked unwell in front of me was when we were in Miami… but he disappeared sometimes and I think it was that," I whispered, afraid my voice would crack if I spoke any louder.
Michael hugged me tighter for a moment before releasing me and heading for the door. "I'm gonna go and get a shower and then I'll see if he's getting up, okay?" he smiled at me and I nodded, thankful that he would see Shane. When I left him this morning, his face… it still haunts me now: it was so contracted in pain; it made me think I was in pain as well.
But back to what I was saying before, about Shane. He doesn't have long left and I don't think we can carry on with the pranks anymore – he doesn't have the energy. He needs to relax… and I think we just need to be together, more than anything.
3pm
Oh my god…. Just after I put the pen down and left my diary, Michael yelled for me to come upstairs: evidently he had already showered and dressed and went to wake up Shane.
"What is it?" I asked as I raced up the stairs and into mine and Shane's room, my heart pounding. There was a part of me that expected him to say that Shane wasn't waking up and that he was dead.
"Call an ambulance," he ordered me as he got Shane into the recovery position. Eve was out somewhere so she didn't know, but I picked up my phone with shaking hands and dialled for an ambulance to come. Then I moved across to look at Shane: his face was drawn and bone white, paler than Michael's skin, and there was something so pained about his expression that it blew the one from earlier out of the window.
"Go and let them in, Claire, you shouldn't see this," Michael, once again, ordered me but I was divided. Part of me wanted to stay with my husband, to stay with the man I love, but part of me couldn't bear to see him like that and wanted to get the hell away. "GO!" he screamed at me and that was what made me go. Seeing Michael react like that made me know that it must be bad, whatever was going on, so I left.
Mere minutes later, the ambulance arrived and I told them where he was before curling back up on the sofa. I couldn't believe that this was happening: we had only just gotten back from honeymoon - we still haven't even unpacked and this had happened!
"You coming, Claire?" Michael asked me as Shane was wheeled down on a trolley by the ambulance crew, who were already hurrying to the ambulance. I nodded, knowing I definitely couldn't stay in the house alone, and Michael picked me up from the sofa and carried me out to the ambulance. We got in the back but couldn't sit anywhere near Shane because the… the ambulance person was injecting him with so many different things; it was as if they didn't know what was wrong with him.
"What's happened?" I whispered to nobody in particular, I only wanted an answer. But the ambulance dude ignored me and Michael only held me tighter in comfort with one hand, the other frantically texting Eve to tell her where we were heading. I couldn't move or do anything – I was catatonic with fear for Shane. Sitting here by his bedside, waiting for him to awaken, I still almost am, besides for my hand on the paper.
Driving like a lunatic, we arrive at the hospital in less than five minutes, there already being a team ready to help Shane and to take him straight to the A&E department. Michael and I slowly got out of the ambulance, entirely forgotten about – but I didn't want to be the focus of attention. That had to be Shane, so that he could get better.
We headed into the hospital and were told to wait in the waiting room for what felt like hours, before we were told that we could see him.
"He could be unconscious for as long as three days," the doctor told us before we entered the room, Eve still not here. "I take it that Shane didn't share with you the news I divulged before he left?" he confirmed, and the blank expression on our faces confirming this.
"All he told us was that he had an appointment here, but he refused to say anything further," Michael verbally putting this across.
"Then I shall have to tell you, for you need to know," the doctor sighed and I knew then that this wasn't good. "Shane's cancer is much more aggressive than Dr Mills thought. So much so that… we doubt he will make it into July," he revealed.
I couldn't accept it. I just collapsed in Michael's arms and couldn't accept that the ten or so weeks I thought I had, possibly more, is now barely three. That isn't right… I couldn't accept that whatsoever and my vehement shaking of my head confirmed that.
"No, no, no," I cried, tears bursting through my eyelids almost like a waterfall. "You're wrong, please… please… you have to be wrong, please," I begged but the doctor shook his head but told Michael that we could go in now.
I couldn't move, so Michael had to lift me into the room and this is where I am now. I didn't move for a definite two hours besides to link my fingers in with Shane's before I finally found the inner strength to move. And here I am, writing my diary as to Shane's death now, him unconscious and Michael meeting Eve outside.
I can't have him dying. I wasn't even prepared to loose him in September, let alone soon. I can't have it… I need to be selfish… perhaps…
…perhaps Amelie can help me…
Whatcha think?
Please review!
Vicky xx