The Story of a Dying Girl
Hey.
This is probably the shortest chapter yet. I'm sorry about that. I think part of the reason I keep on writing short chapters is because this story is kinda coming to a close, and this is the first chapter story I've ever written, and it scares me to be coming to an end with it. What if I think of all these different things when it's over? What if I feel like I could have done it better? We still have quiet a few chapters left, but I have one particular scene in my head that will come near the end, and I know I'll be writing it soon, and I just don't want to end this anytime soon.
Thanks again to everyone for all the support. I will never be ever to thank you guys enough. I mean that.
It's currently raining here, and I love the rain, and it's very nice and soothing, but anyways, here we go!
Chapter 25:
"I hate it here Naomi."
I don't really know what to do when I hear this. I already knew the hospital was not exactly a five star hotel at some exotic, beautiful location. I already knew that she hated it.
But I couldn't change the fact that that is where she was currently lying.
I couldn't do anything about that.
"Ems, I know, I know, trust me I know. But I don't know what else to do."
I didn't know what else to do.
I meant it.
I rarely knew what I was doing. Ever. Some people had their whole lives planned ahead of them since they were in kindergarten. I didn't even know what I was gonna have for breakfast tomorrow.
But this time was different. This time I was utterly clueless at what I would do next. What I could do next.
So when I said I didn't know what else to do, I wasn't just talking about the hospital.
Emily was quiet for a bit.
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "maybe I should just leave this place."
"The hospital? You can't do that," I said like it was obvious, because it was. It was obvious.
Because she had to stay here.
Because she had to get better.
Because she had to.
"Naoms, I've been here for a while, and… I've tried treatments, and I've taken pills, and nothing is changing. I haven't gotten any better. Naoms, you and I both know it."
It was true.
But I couldn't just agree. I couldn't just accept it. How was I to do that?
Was I just supposed to accept this?
I can't.
"Emily, you have to stay here."
"But I don't want to! I can't stay here and just… die! I need to make the most of my time."
"But you have to stay here."
"I. Don't. Want. To." She painfully punctuated each word.
"Well then what happens next?" I had been standing against the wall during out conversation, and now I slowly slid down until I was sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to my chest.
"… I don't know."
I placed my head in my hands.
"… Neither do I."
And so we were sat there, her cross-legged on the bed, me curled up, sitting against the ball, and we were just staring at each other, lost at what we would do next.
What were we supposed to do?
Was there some kinda book that outlined this exactly?
How to Deal With Your Life Going to Complete and Utter Shit
I looked at her for what was probably the millionth time in my life.
She looked sickly beautiful.
She was, and always will be, beautiful.
But she looked sick.
She just did.
"You're beautiful," I said finally, because it needed to be said.
She scoffed.
"I'm not."
"Yes you are. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
"Naoms-"
"You're like a goddess, you're so beautiful."
"Naoms, I'm not-"
"But you are! The most beautiful girl in the entire fucking world!"
"I think that's you."
"Well I think that's you."
And she laughed.
"Alright, space cadet," she said, using the nickname I hadn't heard in a while.
I smiled, and I stood up, emitting a grunt that sounded as unpleasant as it was to make.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked around the room, looking at the pictures that were all around the room, a lot of them of us, and the movie posters, and Carny, who sat loyally in the corner.
I walked over to her, and I hugged her softly.
We stayed like that for a bit.
And it was nice.
Mrs. Incart looked tired on the Tuesday morning during which I was sat down at one of the desks, looking at all the things that had ben carved in it over the years.
I sat at the back of the classroom, and I read all the different words.
"Mr. Jimingsonton sucks dick"
Charming.
"Trixie and Ben 4 Ever"
"Class of 1996"
"Fuck"
Mrs. Incart looked out the window. She looked a lot calmer than she had before.
I didn't realize it at first. What happened that day.
I took my pencil, and carved in something new to the desk:
"Emily and Naomi for all of eternity"
Mrs. Incart was quiet, and she made a twisting motion around her finger, like she was taking something off. There was no drink this morning. There was no makeup. There was no large jewelry.
And I still didn't realize what was happening.
And it was later in the class when I glanced up, and something bright caught my eye.
A ring.
It was laid on the table, and she was looking down at it.
And in one motion, she picked it up, and put it in the trash.
And I didn't realize it at the time, but that was the moment when Mrs. Incart took off the makeup, and she would leave it off. And she didn't have a drink with her, and she wouldn't be bringing any more.
That was the moment when she threw away her wedding ring.
And for the first time the whole year, she looked at our class, and gave us an actual smile. A genuine one.
"Turn to page 353 in your books," she said. It was the first time she would really teach us anything this year.
And it was the first time she was happy this year, and probably for a lot longer than that to be honest.
Cook sat at Uncle Keith's, drinking a beer when I got there.
"Naomio!" He bellowed, and flashed me his pearly yellow teeth.
"We're gonna need some tequila!" He shouted at no one in particular, and I sat down next to him.
"Cook, it's a Tuesday for fuck's sake!" I swatted at his arm, but I couldn't help but smile.
It was an odd thing to describe our friendship.
But I guess I'll simplify it like this:
It is and will always be the greatest friendship Cook or I will ever have.
To put it modestly.
And so I had a beer, and he had some tequila.
He had a lot of tequila.
He had too much tequila.
And I walked to the hospital, and for the first time in a while it wasn't raining, and I wasn't sure if that meant anything special.
I thought about.
I concluded a minute later that it didn't.
Emily was wide awake when I got there.
She had a large smile on her face, and it return, I smiled at the sight.
"Hey smiley girl."
"It's hard to not smile when I see you."
My heart soared.
"Aww. That's really fucking cheesy, but awww."
She laughed.
"I have an idea," I said finally, and she immediately looked intrigued.
"Tell me more."
"Well, not for now."
"Meanie."
"But soon, I promise."
It was Saturday when I made good on the promise.
It was really early that morning, and I walked into her room, and I gently woke her up.
"Emily. Ems. Honey, sweetie. Wake up Ems."
"Naoms." Her voice was full of sleep.
"I wanna show you something."
"Can it wait?"
"No. this can't wait."
And so she gently, slowly sat up, and I grabbed the wheelchair I had found, (and before you give me shit about just grabbing a wheelchair randomly from a hospital, I asked a nurse and she said, "Sure, but who the fuck are you, and why the hell are you here so early?") and helped her into it.
She put all her weight onto me as I set her down softly onto it, and then I pushed her.
Past the sleeping patients.
Past the nurses who gave us strange looks.
Into the elevator.
Up the floors.
Onto the roof.
And then I wheeled her into the spot. The spot that would be the best.
And I waited.
"Naoms, what are we waiting for?" She asked, her brow cutely furrowed.
"Just wait for it."
And I counted.
1
2
3
4
5
6…
And finally, it came.
The sun rose, beautifully, spectacularly.
The colors blended and filled the sky, but none of that even held a candle to the look on Emily's face as she watched it.
"This is beautiful," she said, mouth agape, face caught in disbelief.
"I've seen more beautiful," I said, looking right at her.
She looked back at me, tears welling in her eyes.
"So have I."
I leaned down and kissed her.
I could feel the sun on my face.
I could feel her arms around my neck.
I smiled so large, it hurt my face.
And when we pulled away, we leaned our foreheads together.
"Emily Fitch, you're all my sunrises."
I'm just one cheese machine. I know, I know.
Okay, so the next chapter will be up on Sunday.
How was it? I know this one was short, and probably kinda shit, and I'm sorry about that.
Anyways.
Let me know what you thought.