The Story of a Dying Girl

Wow! So good to see you! Haven't talked to you since last year!

Get it?

Funny, I know.

Anyways, here's a short chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it. It's kinda shitty, but I really wanted to get it up. I just came off a super delayed flight, and I'm super tired, and now I'm gonna go sleep.

Thank you for all the support, it never ceases to amaze me how truly lucky I am.

Also, like I said, I'm bad with technology, so I have another question. I'm not able to see reviews that happen after the 30th of December. I like to read reviews from other stories as well, and see if others feel the same as I do, but now it'll just say there are more reviews, and not show them. Any one have any ideas? Any one have the same problem? Or am I just kinda stupid and fucked something up? Please PM me if you know.

Thanks!

And let's get on with this show!

Chapter 28:

It had been a week since I sat on Emily's bed, telling her stories and asking her questions, never getting a response, but I guess that was unfair to ask.

But she hadn't woken up.

And it was breaking my heart.

Everyday I walked into the hospital, and everyday I walked into her room, and I sat on her bed, and I talked to her, and I put my jacket around her, and I kissed her, and nothing happened. I thought, I just thought that if I spoke a little louder, and if I read to her a little more, and if I kissed her a bit harder, then she would wake up, and the cancer would go away, and everyone would be happy.

But she didn't wake up, and the cancer was only more prominent, and no one seemed happy.

Well, no one who cared for Emily anyways.

Katie came in, and some days she would just sit there, crying silently, and other sometimes she just watched me, and sometimes she spoke a few sad words.

And nothing happened.

And I just didn't know what to do.

And in some way, it seemed like everyone was expecting me to know exactly that.

It seemed like they thought I had some answer, or some kind of plan, but in reality, I'm just a clueless kid who is watching everything fall apart before my very eyes, and I can't do anything to fix it.

So, I felt like I was five.

I held Emily's hand, probably a bit too tightly, and I begged her to come back to me.

"Please, Emily, you have to wake up. The doctors said you should have woken up three days ago. Please." My voice caught on the last word.

A nurse came in, long hair and a few wrinkle on her forehead.

"Do you need anything?" She asked politely, and you could see the pity in her smile, it was one that said, "I have seen this before. I will see this again. And I am sorry."

I need her to be alright.

"No, I'm okay."

I wasn't okay, but I think she already knew that. I think that most people wouldn't be all right at this moment, if they were talking to the person they love, and they never responded.

I didn't think she was asking for me to tell her all my despairs. I think she could see them in my eyes.

"Emily. Please."

I've been very passive aggressive lately.

I know it's unfair for me to take my anger out like that, but I can't help it. I know, it's fucked up, it really is, but like I said before, I don't know whom else to be mad at.

Take the other day for example.

Ned Rungter ran by my in the halls, and by mistake, knocked one of my books down.

"Sorry!" He called over his shoulder, starting to walk over to me.

"Watch we're you're going next time," I snapped, and mumbled something like "dickhead" under my breath.

And I know it was mean, and I even had that pit of guilt in my stomach when I saw the way he shrunk a bit after, but I was angry at the world, and I couldn't yell at the world.

So Ned would have to do.

Mum finished the milk and didn't tell me.

Before it would be fine.

Now it was basically her calling me demon spawn and declaring war.

So yeah, there's that, that being a lot of anger.

But also just a lot of sadness.

If I'm being honest, I'm just really sad.

There's no other way of putting it.

Songs sound different. Sadder and gloomier and they all seem to sing of heartbreak and despair.

The shows on TV all seem pointless and stupid, and I guess they always were, but even my favorite ones fail to spark a smile out of me.

The sky always seemed gloomy, and the birds that usually sang pleasant melodies made me want to claw my ears out.

Nothing really seemed to matter.

Not school, not all those stupid kinda friends that I had spent all that time making, not the books I should be reading, not the bands I loved, or the graduation coming up.

And as it became two weeks of Emily in a coma, I lost even more motivation to do all the things I had wanted to.

Nothing could really excite me.

Because sure, all the things I mentioned above are great, but what did they matter if there was no Emily?

What mattered at all if there was no Emily?

I know that maybe that sounds extreme, but to me it was true. Nothing really seemed to matter without that redhead by my side.

I made my way to the hospital cafeteria.

And I bought food, crap hospital food, and I sat at a small table, covered in mysterious stains.

"Hello."

I look up and see a man, maybe 40, standing awkwardly by the table.

"Mind if I take a seat?"

"Sure," I say awkwardly, not really sure what to do.

And so he sits down, and starts eating, all while I'm just staring at him, not entirely sure what it going on.

"I've seen you around, you know. My wife is like your girlfriend. She's been in a coma for a while now," he said quietly.

"Oh."

And I felt infinitely sadder now.

"I just keep thinking she'll wake up, you know?"

And I see the passing nurses look down at him with pity, sympathy.

They know something he won't acknowledge.

"How long has she, you know? If you don't mind me asking."

"A year. She'll wake up soon."

His eyes were like how Mrs. Incart's once were, begging, pleading with me to agree.

And I wondered if that's how I am. If that's how my eyes look, and if that's how the nurses look at me.

"Yeah, she'll wake up soon," I agree, swallowing a lump in my throat. And I know he doesn't believe me. But I also know that's what he needed to hear.

And I guess that was enough for him today, because he went back to eating.

"Please. Emily. Please. I need you. Please!" I was once again in her room, gripping onto her hand, and I was crying. She didn't grip my hand back.

I had been there, begging with her for an hour.

And nothing happened.

"Please."

She didn't move.

And now I was sobbing.

"Please. Please. Please. I love you. I need you."

The last words came out choked and mumbled.

And I sobbed.

Because what else was I supposed to do?

She wouldn't be all right would she?

I had denied it for so long, but this was it wasn't it?

This was how our story ends.

And if you had told me a few months ago when I was sitting in a bumper car at the fair, that this is how it would end, I would tell you to fuck off.

And now, it's the truth. And I have to accept that don't I?

Well how the fuck am I supposed to accept that?

No grip from her hand.

What was I supposed to do?

Am I gonna end up like that guy, waiting and waiting for the day that will never come?

The day when I'll be happy again, and she wakes up.

This was it, wasn't it?

And while I was sobbing my eyes out, coming to the most horrible realization I had ever come to, something miraculous happened.

I felt a grip from her hand.

"Naomi," her voice, her beautiful voice, her melodious voice, her fucking voice, croaked out weakly.

And I almost fainted right on the spot.

She was back.

The love of my life was back.

Boom!

Next chapter will be up on Sunday!

Let me know what you thought!