Disclaimer: I don't own the OC
Mayhem…'mA-"hem… "Willful and permanent deprivation of a bodily member resulting in the impairment of a person's fighting ability." Sometimes, the person struggling to fight must rest for awhile. Sometimes, the people trying to fight for others must let the individuals fight their own battles. Sometimes a person needs to know when to say good-bye…I love you…I'll see you again someday. However, sometimes not everything is as it seems. The little girl with tiny fists rubbed her eyes exhausted, but refused to fall asleep. She sat curled up in a little chair beside a slumbering woman that refused to wake up. The little girl counted her Mommy's two eyes, one nose, and one mouth…her hair was gone…there were funny pencil lines across her forehead. Sometimes the little girl couldn't see her Mommy anymore, but then she would just place her hand over her heart and listen to the familiar beating finding the similar beating in her heart.
Ella thought her Mommy looked like a princess in a fairy tale waiting for her prince to come wake her. She had tried to tell Daddy that, but he had just stared at her until Aunt Summer gently took her hand and led her away. She wished her Mommy would wake up. Leaning over her mother to reach her ear, she whispered loudly, "I promise to never fight with Nealy and be nice to Grace. I will be a good girl Mommy, I promise you. I'll even give up chocolate chip cupcakes if you wake up." Ella held her breath and peered into her Mommy's unresponsive face. That was the best promise she had come up with since the last one…twenty minutes ago. Ella leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes trying to think of something else she could promise to get her Mommy to want to come back to her.
Sitting hunched in the dim hallway, Nealy leaned against the hard cement wall for support. Hearing a noise, she snapped her head back banging it hard on the cement wall. Ella was promising things again. Tears threatened to fall, but Nealy refused to cry. Deciding this physical pain of banging her head was better than the other kind; she banged her head again and again and again.
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The clock ticked in an animosity pattern in the back corner tick…tock…tick…tock…tick…Seth had to shake his head to get rid of the vibrating sounds. He had to focus now…He had to be strong. He sat between two people that were already falling apart with their eyes open in paralyzing pain. Their pains radiated into his gut making him feel ill. He already felt ill; she was one of his best friends…almost a sister. One hand gripped a slender smooth hand while the other leaned almost casually on a shoulder trying to convey everything in its presence.
"I'm not sure if I am following you, Dr. Brown." Sandy leaned forward in his chair and faced the doctor earnestly. "You said the operation seemed to be successful."
"That is correct; it appears that the mass was completely removed."
"Then why isn't she waking up? Why isn't she undergoing chemotherapy to ensure it never comes back?"
"I know this is hard to understand. During the surgery, there were complications." Dr. Brown hesitated when Ryan Atwood looked up into his eyes for the first time in days. "Her heart stopped beating and consequently her brain was deprived of oxygen for several minutes before we were able to get the heart to start pumping again. We don't know if all the cancer is gone, but the tumor is removed. As for not waking up, that seems to be a product of the oxygen lost. Marissa slipped into a coma…it might be her body's way of fighting or it might be shutting down in days, hours…we really don't know."
"So is she going to ever wake up?" Whispered Summer as she stared at the doctor with puffy red eyes. "Is she ever going to see her daughters and husband? Is she going to grow old?" Summer's voice cracked on the last sentence and waved away Seth's hand that was trying to get her to calm down.
Ryan closed his eyes as a fresh waterfall of pain descended his body. He didn't know it was possible to feel this most pain. Summer's words were becoming the boundaries of despair and forgotten hope. Her words rang throughout his head making his heart feel like it had stopped beating too. The memory refused to stop playing in his aching head.
Trying to find warmth and comfort, Ryan pulled her even closer until not even a breath separated them. He could smell her strawberry shampoo and slightly baby powered smell from Grace. Tracing her features as if he was trying to memorize her face, he saw her slowly close her eyes. Thinking she had fallen asleep, he was startled when she opened her eyes and started speaking.
"I'm not going to leave you or the girls, Ryan." She gazed into his eyes and spoke each word carefully. "I'm going to beat this, we all are." Smiling gently in the silver moonlight she continued, "I want to see Grace start kindergarten, get into fights with Nealy because you know that is going to happen (Ryan chuckled slightly at that wondering how she could still make him laugh), watch Ella go on to college, and grow old with you rocking on the front porch…"
He wondered why he didn't feel it when her heart stopped. Weren't they connected as one? Shouldn't his heart have stopped too? But by fault, this theory meant that he should have cancer too, and he was still sitting here with his heart beating but breaking.
"I'm sorry to day, we can monitor her progress and start a round of chemo…but we can't make her suddenly wake up from the comma. I'm so sorry. I'll let you have a minute to decide exactly what you want to do."
How could the news of cancer being destroyed be overshadowed by another but similar destructive blow? How long could a person hope and hold on to a form of faith. When does a person decide it is time to give up and leave the world for heavenly bonds?
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Everybody visited…everybody hoped…everybody couldn't bear to say good-bye.
Each time a person would visit, he or she would mark a day as it went by. The calendar hung on the wall right next to the pretty flowers. Sometimes the flowers were roses or daisies or sunflowers…nevertheless, they were always bright and cheery. Some people would pull a chair up and grasp her hand chattering away about the weather, the girls, the new dog Sandy decided to bring home much to Kristen's dismay, the movie just shown in the theatre. The little girls were growing up as the seasons changed and days moved around the sun. They would climb into bed with their Mommy and read her stories, braid the hair that was growing in, and whisper secrets that nobody else could hear into her ear. Her best friend always brought a different color nail polish each week. Sometimes it was fiery red or moody blue. It was never the same color. She would sit there painting her friend's nails and discussing possible baby names for her expanding stomach. The love of her life would visit everyday and sometimes more then once. He would bring with him comfort and love. Telling her stories about their daughters and best friends, he tried to trigger some response from his wife. Everyday, he felt like a part of his heart had been carved out and left empty. Seth brought music and blared it and laughing at the thought of him and Marissa Cooper having something in common after all. Kristen would sit quietly sometimes talking and other times just sitting there as comfort…a friendly and loving warmth. All the lives continued to move along the timeline called life despite the fact that a pertinent part of their family was laying in the hospital. Months turned into seasons, seasons into years, and one year became two, then three. It wasn't that any of them had given up hope; instead they refused to believe that the impossible might happen. The cancer appeared to be gone, but her life still hung in limbo. So it startled Summer one day when she was chatting about shopping for a baby crib, and her friend's eyes snapped open and stared right back at her.
Thanks for reading!