The Story of a Dying Girl
Hey. What's up?
So I am still working on chapter 13, but I will try to get that done soon. This chapter involves a sex scene- I know, brace yourselves for the awkwardness. It also involves a lot more of the cancer.
This takes place from Emily's pov. I'm really nervous about it.
Thank you once again for everything.
So, away we go!
Chapter 11: Emily
The little intricate heart is hanging proudly from my neck.
She gave it to me three weeks ago, and I haven't gone a day without wearing it since then.
Naomi.
Naomi Campbell, blue eyes, blonde hair, soft smile, sweet lips, sarcastic replies, awkward and adorable, and…
My girlfriend.
She would go on and on about how lucky she is, how beautiful I am, how incredibly out of her league I am.
But I would disagree in a heartbeat.
Because I have been practically obsessed with her since we were little kids, and when she fell off the monkey bars from laughing and I realized that she was not like all the other little kids.
Does that make sense?
Christ Emily, I sound like some kind of obsessed psycho.
But, back to what I was saying.
And despite my fascination with her, I had never really known her, aside from a few conversations and a few times I looked at her in class when she wrote, and her tongue peeked out through her lips and she looked up every few minutes, furrowing her brow before turning back down and writing more.
For fuck's sake, if I didn't sound obsessed before, I definitely sound like one now.
But imagine my surprise, and true glee when she turned up at my house, showing up and making me laugh and smile and…
Forget.
Forget that I was supposed to be miserable and terribly sad and I was supposed to stop functioning, and I should be quieter now and I should cry all the time, because yes…
I had cancer.
I, Emily Fitch, have cancer.
And it's the hardest thing to admit.
And you might be wondering how, but I'll explain.
Because now I have to accept that things are different, that maybe life will be different and harder and I'll be ill and quivering and I'll be puking and I'll go bald, and I'll be…
Well, anyways.
But she made me forget about all the things I was supposed to be, and allowed me to be all the things I wanted to be:
Happy, free, I felt alive for the first time in days, despite the fact that I was supposed to be dying.
But we're all dying.
Slowly decaying, and I guess that maybe this means I'll go faster, but I hope not, but I guess everyone would hope not, so I guess that was a bit stupid.
It's hard though, to watch all the girls around me twirl their hair around, the hair I will inevitably lose, and it's hard to see them talk about the future, when I'm not entirely certain if there will be one for me.
And I hate the pity.
I hate them looking at me and feeling sorry, I hate that all these people suddenly started caring, and I hate that they think that I won't make it, and they act as though I am already dead.
And it's so goddamn unfair.
But when I'm with Naomi, I don't feel pity, and I don't feel sick, and I'm not sad, and I don't feel small and weak.
No, I don't feel like the doormat or like some quiet girl.
I feel big, important.
I feel loved.
And I love her. I love her so fucking much that I wonder how I could have possibly functioned without her in my life like she is now.
I feel safe and I love the way she laughs and how she always gives me her jacket and how she looks at me.
She looks at me like there has never been anyone else.
Do you know how that feels?
To be looked at like you're the only thing that matters?
I'm sitting on my bed, trying to concentrate on my book, but all I can do is run my hands through my hair.
I might as well while I still have it.
I start chemo in a week.
One measly week.
And you know that feeling you get, or you got, those last few days of summer, when school is about to start, and you're so nervous, and you're just dreading every moment of it, and everything is just so scary and you're just bricking it?
I feel like that times ten.
I've done my research, and I know that I may lose my hair, and I may not, and honestly, that alone makes me scared.
And I know that looks don't matter, but I just feel so… vulnerable at even thinking about being bald.
I mean, what if Naomi just takes one look at me and feels the need to vomit all over the place and it just like, disgusted and dumps me?
What is she doesn't want an ugly girlfriend?
Oh god.
I know I'm overreacting, but it's just so scary.
I mean can you imagine?
I mean, things have been getting rather… passionate and heating up.
Lots of making out and lots of moments where I want to, where I think to myself just how much I love her, and just how much I want her.
And it's not like she doesn't feel the same way.
I just want it to be absolutely perfect, it's my first time after all.
And I'm flipping from page to page, and I have no idea what I just read, because all I can think about is her body on mine, and her skin against mine, and…
Fuck, now I'm really sounding like a perve.
But can you blame me?
She melts me into a pile of goo, and I don't mean just in her looks, I mean in the things she does too.
When she opens the door for me, or when she holds me close, and how when we're watching a movie, she's always watching me, and how she says I love you, and how sweet and genuine and lovely it always sounds.
Naomi's coming over today.
It's a late Saturday afternoon, and the wind outside is whipping, and all I can do is wait for her to come, because I'm already so excited to see her, despite the fact that I saw her yesterday, and I spent the night talking on the phone to her.
Yes, we are those people.
And I couldn't be happier.
I'm distracted from my thoughts by a knock at the door, and I watch the door open, and the objects of my affections walks in, flowers in hand, kicking off her shoes, wearing her necklace.
She always wears her necklace.
"Hey," she walks over to me, and I love that I can see the patch I got her sewn onto her jacket sleeve.
"Hey. What are the flowers for?"
"Because I love you."
And she says it so simply, and so easily, and it makes me smile, because I didn't have to earn those flowers and I didn't have to earn her love, and I don't have to ask for it.
And I realize just how much I want her now.
The sincerity in her blue eyes, god how I love those eyes, the way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and the way she's biting her lip as she passes me the flower and pressed a kiss to my check.
I've never felt so connected to someone, and I've never really wanted to have sex before.
I've always wanted it to be meaningful, and I'm realizing that I want it to be with Naomi.
"Are you okay Ems?" I look up at her as she moves to jump down next to me, the bed shaking a little as a result.
"I want to," I breathe out, looking at her like nothing else matters.
I don't think I've ever seen someone so beautiful.
She laughs.
"Want to what? Build spaceships competitively, enter into a high stakes game of black jack, start a banjo making company, build a fort made of bubble wrap?"
She's so fucking adorable.
Oblivious, but adorable.
"I want to, you know…" I raise my eyebrows.
I can literally see the light bulb go off in her head.
"Oh, oh…. Oh! Um… uh, you… really? Now? Are you… now?" She's stuttering and trying to work out a sentence, shock completely evident on her features.
"Really? Are you sure?" She's finally managed to work out words.
Congrats babe.
"I love you."
"I love you too." She cups my face with her right hand and begins to stroke my face softly with her thumb, and I close my eyes at the pleasant sensation.
"So…" I look at her, waiting for her to get the hint, and I start to kiss her neck.
"Where is your dad?" She asks, trying to look at the closed door, like my dad will burst in and beat the piss out of her.
"Dad is at the gym, he won't be home until later," I say between kissing her neck.
"Your… uh… the uh… your mum?" She asks, getting very distracted. I mean, I'd fucking hope she'd be distracted.
"Out with friends, won't be home for a long time."
The rain is hitting down on the roof, and everything seems so lovely.
"Katie?" She's breathes out a bit breathlessly.
"Shagging Cook somewhere."
"J-J-James?"
"At his pervy friend's. Are you all good now?" I ask hoping she's finally understood that the house is, in fact empty.
"Yeah." And with that, I pull her down on top of me, her lips finding my neck, and I'm holding her neck, lost in what's happening.
I bring my hand to her heart, feeling the rapid beats, pounding and moving and frantic, and I love how I'm the one who did this to her.
"Your heart is beating really fast, Naomi."
"It's because you're with me," she says and with that we go back to kissing.
She wiggles out of her jacket, discarding it somewhere on my floor, and we're kissing again, getting lost in the sensation, and her hands are on my hips, and mine are on the small of her back, and she's slowly grinding into me.
My hands find the hem of her shirt.
"Take it off," I whisper against her lips, and she sits up, pulling off her shirt.
Her boobs are pushing against her bra, and I'm just staring at them, the creamy skin that's usually covered and I'm awestruck.
She's so gorgeous.
I sit up, and pull off my own, and I'm a bit shy, but I watch the way her eyes widen, and I feel incredibly confident as a result.
"Woah," she breathes out, and I'm smiling, pulling her neck so she comes back to me, and we're kissing again, moaning and hands roaming and I'm so turned on, and I can't believe this is happening, and she's kissing along my jaw, and my neck, and I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter, and I'm being left breathless.
My hands move back to her waist, finding her belt, and undoing it, and we're still kissing, her lips are making me feel all kinds of things.
She gets up off the bed and pulls off her jeans, throwing them to the side, her belt clattering against the floor.
She's jumping from foot to foot, pulling off her socks and trying not to fall on her ass, and she's just so cute, that I can't help but stare, even if it is incredibly dorky.
She's my dork
She practically jumps back onto me, and I'm giggling at her eagerness as her hands find my skirt, and gradually slide it off, sitting up a bit to remove it, throwing it to the side.
Naomi's looking down at me, just staring, and I'm worried that she doesn't like the way my stomach looks, or the shape of my legs, or she doesn't think my breasts are large enough, or that I have some other imperfection.
I try to cover a bit of my body.
"What?" I ask, shyly.
"You're so beautiful Emily Fitch," she says so sincerely and I want to cry a bit, because whenever she says it, I truly believe it, and I feel it, and I feel loved, and I love her and…
She needs to me kissing me now.
And so I draw her back in, and her lips capture mine, and I tug a bit at her bottom lip, and everything feels so right and amazing, and I flip us over, straddling her, as she moves back to sit against the headboard.
And I need more.
"Off," I breathe out between kisses, hoping she can't feel my wetness against her leg, betting that she probably can.
And her hands move to her back, undoing the bra and casting it aside, slowing moving her to my back, and I'm distracted my her breasts against me, and how good they feel, and I move my hands to them, hearing her moan.
And now here comes the funny part, well funny in my opinion.
Panic sets in as she begins fumbling with the clasp, muttering something about a fucking demon bra from hell, kissing my neck, and grazing softly, but still pulling desperately, and despite being turned on, I'm giggling at her attempts, because it really is adorable.
"For fuck's sake, did you super glue your clasp or something," she asks, sitting back a bit, looking defeated.
And I realize how this must look, me laughing at her struggling and I know I should do something, but the sight of her perfect tits distracts me.
I snap out of it a second later, staring into her beautiful blues and cupping her face, moving my hands behind me as she responds, and undoing the clasp, throwing it to the side, and the kiss gets more passionate, and so I'm very confused when she pulls away.
"What?" I breathe out, and I follow her eyesight and realize that she's completely and utterly distracted by the sights of my boobs.
Batman could burst through the wall and she wouldn't even cast a glance away, and a sumo wrestler could charge at her, and all she would do is continue to stare.
I realize she needs a push, and I gently, but firmly grab her hands, guiding them to my breasts, and holding them against them, squeezing over her larger hands, until she gets it and begins to do it on her own, and moves forward to kiss me.
Moans and breathless sighs resonate throughout my room, and soon enough underwear is discarded, her boxers and my knickers, and we get under the covers, lying next to each other.
We're just looking at each other, taking each other in.
"Are you sure?" She asks, looking at me with clear blue eyes.
I nod, and she moves on top of me in between my legs, and my hands are on her back and her shoulders, feeling the way her muscles ripple and move under my touch, and loving how I can have that effect on her.
And I can almost hear a gasp as her hand moves down to my center, feeling how wet I am for her.
Her head moves to the crook of my neck, nipping and kissing and licking as she slowly enters me.
She slowly puts one finger in, and we take a second, so I can get used to it, and then I'm clutching at her back, and I'm telling her to go faster, and soon enough, she puts in another finger, and we wait for a second.
It hurts a bit at first, but it feels so wonderful and Naomi's being so sweet and gentle and slow, and now I want more, and so I'm asking her to speed up and she starts to gently thrust a little faster, my nails clawing into her, trying to get some form of release, my moans just growing louder.
And everything feels so good.
The way she's kissing my neck, and her fingers moving in and out of me, and the way she keeps on occasionally lifting herself up to make sure I'm okay, and everything is just too wonderful.
And I know I'm close, and I'm scratching at her back, and I'm moaning so very loudly, that I'd almost be embarrassed, but who wouldn't be moaning?
"Oh god Naomi! Holy shit Naomi! I'm so close!" I'm crying out and suddenly a wave of pleasure overcomes me and my orgasm rips through me, and she's placing gentle kisses all over my face as my chest heaves up and down and I catch my breath, and she rolls off of me.
And we're kissing and now I'm straddling her, and everything is just so fucking wonderful.
She's moaning and I'm moaning, and my hand falls down between her legs, her muttering approval.
She's wet and I find myself overly pleased at the thought that I caused that.
It wasn't long before her orgasm ripped through her, and we were lying next to each other, sweating and panting, and smiling and everything was just so fucking wonderful.
Sex is often looked at as this kinda cheap thing.
Look at Katie or Cook before they started dating.
Shagging randoms, not even knowing their names and not even really caring about the person.
And so here I am, my head on Naomi's chest, wrapped up in each other, legs and arms intertwined, blankets and sheets only convering some of us, and all I can think is how uncheap, (uncheap?) this moment was.
It really was beautiful.
It wasn't about the sex, and everything was so sweet and careful and loving, that I can now never really see how anyone could view sex as a strictly cheap thing.
Now, I could go in further detail.
I could tell you about how we explored each other further, going down on each other and tracing all these new parts on each other's bodies, but I think I will leave it at this.
And so we both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
I woke up an hour later, blankets still kinda tossed around, and the light was trickling in through the window, the rain having stopped, and I could feel something on my back.
I craned my neck and saw Naomi a bit farther down on the bed than me, her arm wrapped protectively around me from behind and her feet hanging off a bit.
Her nose was against my back, and she looked so peaceful, chest rising and falling, lips parted ever so slightly.
And I was so incredibly content in this moment.
And that's what I mean when I say that being with Naomi makes me happy when I should be miserable.
When you find people who can make you feel so incredibly happy, you treasure them, and you make sure they stay for a long time.
Looking at the sleeping girl next to me, I smiled again and yawned, falling back asleep, her nose against my back and her arm draped around me.
I start chemo today, and I'm so incredibly nervous.
I was practically shaking during my classes, worried and anxious about everything that was to come.
It was ominous and was scary and I didn't want to go.
I had tried to get out of it for so long, and I know that I have to do it, but you have to understand how awful it is.
And so I just got out of my last class of the day, and I'm currently sitting in my room, waiting for the clock to hit four, hoping it won't and time will stop and I won't have to go.
But I'm breathing kinda hard and it feels like my lungs are tighter than before, and everything seems so upsetting now.
Everything was going so well, and everything is so amazing.
I have the best girlfriend in the world, my grades are great, Katie had gotten together with Cook, and I was starting to get my life together, starting to apply to colleges, and everything was great and wonderful, and now a fucking bomb was just dropped and then it was stepped on and someone hit it with a bat and threw it out a window, "it" being my life.
Because this one thing has the potential to ruin everything, to ruin my whole life.
And I'm continuing my panic when the door opens, and Naomi is standing with flowers, and I wish she wasn't bringing me flowers right now because those flowers are her way of trying to make me smile, and I wish we were never in a position where she was trying to make me smile in a horrible situation.
But her presence calms me as she sits next to me, wordlessly putting her arm over my shoulders and holding me for a bit, kissing the top of my head and I feel a bit better, but I'm still consumed with worry about what's going to happen next.
And now she's sitting in the back of the car with me as my mum drives us, looking back at me every few seconds like I'm precious cargo, and she's scared I'll shatter into a million pieces between the last time she checked back and the next.
The building is ominous, but I guess hospitals are typically ominous.
Before I now what's happening texts are taken and my arm is pricked with needles and I'm hooked up to a IV, and I'm sitting in a chair, and my mum had kissed my cheek, telling me she'll pick us up in a few hours, and it would have been fine, but mascara was streaked down her face and she looked so sad, and I wanted to cry.
Just one week.
I just have to get through one week and then I get three weeks of rest.
And that's what I keep on telling myself and making sure I know.
It could be so much worse though.
Naomi is sitting next to me, holding my hand, stroking her thumb over my knuckles while she does some algebra with her other hand.
And every now and then, just like my mum, she looks back at me, making sure I'm okay, making sure I'm comfortable, that I'm not feeling awful and that I am not in any type of pain.
And it's kinda nice.
We talk and laugh and tell stories like we always do, and nothing would be any different, but I'm sitting in a hospital, hooked up to an IV, getting treatment because I'm sick.
And I'm so scared because I'm sick.
It isn't the flu or some kinda fever. My biggest concern isn't making up a test for one of my classes because I was absent. Chicken noodle soup is not the cure.
No, serious treatment is.
And even then…
Well anyways.
I know that Katie's with Cook, and that he's probably helping her in some way or another.
"You okay?"
I look over to Naomi, who's looking at me with such, soft, caring eyes.
"Yeah," I say kinda quietly, but I'm not lying, because she's here, and things are so much better when she is here.
"What are you looking at?" I ask, seeing that her earbuds are plugged in, and that her algebra homework, now completed, has been cast aside.
"Oh, just a movie. It's called Sharktopus vs. Pteracuda," she replies grinning as she gets up and I scoot over so she can sit next to me on the big chair that I'm currently on.
She unplugs the earbuds and shows me the phone, just as what I'm guessing is sharktopus kills Conan O'Brien.
Poor Conan.
"Are they playing volleyball with his head?" I ask, staring open mouthed at these horrible graphics.
"Yep," she laughs, and I find myself laughing along with her at the sheer ridiculousness of this whole entire movie.
And I forget.
I forget for a bit that I'm hooked up to an IV and that I'm in a hospital, and that I'm sick.
Because when I'm with her, I don't even think about those things.
It's almost February, and the snow has started to make its final appearances for the season, and the rain is more constant.
And Naomi is starting to apply to colleges, still nervous about what she will end up doing, but I know that no matter what she ends up doing, she will be amazing at it.
A few hours later, the movie is finished and we have both drifted off, my head on her shoulder, and we're awoken by a little movement, and my mum is standing in front of us, no more mascara streaks and a large smile at seeing her daughter and her girlfriend.
My mum drops Naomi off at her house, and while we're driving back, she continues to look back at me, asking me various questions and obviously fretting over everything.
Dinner is kinda quiet, and the silence is filled with so many unsaid things.
The week is pretty much exactly like that.
I spend my mornings with Naomi and I never fail to smile and she walks me to class, and she eats lunch with Cook, and then after school she comes over to my house at 4:00, after leaving Cook's house.
And from there she comforts me.
She comforts me while I'm sitting on the bed panicking, or when we're driving and I tense a bit as the hospital comes into sight, or when I'm being hooked up.
She's holding my hand through out it all.
Today is Sunday, my last day for the cycle (the cycle is one week of chemo and three weeks of rest), and the clock is ticking away, and she's currently finishing some last minute homework up as I do the same.
We are sharing her earbuds, one in her ear and one in mine, and we're listening to all these songs.
And everything is kinda calm, and I'm excited for this week to be over.
Because this week has only been a constant reminder that I am ill, that I am not okay.
But I feel fine.
"Nice bag." I point at her messenger bag, despite having seen it multiple times, while she puts her finished homework in it.
"What? You have a problem with messenger bags?"
"No, of course not. I think the mailman looks quite cool with his," I continue to tease.
"Tom Hansen has a messenger bag," she replies, trying to prove a point that her bag is very cool, which it is not.
"From 500 Days of Summer? Doesn't his relationship end and he becomes incredibly sad?"
I want Naomi to be nothing like Tom Hansen. Not because there is anything wrong with him or Summer, but their relationship ends, and I never want ours to.
"Maybe, but… it's a cool bag, alright?"
"Whatever you say."
She's moved to sit on my chair with me, and once again I place my head on her shoulder, because it just feels right when I do.
Good feeling, won't you stay with me just a little longer?
It always seems like you're leaving when I need you here just a little longer
(Violent Femmes- Good Feeling)
I smile when I hear the beginning of our song play, and I move into her more.
Our song.
I can feel her eyes on my head, so I look up at her.
"What?" I ask.
"You're… it's just that… You're the kinda person that people write all those overly cheesy love songs about. Like, you're just… it's… this is what love is," she says so genuinely and so truthfully that all I want to do is kiss her, so I do.
I try to convey everything into the kiss.
I try to convey how grateful I am to have her by my side. I try to convey how shocked I am that a person like her exists. I try to convey how happy it makes me when she says stuff like that. I try to convey how much I love her.
And I'm smiling into the kiss because it is so hard to not smile with her.
And I know that things are supposed to be kinda shit.
I know that I am ill, that something is wrong with me.
I know that I should be sad.
But how could I be sad when she's here, and when she's looking at me like she is, and when everything just feels so incredible?
I love her.
Well then.
I hope you guys liked that. Next chapter will be posted on Thursday. I really hope you guys liked it, because I feel really nervous about it, and kinda scared it's not very good, but then again, I feel like the story's not very good.
Sorry.
Anyways.
I'm tired.
Let me know what you think. Did you like it? Do you like the story? Anything in particular you would want to see, (I have a few ideas in mind)? Do you wish I would shut the fuck up? Let's hope you don't wish for the last one.