The Story of a Dying Girl
Hello! Hey, what's up?
How are you? How's life been treating you?
So, I guess Sunday had kind of become my unofficial update date. Is that too much of a wait? I'm sorry if it is, but life is just kinda hectic.
Once again, I want to thank everyone. Really thank you so much. I know I say it every time, but it's hard to express how truly thankful I am to each and every one of you.
Thank you mynameislizzie for giving me a shout out. She just finished an amazing story, and she's almost done with another. I hope that this makes her feel a bit better, because I know she's been getting a bit of shit from some reviews.
Anyways, I really hope you guys enjoy!
Chapter 18:
I'm trying to figure out how I feel about Fitch family dinners.
On one hand, they're nice and loving, and I get to hear stories about Emily and Katie when they were young, and I get to watch the way their family interacts.
It's usually something like this:
"And today at the gym, this girl came in, and she was using the dumbbells and then this man came over, trying to impress her, and let me tell you, he struck out immediately. And I told him, I told him, "Aaron, if you want to impress a woman, you're gonna need to do some reps!"
"Is she hot?" –totally appropriate question from James.
"What?"
"Gordon Mcpherson said that girls like it when-"
"Naughty bar!"
And then he complained and went to go do pull-ups.
But like I was saying, I'm not entirely sure how I feel, because on the other hand, I have to keep my mind at bay, witch is a pretty difficult thing.
I mean, take right now, yes I am eating dinner with the Fitchs right now, for example.
I swear Emily likes to mess with me. Her hand is currently on my thigh, and is moving upwards slowly, and then sliding down, as I try to remain calm.
And Mr. Fitch is telling us some story about how he changed yet another person's life with fitness, and all I can think about what Emily and I were doing yesterday in her room.
She had been kissing my neck, my checks, my ears, my lips, everything, warming me up in comparison to the cold I had just been in when I was outside.
And I thought I would die right then and there I was so incredibly happy.
I mean, she was smiling, and laughing, and kissing me, and I was just warm, I felt so incredibly warm.
And so it's hard to avoid thinking about that when Mr. Fitch is rambling about something else.
"You see fitness is important. And then I told him…."
Reporting live from Naomi's mind.
We have movement, we have movement, I repeat, we have movement! Emily's hand is brushing higher and higher. We believe that her hand is heading to a place where it most definitely shouldn't be when her father and rest of her family are here.
We will keep you posted folks. If it brushes any higher, Naomi might react, and that would mean a dead Naomi.
"Naomi?" Mr. Fitch is tilting is head ever so slightly.
"Oh, um, uh, uhhh…. I'm sorry, I was just uh, well, uh distracted," I say, swallowing and reaching quickly for my glass of water, thinking that he won't ask me anymore questions if I'm drinking.
This just in, Emily's hand has moved higher! This raises the question: Does she want Naomi to be beaten to a miserable pulp by her very large and intense father? Signs point to yes.
I choke on my water and begin to cough, raising my hand to my mouth as Emily laughs silently beside me.
Bitch.
So, do you get what I mean? It's hard for me to resist looking away when Mr. Fitch looks right at me, it's like he's trying to read and see if I've messed up in anyway.
I'm half expecting him to stop in the middle of one of his stories and make Emily recite some kinda virginity chant.
Is that a thing?
I imagine Mr. Fitch probably made it a thing.
But you can imagine how nervous I am every single time. I mean, sometimes I'm almost glad her little brother perves on me. That way he gets in trouble, and it creates a very useful distraction to my inner panicking.
It's like all the fucking haunted houses and scary movies in the world combined to think about what would happen if Mr. Fitch ever found out. I know that it may not seem like a big deal since Mr. Fitch is a very kind man, but let me explain, because I don't think I'm accurately portraying him.
He would scare the hulk he's so big and strong. I mean, sometimes I think those two might be related. And while he was a very kind and loving man, he was very, and when I say very, I mean very protective of his daughters.
And so I was absolutely terrified of him. And no, I will never call him Rob, because I feel like that's just some fucking trap he's set for me.
Well, no way Mr. Fitch, you won't get me.
Emily decides to stop messing with my thigh and… other regions, and laces her fingers through mine, like so many times before.
And it feels like things just connect.
I just read that back and realized how corny that is, but I promise you that I mean it.
And there's something truly puzzling about how truly lucky I am, because I had never thought that love could be this way.
I had never really grown up with an idea of how love looks, and I know that love doesn't have one set image, but rather an infinite amount of possibilities, but I had never really seen too many relationships where there were love. I had seen my parents' relationship, and I had seen the love that used to be in their eyes, but I saw that decay, vanish and turn into resentment and then emptiness. And those images of their love leave me slowly, and I forget how it looked when they loved each other.
It's funny how that works, how we lose images of our past selves, and we forget the way things looked and sounded, things that used to be so clear are now blurry and unclear.
I had seen relationships, but sometimes I wondered if that love was real. Neighbors with sad eyes, and secrets of resentment in what should have been a loving relationship.
So I never really thought about love. I didn't really think it was real. I thought it was like some mystical creature, and I didn't really think it was important.
In my mind, I had a feeling I would get married to some woman, and we'd love each other, but it wouldn't be anything earthshattering, rather a love that was just kinda there. And we would have kids, and we would be overworked and sad, because in my mind, that was just how people were.
Sad.
But then Emily comes along, and she shows me that I was wrong. And our love is this earthshattering thing. And I know, I know I sound crazy. I sound like a love sick teenager, but I mean it. I really do. Because now I know what love is. What it really is.
And this, this means everything to me.
Sorry, I got kind of sidetracked.
But really, it's hard not to.
Mr. Dirken is already looking angry. I wonder what happens to him at home to make him so angry before class even starts.
Maybe he's mad at his wife for something stupid, or maybe he's mad because his kids never call him anymore, or maybe he's mad because he has no wife to get mad at, and no kids to call constantly.
Maybe he's sad.
Maybe he and Mrs. Incart should date.
Or maybe he's just an asshole who likes to spend his time terrorizing the youth of today with endless questions and aggravated stares.
I start to doodle in my notebook, and soon enough it turns into a picture of Emily, her features coming together just like how I remember them from my endless staring.
Hair sweeping down past her shoulders, thinner than before, but still beautiful. Her beaming smile, her-
"Ms. Campbell. Since you feel so confident that you know what I'm teaching, that you feel inclined to draw, please tell me what I just said," Mr. Dirken said, hand brushing over his receding hairline, as if more hair would grow if he just touched it enough.
It wouldn't.
"Uh… no, I can't."
"Exactly! And this is why you need to be paying attention! This is important!"
He makes it sound as if I will be given a life or death question about correct writing techniques.
Maybe he'll be the one to give me that question.
Maybe he's an evil villain.
Maybe he had a hairless cat that he just strokes evilly and laughs.
Maybe he has evil plans.
Maybe. Maybe…
Maybe he's just a sad man.
The last of March weather is gloomy and dismal. Things are happening. Emily and I have both been accepted into a few colleges, as have Cook and Katie, who, I will add, are loved up and cheesy.
And Emily isn't getting any better.
And I know that she should be.
Look, I'm no genius when it comes to these things, but I do know some things.
I know those pills should be helping.
They're not.
I know the chemo should be helping.
It isn't.
And I know that an 18-year-old girl shouldn't cough so much.
But she is.
And I know that there is something wrong.
I know that there is something wrong because she asks me to stop making jokes sometimes because it hurts too much to laugh. And I know something is wrong because he fingers are frailer than before when I hold her hand.
And I know something is wrong because she is sick, and she has never acted sick before, but now I know what I could easily forget before.
She is sick.
And it's a constant reminder.
I'm reminded when she takes more and more concoctions of pills, all trying to desperately have some kind of effect.
I'm reminded when a bit of a cough turns into one giant coughing fit, loud and scary, and leaving my heart clenching with absolute fear of what is happening to her.
What is happening slowly before my own eyes.
And so I try to forget about it, but like I said, I can't, I can't forget it.
And it hurts me more than anything else to see the person I love so incredibly to be hurting and sick.
It hurts more than I ever imagined it would.
And so here we are, at the hospital again, and I'm already wishing we weren't there.
Once again the doctor is there, and he pushes back a head of graying hair, and he takes off his glasses dramatically, and I feel like we're in some lame ass soap opera.
Is this the part where the dramatic music plays?
"So, the cancer isn't going away. We thought the pills would help, and we thought that the chemo would help. They are… but it's not having the desired affect. It's moving a lot slower than we anticipated it would."
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
It feels like my lungs are collapsing, begging to breathe as my chest tightens.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
Everything is burning, hurting painfully.
I see white, and I feel tears on my shoulder and I hear loud, desperate sobs coming from Mrs. Fitch and Emily, and my cheeks are wet, and that's when I realize that I'm crying loudly and recklessly, tears flowing easily from my eyes.
"We think Emily should start staying in the hospital soon."
And I'm motionless.
I'm motionless as we walk out the hospital, and I can feel my tears on my cheeks.
I'm motionless as we are driving, and Emily sobs into my shoulder.
My brain is frozen, and it feels like I'm not present, like this isn't me, like I'm watching this happen to me, and it doesn't feel like I'm in my own body.
Does that make sense?
And now I find myself sitting on Emily's bed, and I'm just looking up at the ceiling as she sobs into me, and all I can think about is why.
Why is this happening?
Why must the girl whom I love more than life itself be sick?
But then again, why is anyone sick?
Why does anyone go through terrible things?
I'm not special, I'm no exception to this rule, and no matter how special Emily is, she's no exception either.
Emily's sobs grow quieter and quieter as I hold her in my arms, and I can hear Mr. Fitch's voice trying to comfort Mrs. Fitch downstairs.
And then I hear a knock on the door, and I see them standing together, and I'm crying a little bit more, but I realize I'm wrapped up in Emily, but I can't even find it in me to be scared at the prospect of Mr. Fitch seeing up like this, because I'm too scared of something much worse.
"Can I talk to you Naomi?" He asks in a deep, but gentle voice.
I nod silently, as Mrs. Fitch walks into Emily's room and sits on the chair I sat on all those months ago.
I follow him downstairs into the living room, and I take a seat on the couch, and I'm surprised when he sits next to me.
"There's no easy way to say this…" he starts.
There's never an easy way to say it, is there? How do you say it? How do you say something that I already know?
How do you say that one of the most important people in your world is sick, and isn't getting any better?
I wish I had the answer, and from the look he's giving me, he's wishing he had it too.
"Emily is very sick."
That's how you say it.
"I know," I say, and I swallow my desperate sobs, begging to be released.
"I'm not saying that she won't get better, but I'm just telling you, things right now are dark…"
And my heart hurts.
It hurts so much more than I thought it would ever hurt.
It's like everything happening at once.
"I know."
And this time the sobs aren't swallowed because I can't keep them down, and instead I cry, tears following, wetting my own shirt.
And he hugs me.
He wraps me up in a hug, strong arms around me, and in all the times I could have used my own father, I think this is the moment when I need him most.
I need him to hold me while I cry, and I need him to whisper all those father like things, gentle murmurs and whisperings.
But he's not here.
And that's how we're different.
Because I stay even thought I'm in pain, because I love Emily so much, that it doesn't matter that it's hard.
Mr. Fitch takes the father role instead, and I try to be civil, but instead I bury my head into his shoulder, and I sob.
I cry for the girl upstairs who is…
Who is…
Who is dying.
The one who is sick.
I cry because I need her to be okay, because I need her to be okay, because I need her to be okay.
And she is not okay.
And so I sob, endlessly and for what feels like an eternity.
Cook and I are sitting on his couch again, and we're watching The Room, and if you haven't seen it, then I definitely recommend it, and he's been listening to me ramble on about everything.
About college.
About mum.
About homework.
About Emily.
And when take a small pause, he starts to talk, and here's the thing about Cook that many people will never understand.
He may be one of the stupidest people you will ever meet. He's full of bad ideas that often lead to running away from some large looking guy.
But he's also one of the wisest at times.
Don't tell him I said that.
But we were sitting on his couch, and after I had started to tear up a bit, he turned to me, and he said, "I know that things seem shit, but you love her yeah? Things are shit, but they will be better, because you love her, and that's all that really matters."
And for a second I thought, "He's the smartest man I'll ever know."
This lasted for five seconds until he said, "Hey d'you think it's based on a true story?"
And then I thought, "This genius is an idiot."
But I felt a bit better than I had before, and so I put my head on his shoulder as he took another sip of his beer, and we started to laugh at the acting.
"It won't be that bad," I say, while Emily lays her head on her chest, listening to the beating of my heart.
"I don't want to move into the hospital, Naoms," she says as I bring my hand up to her hair, gently pushing loose strands behind her ear.
"It won't be that bad," I repeat.
She doesn't seem to be buying it.
"Naoms, I want to live here, in my room, in my home, like I always have before."
"But that was before you were sick, Ems," I say gently, and place a soft kiss to the top of her head.
"Nomi, I want to stay here."
"Look, we're make your hospital room awesome. We're hang up a bunch of posters and we're take some of your photos with us, and we're take your favorite books, and we can watch movies, and I'll sneak you in some good food…." I list off.
"What like this one?" She asks, pointing to a black and white strip of photos from an old photo booth we saw when we were in some nameless bookstore one day.
"Yeah, it'll be fine, Ems."
"And what will I do when you're at school?"
"Well, you're still be learning things. I did some research. You'll have classes and stuff here, and I'll bring you you're homework, and I'll visit you everyday. We can do everything we still do now."
"Not exactly…" she leads off, looking at me, like she's trying to see if I will get the hint.
I am not getting the hint.
"Naoms… what's something that we can't do in a hospital?"
I have no idea what she means.
"Naoms…" she drags out my name again.
Oh, oh… oh!
"Oh, you mean, the… you mean… yeah…"
She means, you know…
Sex.
"Yeah, I guess we can't exactly do that in a hospital..."
But it doesn't matter to me.
It really doesn't. While sex with Emily is great, it doesn't mean everything to me.
Holding her in my arms is sometimes even better, to be honest.
And so that's what I do now, I engulf her in my arms and she sighs, leaning back into me, seemingly at ease.
I found two more movies, giving me a total of 12 out of 15.
I found A New King and Passion in Paradise in some small obscure movie store that I drove to with Cook and Paddy.
I have found all the movies except for Eying the Stranger, Lighting the Sky, and Emily's favorite, Night of Love.
And I can't wait to see the look of utter happiness on her face when she sees them.
It'll make all the months of searching worth it.
"Hey, this isn't so bad," I say as I carry a box into Emily's new hospital room.
April has just begun and the unrelenting rain won't go away.
It's constant and cold, and I find myself having to tug my jacket closer to me when I do wear it. I find that a lot of the time it ends up on Emily.
Mr. Fitch comes into the room behind me, holding another box of Emily's books.
Katie and Cook are there too, as is Mrs. Fitch and James.
"See Emsy, not so bad," Katie lisps out, her mouth forming a small smile as Cook squeezes her hand in support.
"Can I come visit you often?" James says from beside his mum.
Well isn't that sweet?
"I saw a nurse with mint tints!"
Well… it was kinda sweet before he continued to talk.
He was better off just leaving it.
Katie clips the back of his head.
"Ow, bitch!" He rubs the back of his head.
"James! Don't use that kind of language!" Mrs. Fitch looks appalled.
"She hit me!"
"Katie, don't hit your brother!" Mr. Fitch says, putting the box on one of the chairs.
"He said the nurse had 'mint tints'!"
"James, don't say that the nurse has 'mint tints'!" Mr. Fitch says.
"It's her fault!" He says, still rubbing the back of his head.
"No!" Katie says, as Cook looks absolutely terrified at his very angry girlfriend.
And they start to yell, and Cook steps back next to Emily and I as Mr. and Mrs. Fitch try to stop the yelling by yelling louder.
"Oh god," Emily says, grabbing my arm and trying to hide behind me.
It's later when everyone is still here, and after we have all eaten dinner in her room, that they start to leave.
Katie says she'll stay, but Emily says something about Katie missing out on her beauty sleep, and she seems reluctant, but she leaves, as do her parents and brother, all of them kind of reluctant, and making me promise to keep them updated.
Cook leaves with a hug and a kiss on my cheek, and Mr. Fitch tells me to take care of his daughter, and Mrs. Fitch hugs me.
It's a later when we're in her bed, and we're watching The Princess Bride, yes, we are watching The Princess Bride again, sharing our earphones, that we start to nod off a bit.
The sky is dark and all the people in all the houses all probably asleep, and so I take her computer and put it to the side, and she takes off my jacket, and she cuddles into me.
It's so quiet and I think that she's asleep but then I hear her voice in gentle whispers.
"Naoms…"
"Yeah?"
"I'm scared."
And I hold her a bit tighter.
"I won't let anything happen to you, Ems," I say, and I mean it.
"Really?"
"Really."
She puts her head on my chest.
"I love you," she says.
"I love you too."
I'm smiling because no matter how many times I hear it, I always find myself smiling like an idiot.
"Promise me you'll stay?" She says, but she says it like she already knows that my answer will be yes, and she's right.
"No one can make me leave. I promise you I'll stay forever, Ems."
"Forever," she says in a small childlike voice.
"Forever and ever."
She kisses the spot a little above my heart, and soon enough I hear her soft snores.
And as I drift off, I think of one thing.
I would never leave Emily Fitch. Not for the world.
I love her.
And that was it! A little bit longer than last time.
So I will be starting Chapter 19 tomorrow, and that will be up on Sunday! I know, what a shock!
So what are you guys going as for Halloween? Are you guys as excited as I am?
Let me know what you guys thought!