The Story of a Dying Girl
Hello! Okay, so, this is a shorter chapter, and it's also kinda shit so I apologize. I'm sorry.
I hope you guys all had a good Halloween. What did you guys go as? What did you guys do?
Once again, I want to thank you, because you guys will never know how lucky I am and how much I appreciate you guys.
Okay, should we go on? Let's do it!
Chapter 19:
It has been two weeks since Emily has checked into the hospital, April's rain making its appearance.
In some ways, things are different, and in others, things are the exact same.
It's the same because Emily and I still watch movies and we kiss, and we talk about all the things we always did, and we're happy.
And it's different because I don't walk her to class anymore, and I don't see her bright red door, the color faded and worn.
I don't sit under the old tree anymore while she puts her head on my shoulder, and we watch everything happen around us, so wrapped up in each other.
I don't take her to go get ice cream at that convenience store a few blocks down with the grumpy man and the forgotten freezer in the back,
And it's hard sometimes, and I hope you know what I mean when I say that. I don't mean that my life is empty, and I trail around with constant tears in my eyes, saying something about how Emily and I used to go bowling here, or how we one time saw a movie here.
I mean that it's hard to watch everyone else. Everyone else doesn't have to worry about these things, and that bothers me immensely. Couples still do all the things they always did because there's no reason why they wouldn't.
They don't go see their loved one in a hospital, and they don't have to see her get thinner and thinner, and paler and paler, and they don't have to worry about making her laugh too hard because then a nurse might have to come.
And I know I'm not the only one. I know there are people all around the world going through these things. But it feels like I'm the only one, and like no one notices.
No one notices how awful it is. No one sees the tragedy happening. We should all be crying and there should be a line to visit Emily. Why doesn't everyone feel the way I do? How is that possible that they don't feel like that?
And I want to strangle the doctors. Because they fucking lied to me.
Emily isn't getting better.
She still pulls out pieces of red hair, and she still coughs, and she's frail, and she's ill, she's ill and I can't do anything to fix it, and it feels like I'm useless.
I feel like I'm just watching it all go to shit right in front of me, and it's so goddamn unfair.
Why does a romance like Gary Simps and Amanda Horite's- yes, Amanda fucking Horite- get to be totally fucking okay?
That probably sounds mean, but think about it.
Gary Simps doesn't exactly care for his girlfriend, spending more time bragging to his friends about their latest escapade in bed rather than actually spending time with her. And Amanda Horite spends most of the time bragging about their dates rather than him.
It seems odd to me, that two people can care so little about each other, and yet, they aren't put through any of the shit Emily and I now have to go through, and yes, I know that sounds bitter.
And it makes me mad, it makes me so mad.
It makes me mad that all of this is happening, and it makes me mad that I have no control over it.
And so here I am, in Emily's room as she's sleeping peacefully in the bed.
It's Saturday, and I've decided to make a fort.
And no, not just any fort, I'm talking about Mega, Mighty, Super Fort.
"What's that?" You may ask.
Well, it's a badass fort, no it's the badass fort. And why am I making it?
I'm making it because Emily has sat in her bed, watching the walls, and crying into me today, before she fell asleep in my arms, and I need to see her laugh.
And so I ask the nurse for blankets and chairs, and get an odd look in return, but she brings the stuff anyways.
And I go to work.
Blankets and pillows and chairs, and I'm setting it all up into a cluster fuck fort that looks kinda cool and kinda shit.
And just as I finish, as I hang the last blanket from the last chair and put the last pillow in the last perfect place, Emily stirs in her sleep and wakes up, sitting up slowly, and rubbing her eyes, and the sight it so adorable that it distracts me from the chaos happening behind me.
The minute I take my eyes off the fort, the chair falls, and so the blankets collapse too, and the pillows are moved, and another chair falls, and then it's just one big mess of a broken fort.
I'm standing in it all, and I feel like how I've been feeling recently.
Useless.
Because I tried to make her laugh and look at me now, standing in this mess I've made, trying desperately to put the chairs back and the pillows where they were and hang the blankets once again, but it's not working, and I'm becoming more and more worked up because it's like I can't do anything.
And then her laughter rings out.
It's melodious and soft, and this time she doesn't cough, and I just bask in it, like I did for the first time all those years ago, and I turn to her.
She's smiling a great big beautiful smile, and her eyes are crinkled, and for a moment she doesn't look sick. She looks like how she did before, perfectly fine and healthy, and it feels like it was all some dream, or really a nightmare.
No, Emily is fine.
And that was all some nightmare.
But then I realize I'm in the hospital, and Emily's starting to cough a bit, and no, this isn't some nightmare, this is life.
This is reality.
This is our reality.
I rush to grab some water and she slowly takes small sips, and eventually the coughing stops, but she looked so small lying there.
And so I moved forward and held her in my arms.
She felt cold.
She felt very cold.
A person should not feel that cold.
And I cried.
I cried a bit into her shoulder as I wrapped my arms around her waist, she sitting in my lap, and I cried.
I cried so hard I thought a nurse would have to come for me, and I thought that I would be sick, I cried so hard that I wondered if I would ever stop.
I cried because I was scared and I felt helpless and I knew in that very moment that I was watching her die slowly, and I really knew this time.
I really knew that it was bad, more than I had ever realized before.
And I cried because I had no idea how I could stop it.
But I also knew that it had to get better, because there isn't a world without Emily, at least there isn't one that I want to live in.
Life without her wouldn't really be life, but some hollow meaningless thing in which I wandered around, in a way dazed and just kinda there.
And so I held her even closer, like that alone would keep her safe, like it would protect her from illness.
It doesn't.
It was Tuesday. The sky was shining beautifully. The rain had gone away for the day.
And I hated it.
It felt so out of place for the sun to be shining.
It felt so odd for everything to look beautiful, because really, everything should be sad and it wasn't.
That was one of the worst parts.
My grades were great, and Cook and I still were having a lot of fun, and Paddy was gonna live with Mum next year, and Katie had been infinitely kinder since she started dating Cook, and life was good in all those parts.
Everything could have been great, but the most important piece of it wasn't.
No, she was sitting on her bed, hooked up to machines that beeped and flashed, and she coughs as the doctors try to find a cure.
"Naomi," my politics teacher calls as I'm leaving class.
I'm not sure if I've ever described her, but I'll do that now.
She was a short woman, and she was calm, maybe my only sane teacher.
Her brown hair was cut short, falling just to her shoulders, and her smile was bright and her voice was kinda unpleasantly scratchy.
"Yes, Ms. Welps?"
"I, like the other teachers at this school, are aware about Emily's condition."
I took a sharp inhale of breath.
"And we are aware of how grim things are, with-"
"Just the person I was looking for." Mr. Dirken walks in, face serious and displeased.
"I was just in the middle of talking to Miss Campbell here about her girlfriend."
"Ah, yes, Miss Fitch. I'm sorry Naomi," he said.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Hold the fucking phone.
Why is he apologizing? Does he know something I don't?
Stop acting like she's dead, stop acting like she's gone.
I wish they'd stop acting that way.
People look at me with pity because I'm dating a sick girl.
They should be looking with amazement because I've managed to get a girlfriend as amazing as Emily.
"Yes, yes, Naomi, we wanted to say we're sorry about your girlfriend."
"She's not dead," I say shortly, because I'm beginning to get mad.
"Yes, but she's not exactly healthy, is she?" Mr. Dirken says, like he's telling me something I don't know.
"In all do respect, shut the fuck up about my girlfriend," I snap. And I know it was wrong. I know I shouldn't have done it. And I know I'll probably get in trouble for it, but I can't help it.
Because I am sick and tired of the sorry looks and the whispers in the hall about my girlfriend.
And then I walk into the hall, leaving my shocked teachers in the room, watching me leave.
And that's when I snap.
That is when I actually snap.
Because there hanging in the hallway, is a banner hanging:
"Our condolences about Emily Fitch."
Condolences?
Let me look up that definition.
con·do·lence
kənˈdōləns/
noun
plural noun: condolences
an expression of sympathy, especially on the occasion of a death."we offer our sincere condolences to his widow"
Death.
They are apologizing for her death.
They are apologizing for her death.
They think she's gonna die.
I watch Katie's face twist into one of anger from across the hall, as Cook looks up in disgust- yes, this is so awful, that is has Cook disgusted, the guy who describes his sexual conquests in great detail.
I watch as Patricia Farvier and Amanda Horite look at their work with pride, like they have done me a favor.
"Naomi! How do you like it?" Amanda asks, as I huff and puff like that fucking wolf from the three little pigs.
I'm getting more and more upset as I continue to look at it.
And so as the whole lot of kids watches, I snap.
Do you remember that scene in Pretty in Pink? Have you watched Pretty in Pink?
Well, there's this one scene where Duckie, one of the main characters, runs and jumps and pulls the prom poster down, throwing it somewhere.
And so, standing there, looking at this great big fucking death notice for my alive girlfriend, I run.
I run right to where it hangs in the hall, and I jump, I jump and I rip it down, plucking it down aggressively as the whole hallway watches on.
I crumple it into a ball angrily, ripping it and throwing it until everyone has realized my exact standing on this fucking banner.
And in case you are wondering:
I fucking despise it.
And then I keep running, I run right out of the doors to the school and down the steps to the tree across the field where Emily used to sit with me.
And I sit under the tree, and I watch all the world happening around me, and I can't help but think how much better it was when Emily was here.
"Got any fives?"
"Go fish!"
"You cheeky fucker, you have one don't you?"
"No I don't, go fish you grumpy shit."
"Love you too," I say, picking up another one to my growing pile.
It's after school of the whole banner ripping/crushing the "hard work" of Patricia Farvier and Amanda Horite, and I'm sat facing Emily, playing go fish on her bed.
"You like this game too much," I say, sighing as I look at my fucking ginormous pile.
"Just a bit. Now shut up and kiss me," Emily says smiling as I lean forward and meet her lips.
"Okay, I've decided I'll forgive you."
"Forgive me?"
"Yeah, for being a cheeky fucker."
She throws her pillow at me.
"Ooooh Ems, feisty! I didn't know you liked to play rough!"
"Naoms!" She chastises, her blushing face a beautiful sight.
"What?"
"You know what!"
"Why don't you explain it to me in great detail?"
I kiss her again, kissing her jaw softly.
"Nomi…" she whispers.
I kiss her again, and I lose myself in her. It's a combination of red and of love, and everything is here, everything is rather fucking amazing as I lose once again in Emily.
"Emsy!" I hear a deep voice say, and I sit up quickly, watching as Mr. Fitch walks in, and I try to pretend that I haven't just been making out with his daughter.
Me? No! How could you even think that I would do such a thing?!
I mean, I was, but….
He walks into the room, and I already prepare myself. I think I read how to survive a bear attack once. This can't be that much worse than that, right?
"Naomi, hope you guys are keeping your hands to yourselves," he says, laughing, but with an edge. I look at my hand that's holding hers and pry it away, putting both of mine in my lap.
"No touching Emily of course! No touching of any kind! I mean, not like that!" I squeaked and decided to never talk again.
He raised an eyebrow at me, but doesn't say anything.
Thank fuck for that.
"Well, I just wanted to see my little girl. I brought you some pudding love!" Mr. Fitch says, proudly holding out a cup of pudding, while I'm just looking at him, wondering where the fuck he just magically pulled pudding out of.
I mean, it just fucking appeared.
That would be the coolest magic trick ever.
Being able to just pull pudding out whenever you wanted it.
Sorry, sorry, I lost track, I got off topic.
We spend the day with Mr. Fitch, and his pudding, and it's nice.
It's nice to see him break into a booming laugh, and to see Emily with this man who means the world to her.
And it's nice because it feels like everything is okay, and like everything will be okay.
And so it's later that night, when I'm laying in bed with her, and I'm getting ready to leave in a little bit, that I remember what happened today.
"I ripped down Amanda Horite and Patricia Farvier's banner in the hallway today," I say into the darkness as her grip tightens around me and she laughs softly.
"Why?"
"Because they were giving condolences about you."
"Oh."
It's quiet, and kinda sad, and just kinda there, like she's not sure what to say, because what do you say when people think you're dying.
What do you day when you are?
"And so I ripped it down. And I told my teachers to fuck off too when they did the same," I said.
She's quiet.
"And I'm sick of them acting like you're dead Emily."
"I'm dying, Naoms."
It's even quieter, and it's the most heartbreaking thing I have ever heard.
And it's worse than I had ever thought that it might have been.
"You're not."
"I am."
"No, you're not."
"I am."
"Stop saying that," I choke out.
"I'm sorry." She wraps herself around me even tighter.
"You're gonna get better Ems, and we'll get married, and we'll have kids, and I'll buy a house for us, and the kids will run around out back, and we'll have a dog, and we'll gonna grow od together, goddamnit, we'll live to be 100, and I'll die before you do, and you're be so fucking healthy, and-"
I've worked myself into a crying fit and Emily kisses me, she kisses me and we lie back down in the darkness, onto her bed, and we're wrapped up in each other again.
It's quiet and it's warm under the blankets, and it's raining outside, even thought it was sunnier earlier, and I'm not sure how that works.
But it's happening, and we're kissing, and eventually we stop, and everything is calm as I place one last soft kiss on her lips.
"I love you Naomi Campbell."
The rain falls, against the roof hard, and everyone is sleeping, and it's like all those nights ago in the first hospital stay.
"I love you too."
Alright.
So there you have it. I hope you guys liked it, I know it's kinda shit.
The next chapter will be up on Sunday.
Let me know what you thought! Should there be an Emily Pov soon?