The Dying Wish

Chapter 1 - The Unsent Messages

"Good morning, everyone," the well-groomed psychiatrist greeted, smiling happily at the marked-for-death faces surrounding him. "It is my pleasure to announce that we have a new resident joining our session today." Dr Begum gestured at the sullen young woman sitting on the slightly dipped grey chair opposite him in the circle. "This is Amy. Amy Tiller."

Amy swallowed as the defeated faces turned to stare at her like she was the new animal in the zoo. She gave a slight wave, hoping that would be enough to break the gazes. It didn't work.

"Amy, do you want to tell us all a bit about yourself?" Dr Begum began scribbling notes in a dark blue pen on the clipboard that had been resting on his bony knees. It was raised slightly so the patients couldn't see what he was writing.

"I mean, there is not much to say." Amy pulled her knees onto the chair to prevent the impending jig in her leg from taking hold. "I am here because I'm one of the lucky ones to be dying at twenty-two years old from stage four renal cell carcinoma. But that's not exactly news. We're all here because we're dying, right?"

The group fidgeted awkwardly, not appreciating Amy's candidness.

"You're not simply a dying woman, Amy. You're a person who's achieved a great number of things. You got a first-class honours in biomedical science and helped lead your women's football team to victory last year in the county cup final! Your terminal illness doesn't define you."

Amy let out an audible snort, her thin lips rising to reveal her straight teeth. "Yeah, because me having a seizure in the first fifteen minutes of that game really secured the victory!" Her finger began tracing the embroidered circle-shaped Converse logo on her shoe. "None of it matters now anyways," she muttered defeatedly.

"You still have time to spend," Dr Begum reminded her. "Time to do things you have always wanted to do but never ironically had the time for before. You could even right the wrongs in the lives of your loved ones."

Amy's mouth went dry. How could Dr Begum possibly know about her dysfunctional family? Was he secretly telepathic? No, it was just a guess. Who doesn't have a dysfunctional family these days?

"What is the one thing you want to do before you die?"

"Repair my father's broken relationship with his siblings!" Amy blurted, immediately regretting her openness with all the empathetic looks she was now receiving.

Dr Begum appeared proud. He threw the clipboard onto the wooden floor. That was all the proof needed. Amy was not done with living yet.

"How would you do it?"

"I don't know," Amy barked back. She was aggressively rubbing at her neck until the skin beneath came warm. "Over text. I have been meaning to for a while. The messages are always in my text field, but I am too scared to send them. I don't know why?" She threw her hands up, knowing her lack of reasoning to be pathetic.

"Why do you want to do it?"

She took a pained breath in. "Because I don't want my father to be alone once I'm gone. We've only had each other for the last eight years. Soon enough, he'll only have himself."

"Well, I think you should do it," chimed a wheelchair-bound dishevelled man to Amy's left.

He had the most alive eyes that Amy had ever seen, a colour as vibrant as the rising sun, contrasted by his onyx-coloured mop hair. To hide the milky white complexion of his arms, he had them tattooed to death with an array of random, fading tattoos ranging from cartoon characters like SpongeBob SquarePants, Arabic quotes and a T-bone steak. He was an eccentric man who reminded Amy of someone she had once known a long time ago.

"What is life without a little risk?" He grinned.

Amy smiled back.

"Well, that settles it then, Amy. You've got a family reunion to arrange," Dr Begum beamed, clapping his hands excitedly together. It warmed his heart to see his patients connecting. "Now, who wants to discuss last night's god-awful Game of Thrones finale?"

"Hey, it was Amy, wasn't it?" Called a familiar high-pitched voice from behind as Amy made her way back to her bedroom.

She stopped and turned around, so the stranger could finally catch up to her. "Yeah, it was. Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"It's Tomas," he said, holding out a hairy hand.

Amy took it and shook it strongly.

Tomas leant forward and whispered with a wink, "But at night, they call me Miss Valentine."

Amy choked back a surprised laugh. "Wait, you're a drag queen?"

Tomas dropped her hand. "Was," he corrected Amy. "The very best. Every club in the North East used to hound me with money to perform for them, but I turned every one of them down. Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend was my home. I must admit it was a shit nightclub, but the laughs and memories I had in that place will last a lifetime." His eyes closed briefly as he was transported back to his long-lost glory days. "They have begged me to go back, you know."

"Really? If that's the case, why did you come here?" Amy asked, eyeing up the endless beige walls surrounding her and Tomas.

"Because I am no longer the woman I once was." Tomas began rolling up his grey tracksuit bottoms.

"W-what are you doing?" Amy asked in a fearful voice.

"Relax, sweetie. You are not my type." Where Tomas' left leg should have been was a shining prosthetic. "Stage four osteosarcoma took it," he explained, noting Amy's sympathetic and relieved face. "It is in my lungs now. They estimate that I have about four months left to live," he wheezed for the first time during the entirety of the pair's conversation.

"I am sorry."

"For what, kid? You did not put the metastases in my lungs. Or did you?" He joked, rubbing his bum chin as he assessed Amy from head to toe. "How about you send that message, and I'll do you the courtesy of showing you, Miss Valentine?"

Amy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She didn't understand Tomas' intense interest in her family life. "Why are you so obsessed with me sending that message?"

"Because I don't want you to feel guilty about not having done it when you're on your deathbed," he said seriously, his entire joking demeanour gone. "You'll feel guilty enough as it is believing you had not achieved enough in your short life. Trust me; you don't need more fuel under the fire."

Amy bit at the inside of her cheek as Tomas' words resonated with her. "You're right," she sighed. Fishing into her baby blue mom jean's pocket, she pulled out her iPhone. "I need to send that message." She opened the chats with each of her Aunts and Uncles and finally hit send on the words that had been sitting there for an eternity.

"Miss Valentine will now be seeing you next week," Tomas smiled proudly as Amy returned the cellular device to her pocket.

Amy could not help the giddy look of excitement that crept up on her tired face as she and Tomas reached her room. The Tiller family reunion was finally happening, and she had finally made a friend in her soon-to-be final resting place, Gentle Haloes.