One Life

Chapter Sixteen

All I remember was that one day I'm at Aunt Lucy's, then the next I'm hooked up under a shit load of machines.

I ignored the pain shooting up and down my body from the slightest movement, seeking for someone to explain to me what was happening.

"Calm down, Stella."

That's when I realized that I was panting and sweating.

I looked like a lost girl or something, because I whipped my head around looking for that voice's owner. When I found it, I was explained to that I had went through Vitals, IV Catheter, Blood Draws, and Infusions.

I didn't say anything but I knew it had something to do with cancer.

Did I have hair?

I couldn't quite tell. Either my hair was pulled out of my face, or I was... Bald.

BALD! No!

Tears poured down my face, as I tried crying out Aunt Lucy's name with a tube down my throat.

But I'd just realized she'd been here the whole time, in the far corner of the room, sleeping. But not peacefully. Nor comfortably.

Her worn out, purple eyelids shot open in alert as if an intruder was harming me.

I felt bad though, she looked stressed and tired like she was suffering from sleepless nights and I'd woken her up. For all I knew, the sleepless nights were probably because of me.

Wait? I'd slept through nights? What? Impossible. I just saw Harry yesterday.

The doctor warned Aunt Lucy not to touch me as she fumbled with the tubes in my nose and the tube halfway down my throat.

When my lungs began to burn, I began to sob, breathlessly.

"What is it?" The woman said.

Either my face was beginning to get purple or something because suddenly the oxygen tubes were placed back in my nose.

All I seemed to hear was Aunt Lucy's worry cries for me, as my eyes swam slowly into my sockets.

"Can she not breathe properly?!"

"Ma'am calm done. She's breathing. Calm down."

I was barely breathing. Barely.

I needed the oxygen tank. I'll never be able to breath on my own. Never.

Eyes closed, but ears open big as day.

I listened in for an hour before I decided to come back. You know what I mean?

"Lucy."

"Oh, Stella Elizabeth Hawthorne! Don't scare me like that." Her hand was in mine, but when it left mine, my eyes shot open.

"Please don't push the button!" I cried.

"Why not?" She retaliated.

"Because the nurses will drug me, and I'll sleep the rest of the day through." I slurred.

Did I mention the light was shining through the window? That's how I knew what time of day it was.

She didn't even have to think about it. She knew inside that she didn't want to click that red button, because that was killing time with me.

When she sat down right back next to me, I asked: "How long was I out?"

"8 ½ days."

"WHAT?!"

"Lower your voice," this was said in a low, stern voice. That was all I needed to shut up, or else my head would be on a wooden platter... Not silver, but wooden.

"Do I still have cancer?"

"No shit, Elizabeth." She huffed.

"Don't curse at me, I'm sensitive." I frowned, exaggerating.

She ignored me, as she straightened her clothes. "But you have only taken the first treatment..."

"Do I have hair?"

That's when she reached over to my forehead, brushing my hair into my face to see, and it had surprisingly grown, then she ran her hands through it, pulling away.

Aunt Lucy gasped, and I was eager to know why, because she was looking down at her lap.

"Oh, no."

"What?"

"Your hair, dear." She whispered.

Then her hand was in my face, many strands of hair wrapped around her thin fingers.

"I'm sorry." She said.

Then I didn't know what to say.

What exactly do you say when your hair is falling out because you have cancer? I don't know. There's no script for that.

I couldn't cry either, because I was too much in thought on what to do. Pondering, a lump appeared in my throat, but my lips only parted in response.

When I finally pulled myself from my shocked mode, merely seconds later, I found my voice.

"When can I go home?"

"I don't know." Was Lucy's answer, while pushing the red call button.

The nurse came in, and she'd asked the question I had just asked.

"When can Stella go home?"

"October 14th."

"And today is?"

"4 days before."

October 10th.

10 more days, and the guys will be gone. My heart tore a little but that's what I asked for when I walked out that door with no explanations.