Dreamless in Early Graves (Vic Fuentes / Kellic) ✔️

Chapter 2: The Help

before anyone starts, no this book is not based off The Fault in Our Stars in ANY way at all. I watched that movie once when it just came out, and I remember crying a lot because I could relate since I actually lost my girlfriend to cancer a few years back (quick fact) but other than that I don't even really remember what all happened in it.

so yeah... this is completely different.

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Today was a good day, thus far. The last chemotherapy session that I had a few days back wasn't bothering me anymore physically, and I felt alright.

I had good days. . . I had bad days. . . but I never knew ahead of time what kind of day it would be. Every morning that I woke up, it was a complete surprise.

But today. . . today was a good day. I felt pretty fit, there was no nausea, no headaches. . . I almost felt normal. And those were the days that I appreciated a great deal.

Those were the days that I could actually spend a few hours cleaning my house, go out to get groceries, cook without gagging, and dance around a little while I blasted music through the speakers that were lined around my home.

I couldn't exaggerate things, though. I had to remind myself that my energy levels were limited. I couldn't dance like I used to. I definitely wasn't as limber and graceful as I used to be. I couldn't do my old routines on my own anymore, and I did miss that.

It was around lunchtime that day when my doorbell rang unexpectedly. People normally didn't exactly visit me without warning, if they visited at all, so I was completely caught off guard by the noise, causing me to drop my glass of grapefruit juice on the tiled kitchen floor.

I groaned softly as I looked at the damage. "I had just fucking finished cleaning that. . ." I murmured bitterly. "Such a waste of a good grapefruit, too."

I left it for what it was, and made my way to the front of the house to answer the door. When I opened it, I was faced with someone completely unfamiliar to me.

It was a guy, about my age, casually dressed in black skinny jeans, a colorful button up shirt and a red snapback resting on his brown curls. I think he was Hispanic, judging by his slight tan and dark eyes.

"If you're here to teach me about the unconditional love of God, don't bother. . . I am thirty, never done a bad thing in my life, and I'm dying. . . if there is a God, he's an asshole." I murmured sourly, narrowing my eyes at him.

The man snorted lightly. "No, I assure you, I'm not here to do that." He said, smiling kindly. "I'm your care worker." He then added.

I frowned a little, inspecting him from head to toe. "Is it Wednesday already?" I questioned, a little confused.

"It's Thursday, actually." He carefully corrected me.

"Ah." I concluded. "So you're late."

The man's eyes widened. "Yeah uh- I'm sorry about that." He murmured, chuckling nervously as he scratched the back of his neck. He looked embarrassed, which only amused me all the more.

"It's fine. . ." I assured him. I didn't really need him, anyway. Or at least, that's what I thought at the time. "Come on in."

He stepped inside and I closed the door behind him, before making my way back to the kitchen, remembering the mess I had left behind there. I sighed at the heap, and began picking up the bigger glass shards that were scattered across the floor.

"Let me help you with that."

I looked at the Hispanic man, a little unimpressed as he parked himself in front of me and began to clean up the glass and the liquid off the floor, doing it in such a way that I couldn't do anything myself.

I groaned in annoyance and just tried to ignore it as I went to grab a new glass and filled it halfway with cold water. I then squeezed myself past the eager man and opened up the fridge to get myself another grapefruit.

The second I grabbed a knife to cut it in half; there he was again, insisting to do it for me. Which kind of piqued the urge to throw the grapefruit at his head. But instead, I kept myself collected and just sighed as I stepped back and watched him cut the fruit in half.

"Um, what were you going to do with this?" He then asked me, his brows furrowing.

I didn't answer. I just crossed my arms over my chest and kept looking at him, loving how nervous it made him that he had no idea what to do.

His eyes kept flicking between the grapefruit before him and the glass of water that stood further down on the counter. I could almost hear the gears turning in his brain.

Was it evil of me to enjoy watching him squirm like that?

Yeah, okay, perhaps it was.

I unfolded my arms, snickering a little as I grabbed one half of the grapefruit and began to squeeze it above the glass of water. He watched my every move, and it was becoming pretty irritating already.

I disposed of the now useless bit of fruit and grabbed my glass, taking a sip as I turned towards the man and leaned against the side of the counter.

"What's your name?" I then asked him, remembering how he hadn't even introduced himself yet. He obviously wasn't exactly a professional. Not that it mattered, because at this rate he'd be gone in no time.

"Um- Vic. My name's Vic." He quickly replied.

"Well, Vic. . ." I then began. "Don't fucking do that." I simply said to him, wiggling my finger to the floor where the mess had been just minutes ago.

His eyes snapped to the floor and then back to me. "But I'm just here to help you." He said.

I sighed and shook my head. "No, you're here to do the things I am incapable of doing. Which is fine, but if you're seriously going to treat me like I'm practically dead already, you can just leave right now."

Vic's brows furrowed again, but then he nodded slowly. "You're right, I'm sorry." He murmured apologetically.

I knew he meant well, but people treating me like they had to do everything for me really annoyed me. It felt degrading and it made me feel sicker than I actually was. I absolutely hated it.

"Right, let's start over, shall we?" I then suggested, deciding to cut him some slack as I held out my hand to him.

He smiled a little as well, accepting the gesture and shaking my hand. "Hi, I'm Mariana. And on good days, I can still do just about everything on my own." I said, faking a bit of my enthusiasm.

"And I'm Vic. . . I'll be here to do whatever you can't do and whatever you want me to do."

"Perfect, that's much better."

We both laughed a little. I suppose he wasn't all bad. His heart was in the right place, but his head just needed a bit of a push in the right direction.