You Awoke With A Start {COMPLETED}

CHAPTER VI: Be Still, Thine Aching Heart

Chapter Six: Be Still, Thine Aching Heart

The last part was about death.

"I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Wallace, but I'm afraid you have multiple large cell neuroendocrine tumors growing on your right lung."

You didn't understand.

"This, is essentially a very rare form of cancer with no real cure. Chemotherapy is still an option, though, and radiation could also help slow it down. You're quite young, so let's not rule anything out just yet."

Liz must have understood, she was crying. Aiden looked like he'd seen a ghost.

Once the doctor left to go take another look at the results of the x-ray, you wondered if the pain in your chest was from the thing Doc said was on your lung, or your heart breaking when Liz let out the sob she was holding. You didn't want to ask why she was so upset, for all you knew it was a simple infection and he'd send you off with a prescription for some antibiotics and that would be the end of it. It must have been more serious.

You'd never heard the word "cancer" before, the very word was a curse and all of your family had avoided using it, and when they did, you didn't know why it was so inappropriate. Just another common sickness that went away with time leaving nothing in its wake.

Of course, that wasn't the case.

The doctor came back looking more somber than before, his eyes were glazed over in a way that must have been fairly common to him. You were told to "get your affairs in order", which came to yours ears as "prepare to die". There was no way to console Liz, and Aiden simply turned and left. Part of you wanted to believe it wasn't real, the doctor was lying and playing some elaborate, awful prank on you. You went to bed that night still hoping.

The pain in your chest was worse than it had ever been before and breathing became an increasingly difficult task. Dying was much less extravagant than you had always thought it would be, having your girlfriend bring you food with tears in her eyes, having your best friend approach you with no words to explain the corresponding pain in his chest, made you want to die sooner. You had a feeling the agony you were in paled in comparison to Liz and Aiden's. If the roles were reversed and either of them had this god forsaken disease, you would want to go with them. They were your friends, your family, your whole world.

Boycotting treatment was a good idea in the long run, what was the point of delaying the inevitable? Accepting your death was step one, according to the WikiHow on how to deal with cancer, and that's exactly what you did, it was Liz and Aiden who couldn't accept it. They looked at you like a kid looked at a butterfly with its wings ripped off - there was nothing but pity in their condescending eyes. Aiden had to deal with his own disease which was at an intensity that worried you constantly.

You considered suicide again, briefly.

Of course you ushered the idea out of your head promptly; your friends would never forgive you. Plus, the mere thought of Liz finding you hanging from a high beam in the ceiling or in a pool of blood with a pistol lodged in your mouth made you physically sick. If her life wasn't already fucked beyond belief, it would be after that. You'd also explored the possibility of warning Aiden prior to doing a swan dive from the Space Needle. You were upset by how close you came to actually doing so, the only thing stopping you was the $35 fee and the inability to stand for long periods of time. Granted it wouldn't be that long, maybe you could sit in the elevator or bum a wheelchair from some hospital. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

At night, as you'd lay in bed doing your damn best to distract yourself from the radiating pain in your body with a first edition copy of Catch-22, you'd swear on your life you could feel Death watching you with no less than eager eyes. You'd gone your entire life believing that death would be the easy part, you'd get in a car accident or maybe get caught on the raw end of a drug deal gone sour. You never expected it would be like this, so quite, so drawn out, so fucking agonizing.

You died on a blistering June afternoon.

Aiden and Elizabeth visited your grave and there was no mistaking the tears caked in their waterlines. They couldn't afford anything fancier than a piece of rock with an indistinct carving of "A. WALLACE".

Next to you, in an equally lack luster tomb that you were slightly to blame for, was:

N. MARROE.

You, and your beloved Nicole, would soon be reunited.

END.