So that's my story. How I got stuck on this couch waiting to die. It's been four days since they have sent me home from the hospital. Coincidentally it's Christmas Eve. I'm exhausted and I haven't made any sign to the group of family and friends around me that today feels different than the ones before. That I think today might be the day I leave them behind.
I feel lighter somehow. Almost less worried. Like i'm not dying. Something I haven't felt in a while. Maybe it's because Fletch came this morning to see me and is holding my hand. I'm not sure. Even though I feel different the day passes just the same as the rest. Though I have Fletcher by my side and there is Christmas music playing in the background.
People have brought me presents when they came to visit. It's unlikely that I will ever open them. It feels like the only gift I will be opening this year is an end to sickness and life. No matter how hard I have tried to remain optimistic, I feel myself submitting to pessimistic thoughts. I have been strong, I have fought with all of my being but how can I ever be sure it's enough?
***
By sunset I'm exhausted and I feel my eyes become heavy. My voice is tired and I am exhausted. Still I feel lighter like a burden is being removed. I've spent the whole day drifting in and out of sleep. People have mulled in and out of the room. Almost like they can sense the difference in how I feel. The TV is still on running through hours of mindless shows. Cartoon laughter, claps, and loud phrases come from them.
But those little annoying things in life are what I'm going to miss most. The way the twins seemed to purposely leave their toys for people to trip over. The annoying way my mother hovered when I was healthy enough to actually go out and have fun. The horrible dad jokes my father made at breakfast. Those were the things I was leaving behind. But I stopped my mind's wandering, it was too much thinking. I'm too tired for that now.
I feel my eyes start to close. One, two, three seconds and my eyes are shut. I see only vague light through my lids. I can't help but feel that it is the last time I will close my eyes. Visions swirl around me. Falling of my bike, age four. First day of Kindergarten, age five. Finishing Elementary school, age eleven. Awkward stage age twelve. Starting high school, age fifteen. Getting my driver's license, age sixteen. Receiving my diagnosis, age seventeen. And on my eighteenth birthday I see nothing. A pitch black endless abyss.
Goodbye Life.
***
Author's Note: This IS NOT the end.
YOU ARE READING
12 Last Words
General FictionDella Rosser, a sarcastic and emotional teen is diagnosed with lung cancer in January of her senior year in high school. In the next twelve months cancer wreaks havoc on her body and her life. Her story is one of hope, sadness, love, happiness, and...
