Gwendalynn: The Girl With Cancer

Gwendalynn | Gwen OneShot #1

When it all ended... - Gwen

APRIL - 2013

You hear all the time that when you die, you go to Heaven, or you go nowhere. For me, I didn't know where I was. All I knew was that I was in the room where my funeral would be held.

The room only had ten people inside. Most of them were workers, setting the place up for everyone. My mother was setting a few flowers on a table nearby where little papers were folded in half, my face on every one of them. My father was on the other side of the room, gazing sadly over pictures of me in the front area next to the podium. It was a troubling thing to witness. It hurt to see them so distraught, but what hurt more was seeing my boyfriend.

Kyle was standing with his hands in his pockets, dressed in a black suit. He was in the perfect attire for a funeral. If I were alive, I would tell him how cute he looks in his dark apparel. I always loved seeing him dressed like this, especially since he hates wearing suits, but now it was different. He was dressed in clothes that he shouldn't be dressed in. Not now. Not today. Not ever.

His mouth was pressed into a firm line and his face showed only loneliness. He stood frozen, staring over my casket at my lifeless body.

Suddenly, I was next to him, watching him carefully.

My boyfriend missed me.

My heart ached. I didn't try speaking, knowing that he couldn't hear me. I didn't try touching him, knowing that he wouldn't even flinch. I didn't try getting his attention, because I knew that no matter what, I was gone to him and if he thought I was here, he'd think he's crazy and that he just misses me, that I'm not truly in his presence. There was no point.

He sniffed, and then lifted a hand to rub his nose. A slow tear fell from his right eye. I gulped. He put a hand on my actual body, grasping my fingers. He shook his head and then let go.

I wanted to do something, anything to take away the hurt he was feeling. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to go through any of this.

It would've been better if I never met him. Take away all the good times we had and take away the happiness he and I both felt. I would trade it all so that he could be happy and not attend this funeral like everyone else.

But I wondered... If I didn't meet him, would he be happy?

He was in such a messed up part in his life before he met me. He was so positive that his existence was something no one needed. But he was wrong. He meant so much to me that words can't even explain. His existence was something I needed.

I loved him. I still love him.

And seeing him still loving me, still hurting over my death, was something that I felt would kill me again. It caused more pain than the cancer itself.

I watched Kyle slowly bend down and kiss my forehead. I wanted so badly to be alive, to tell him that I'm fine and that he doesn't need to worry about me, that I'm watching him and that I'm not leaving.

I'll never leave.

He mouthed something to me, or maybe he whispered it - either way, I didn't hear it and I didn't know what he said. I wanted to cry, but no tears left my eyes. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair at all.

I don't know how much time passed, but up until everyone entered the funeral room, Kyle was still standing over what used to be me.

Suddenly, my father put a hand on Kyle's shoulder and said, "It's going to start now, son."