"Options... I've ran out of Options..." (Book 3)

Chapter 133 - "Death..."

Chapter 133 - "Death..."

Clara's PoV

'What's wrong John? You look like you've seen a ghost' I hummed laying back on the bed afraid of sitting up because I knew it was going to hurt my ribs even more.

I don't know why I'm complaining - Avia was so much worse off than me - and yet I still seem to be complaining.

I been back at work for literally one day and it had killed me after having a week off. Plus with the investigation there's people in and out of my classroom all the time chatting to me and wanting to watch me teach my class.

I thought personally it was quite invasive but I'm pretty good with lesson plans and organise them quite well.

Plus the two weeks that I had, had off because of the complaint it had given me a chance to catch up on lesson plans.

At least if I did then get the sack I wouldn't be leaving my class in a bind.

'Clara I just got off the phone with Liz. Max passed away last night' John said making me sit up in complete and utter shock.

Thankfully the adrenaline of said shock meant that I wasn't overly bothered by the pain it caused but that wasn't the point.

''You what?'

'He passed away in his sleep last night. We knew he wasn't well. They were finding it impossible to get a transplant. He didn't have any siblings' John said but I knew all this.

He was much worse than Poppy.

We knew that and they knew that.

As she had started to get better after the bone marrow transplant, Max had just gotten worse because he wasn't yet fit enough for it.

It also opens your eyes to how easily this could have been Poppy. It makes you think about how easily John could have been walking in right now to tell me it was Poppy who had passed away.

Thankfully she's on the mend but not everyone has had such luck.

'He was only 7. He seemed fine at his party the other day' I mumbled.

'At least he got to have the party. I know it's depressing but at least he died on a good note?'

'I suppose'

'The funeral is Friday. She invited us if we'd like to go and pay our respects to him?' John said as I looked him in the eye.

'I want too. I've spent the last 6 months chatting to that little boy. If it wasn't for him playing with Poppy then Poppy might not be here either' I hummed  'What do we tell her?' I asked nervously.

'The truth'

- - -

'I want to go and play in the tree house' Poppy whined knowing that we had kept her kept her back for the moment from playing with girls so we could talk to her.

'In a minute munchkin. We just want to talk to you'

'Am I in trouble because whatever I did it was definitely Evie or henry' she said as the lie rolled off her tongue.

I decided to ignore that comment for know knowing that the reason behind it would most likely come out later and just got on with the task at hand.

'Okay so you know you go to the hospital with your friend Max sometimes?'

'Yeah. He's my friend' she nodded.

'Well you know that he was t very well like you?' I gunned. 'Well he was very ill and unfortunately he was so ill that he couldn't come and see you anymore' I explained in a way that an almost 5 year old could understand.

'Is he dead?' She asked bluntly.

I didn't expect her to say that but obviously she is quite an observant little girl and has had to grow up a lot quicker than her brother and sisters did in some ways because she was ill.

'It's very sad but yes' I confirmed. There was no point hiding it. If she knew what it all meant then why deny her the privilege of knowing?

'Am I so sick that I'm going to die?' She pouted sadly as I almost shed a tear.

She's smart. You can't lie to her. But I do t want to frighten her. Thankfully John was on hand at the door when I didn't have an answer.

'Of course not munchkin' he smiled kissing her forehead.

- - -

'Oh my goodness how are you doing?' I asked as I walked into the pub for the wake.

It wasn't really the place for a 4 year old but because if was a 7 year olds funeral there was a few children around all dressed up in their best black attire.

I had simply chose for Poppy to wear one of her black dresses that was a bit flashy and glittery but it was one of the only things she had... if was either that or a hoodie jumper with a skull on the back (don't ask why she even owns that)

'I'm done really. How is Poppy doing?' She asked politely.

'Really well. She's in remission and hopefully will be weaned by the end of the Summer' I explained.

Once she was weaned then she can go back for regular blood transfusions and check ups until her immune system is a lot better.

We hope by Christmas she'll be a lot healthier.

Once her immune system does back into place then she might put a little more weight on.

It was difficult to talk and see her and I knew it would be because we were at the funeral of a child who and exactly the same condition as Poppy and didn't make it. It was hard to boast too much about Poppy's progress and improvement and how she is going to be okay when someone else has lost their child and is going through so much more.

'We're getting through it' she assured barely managing to make eye contact with Poppy. But who could blame her?

Poppy was alive and Max wasn't.