And Then Death Held Out His Hand

The Choice

Jacobs shoulder is wet, my cheeks damp with tears. His arm is tight around me, his lips pressed to my hair. The wood of the jetty is hard beneath me, the colours of the setting sun reflecting off the water.

We are back from the appointment, finished with countless hours spent with councillors and specialists. I don't want to go through chemo again, if I die, I want to still be me. Not a body overcome with medicine induced fatigue and sickness, with little or no hope of getting better.

"What are you going to do?"
Jacob murmurs softly into my ear. His voice hides a thousand questions, none of which I know how to answer.

I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut andburying my face into his shirt. I think of the countless needles, the side affects of chemo. I know it's selfish, but I don't want to lose my hair. Again.
I raise my head, staring out over the water. "Nothing."
He nods, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Even with chemo I was going to die. I might as well die while still being myself. He already knew what my choice would be. Even when I didn't know myself.
Then I have to push away the thoughts of what I'll be leaving behind. How the people i love will go on with their lives without me.
Jacob sees my expression and gives a small smile, leaning in so our lips connect. My breath hitches as he deepens the kiss, intwining his fingers in my hair. I can taste the tears. The emotional pain blooming as we intensify, tears of both of us mixing together and gathering in salty pools.

His hands slide up under my shirt, his palms warm against my skin. "How many of these moments do we have left."
The bitter though comes before I can control it.

-----------------------------
"Stell?" Eve's voice comes timid through the wood of the door, the door handle twisting.
I sigh, playing with the intertwined hearts around my neck. I don't feel like talking, it's all anyone's been doing, encouraging me to fight.
But I am fighting. I'm fighting to stay strong, to leave this earth whole, not a fragmented whisper of who I used to be.
I cough, finding the strength within me to speak.

"You can come in." My voice is flat, absent of life. Cancer is harsh enough that you loose yourself even without the harsh drug treatment.

She enters, pausing for her eyes to adjust to the gloomy dungeon that is my bedroom.
My bed dips as she sits beside me, trying to meet my eyes, of which look straight at my lap.

"Stell, I just..." she fades to a whisper, her eyes full with sadness, face wet with tears.

"I wanted to say, that, you don't have to stay because of me."

A buzzing sound fills my head and I flashback.
"Stella, promise me that you'll never leave, not like mummy and daddy?
Her eyes shine up at me, reflecting the stars from outside the orphanages window, showing hope. Unlike mine.

I smile, taking her small hand in mine. I'll never leave you, I promise I'll always be there for you.

"Always."

I open my eyes and gaze at my sister. She was my reason to stay, but now....

I throw myself into her arms, crying openly, coating her shirt with salty tears of gratitude. I feel her frame wrack with suppressed sobs as she grips my back.

"Even if I'm not here, I'll always love you. That's a promise I can make."

Always.

She just hugs me tighter.
—