Dear Hope [UNDER EDITTING]

Letter twenty-one [EDITTING]

Dear Sadness,

I didn't realise that the situation was as bad as it is. Things just went from bad to life-threatening in a couple of hours. And that is no exaggeration.

I went to the hospital today to visit Sally. I never really liked hospital, something about the smell and the beeping I suppose. Maybe it's because of what the place's purpose is, who knows. The bottom line is it's not really a comfortable place for me to be. But anything for a friend I guess. And by friend I mean Jemma... I think.

I went up to reception and asked for the floor and room of Sally. After a thank you to the receptionist and farewelling my mum at the door of the reception and hearing for the six-hundredth time that she would be waiting at the sofas. I fiddled with the 'Get well soon!!' teddy bear and the small bunch of flowers in the elevator and avoided making eye contact with the five or so other people in the elevator with me. Maybe it was the fear of meeting the eyes of other people here for those not so lucky as me, to have those wilting away. Those were my elevator thoughts, anyway.

As I made my way down the corridor of floor five searching for room C23 the eerie silence filled the air. Another thing that made hospitals an uneasy place. It just seems too quiet for such a large area. C23 was only a few rooms away from the elevator in this maze of uncomfortableness.

I stood in front of the door, looking around at the empty hallways. It is surprisingly empty in hospitals. And the walls are very pale. Pale like Sally's sickened face. What if Sally didn't want to see me? What if it was all just a bad idea to be here? What if her parents were there to tell me how horrible I've been to their daughter?

I inhaled deeply as I pushed the door slightly open. I peered inside to see which section Sally was in. I passed an elderly woman who was coughing profusely and a small child clutching a grey stuffed dog and holding the hand of his mother. Sickness really doesn't discriminate. If only it were a little nicer in it's non-discriminatory deeds.

Sally was at the end of the corridor, staring emptily out the window. I inhaled again, a little too loud apparently, and saw the surprise in her eyes turning to a pained smile. I returned the smile, my cheeks feeling riddled with guilt, my eyes trying to hide the surprise in the colour of her cheeks being so... faint.

"Hey, Sally," I whispered, extending the teddy bear and flowers out to her. She nodded and took them from me, putting them on a table with the rest of the plastic and fluff. I sat on the chair next to her.

"Sup," she replied dryly.

"So, how are you?" I laughed awkwardly, trying to make small talk.

"Fine," she replied in her dry tone.

We sat in awkward silence before Sally said "Aren't you going to ask why I'm here? Or are you scared to offend me? Jemma must have been the first and only person to ask what was wrong with me straight up, of course."

"Umm, so why are you here?" I laughed half-heartedly, not making eye contact out of shame.

"Oh, I'm glad you asked!" Sally responded in a fake tone. "You see, a long time ago, when my mother was still alive, she had ovarian cancer. You see, it's hereditary cancer. That means, ding ding ding, I was the lucky child to inherit the cursed disease."

I looked at her in shock, in shock of everything. The fact that she had cancer, her lighthearted mood (even if it was fake) in spite of her condition, the fact that there was no one with her at all, the list could go on.

"W-Why..." I started, deciding to hold my tongue.

"Oh go on," Sally sighed, "I hate it when people are too concerned about offending people to ask legitimate questions. It's not like you're trying to be mean or belittle me or anything."

I hung my head in shame. "I was..." My guilty mouth began again, "Was going to ask where... where, like... your family is... like your dad or your siblings."

"Ha, well, you know, life goes on, bills don't pay themselves," Sally replied with a slight smile. "They spend a lot of their precious time here when they're free."

"Oh... Well, that's good..." I said, not knowing what else to respond with. "I suppose you wish they were here more often though..."

"Not really," Sally said, dropping the fake happiness. "I'm suffering, but only part of the pain is from the disease. The other half? The way this cursed demon drags everyone around me here, the way it forces them to suffer too. How could such a heartless poison exist?"

"I can't," I said, standing up abruptly in my chair. It fell backwards, slamming the ground with a large wooden thump, bouncing off the white floor before falling back down again. I stood in silence with my head forced down by you. My undone hair covered my face and hid away the clear, cold tears that streamed like desolate highways down my face.  I didn't say goodbye as I sped out the door, I couldn't bear it.  

I went home soon. I wiped the tears off in the area next to the elevator, attempting to erase the red from my sore eyes. I stood in the elevator with my head down, focussing on nothing but keeping myself from bursting into a million tears like a complete idiot. I lied to my mother, telling her that Sally was fine, that everything was fine, that my eyes were just 'itchy', that there was still hope. But the truth is Hope wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere. 

I had planted false friendship in a girl strapped to a bed because of cancer. And the only reason I was giving her the slightest bit of attention was that of her illness. All for some jerks who don't care about anyone anyway. 

Who'd have thought... The people I despised the most ended up being who I became. I didn't even apologise to Sally.

Regards,

Jerk