Not Yet

I'm dying. I'm going to die tonight. Friday, November 3rd, 2016. Tonight I will pass away in a cold operating room of four white walls with my chest wide open. I don't deserve this. This just isn't how it was supposed to be. I'm a seventeen-year-old girl with a broken heart, literally. This shouldn't be happening.

Here I sit in the boring waiting room of Bayhealth Medical Center. The rows of chairs around me are empty, green and highly uncomfortable. I think I've been here for about an hour. I haven't been at the hospital since February of this year. Beaten up and unable to see by my horrid ex. My leg shakes nervously, bouncing up and down furiously as my jeans rub against my pale skin. Even with my gray puffy sweater and Jacob's jacket on, I can still feel the cold creeping its way through the threads. I'm getting impatient just sitting here now, but I refuse to look at the clock. Out of fear, however, I glace at it. It's a standard clock that reads fifteen minutes to 7 in the morning. It's ticking. I'm ticking. My heart is a ticking time bomb. Fifteen minutes until death arrives. I'm pale as a ghost as my body shivers in horror.

"Margaret," a brisk looking nurse says to the patient ahead of me. I flinch at the words, my body rumbling and my heart pumping so much I can feel the blood trying to fight its way through the clots in my veins. I watch as the timid old lady beside me gets up, her scarf yellow scarf dropping down her back and her knitted hat sitting comfortably on her head. She slowly walks to the door where the nurse is waiting for her, and I wondered what the old lady's story was, why she was here and what she was having done. I bite down on my lower lip, anticipating the pain I was going to wake up to, if I wake up at all.

"Stay positive, everything is going to be alright," Jacob said, "I promise." I believe him. His sweet words comfort me right now, but I wish he was here holding my cold, small hand, instead of being miles away driving to go on a cruise with his family in the warm, hot state of Florida.

No. Shut up, Nora. Stop thinking about him or you're gonna start crying again and this time I don't know if I'll be able to stop the tears.

I look around the waiting room as it's empty except for me. I've been alone in here with just my thoughts, just like I've been alone for so long with just my broken heart and soul. It's always been this way, I feel. Me, alone in a corner of my own mind, counting down the hours until I break from my own solitude and confinement I've built myself. There are castle walls around me, and I am trapped in the center garden of it all, but this isn't a garden with live, fresh and colorful bright flowers. No, this garden has no life, for nothing can survive this bitter cold that lies here with me.

The wooden door swings open and a nurse in blue scrubs walks into the doorway. I know it's for me, but the sound of my name in her small voice made me sit still. My leg has stopped jumping like a frog after a fly. My thumbs stop moving around each other and I just look at her for what feels like an hour until I finally breathe and stand up, finding the courage to pick up one foot after the other and move towards her. She had a warm smile and dark brown hair that was dyed that fell on her shoulders and crowned her beautiful face, but her big blue eyes seemed cold and lonely. I know this because it's the same expression I see in the mirror every morning.

"Hello Nora," she cooed softly as she put her soft and surprisingly warm hand on my shoulder to guide me into the back, "My name is Julie and I'm just going to get you ready for your surgery."

I nod slowly, my lips are sealed shut and I can't dare to speak. I watch the walls around me as I walk down the white corridor. My nose flares up as I smell everything that is sterilized, everything that is wiped down to an exact formula of clean.

Last time I was here was because my ex hurt me, and he hurt me worse then I've ever been hurt. I believe, metaphorically, that's when the heartbreak started to happen. I came to the hospital with a busted lip, a black eye, and a broken heart over hopeless love. Even though I said it was over, I still thought he would've came to see me and made sure I was okay. I knew he wouldn't though. He stopped caring halfway into our relationship and all I became was a toy.

Julie leads me to my room where the prep for surgery begins. The scratchy hospital gown sits on the bed, and so after Julie leaves me, I quickly strip down to just my garments and slide into the gown. I can feel every piece of fabric against my delicate skin. I could almost imagine every person who has worn this specific, pale blue gown. As I sat on the hospital bed and sank into its core, I realized that my time is shortening by the second. My heart is broken. It's been broken for a long while, and it all started with him. He's the reason I took the pills that messed with my blood. My blood is thicker now and clotting, just like how my love was for him. I just hope I can come out of this better than before.

A few minutes later, Julie walks back in with a doctor behind her. I think he said his name, but I was too lost in thought to catch what he said exactly, but I nodded in response to act like I was listening. He explains the procedure to me and I pretend to listen but I'm to the point where I don't care. I just want this to be over with already. I just want to wake up later with a bandage over my heart and begin to fully heal.

I lay down and the doctor, his hands cold and hard, holding a sharpie, where he takes it makes the long line in between my breasts where the procedure will take place. I look at it and I start to tear up, realizing that I'm not going to be the same after this. My heart will finally be healed after all the pain I've endured. The entire ache, all of the moving around, this is a point where I can put it all behind me. I sit up and start to sob, the tears rolling down my face and hitting the sheets underneath my chilling body. Julie takes my hands and tells me that everything is going to be ok. I hear Jacob's voice in that when she says it, how I'm going to be ok. I believe them. I believe I really am going to be all right.

The doctor looks at the clock behind me. I can't see it, but I know it's time. He asks me if I'm ready to be put under, and I say no, but I put on a sheepish smile to show I am. Lying back down, Julie places a clear mask over my nose and mouth and flicks the switch of the machine near by. It roars to life and I can already feel the gas entering my lungs.

"Everything is going to go great, we'll see you in a little while," the doctor smiles at me reassuring, and I trust him. I don't know this man, but all of a sudden I trust him with everything.

My eyelids start to get heavy, my mind is shutting down, and I'm starting to be put to sleep. For once this entire night, I don't think about Jacob, about my foster family, or about anyone really. I think about myself for once. How everything is going to work out. This isn't going to be the end of me; this is just the beginning of a new chapter. I'm going to die, and my lifespan is probably going to be a little shorter than others, but I'm not going to die tonight. Not yet, I tell myself, I have so much more to do. This is a new start to my broken heart. No, my healed heart. I'm leaving this world yet. There's so much more to do. 

The blackness engulfs me. 

But I know I'm going to wake up to a new light.