A Month To Live

A Month To Live (42)

If there was a hell after you died, I'd certainly be going there. And soon. Maybe they'd saved the throne for me. Only someone completely evil could do what I did.

I'd had to pull over after realising it was probably very unsafe for me to drive when I could barely see. I made sure I was far enough away from Richmond, before parking up at a gas station and sobbing uncontrollably. I didn't cry often. But when I did, everything tended to come flooding out at once. And there was a lot to come out.

I'm not sure how long I cried for but eventually, the tears just kind of dried up. Instead of the sense of relief I usually felt after a long cry, I was filled with white hot anger at myself.

What the hell was wrong with me? Here I was feeling sorry for myself when I'd just broken one of the purest people's hearts. I guess I was crying for him. And about him. And because of him. His face flashed in my mind once more and I punched the steering wheel. Then I did it again. I did it a few more times too.

'Fuck!' I yelled out, covering my face with my hands.

I rested my forehead against the wheel and took in a deep breath. For the second time that day, I ended up jumping back as someone knocked on my window. I had the bizarre expectation that I'd see him standing there but no.

No it wasn't him.

'You mind moving your car?' the guy asked. 'I need to fill up my back tyre with air and you're blocking the pump.'

I nodded in reply and he gave me a quick smile before heading back to his truck parked behind me. I let out a deep breath and flicked the keys to start my car up again. I blinked in surprise as I rested my hands on the wheel. My knuckles were red raw and couple of them were bleeding. I squeezed my hands tighter and some of the blood oozed out.

I deserved the pain really.

I pulled out of the parking spot and back onto the road, putting my foot down and speeding ahead with a grimace.

Home. I didn't want to go back there. I wanted to go back to him. I wanted to tell him I'd lied. I wanted to hug him and kiss him and tell him I loved him. I wanted him to forgive me for what I'd done and what I hadn't told him. I wanted to stroke back his hair and tell him everything was going to be okay even though it wouldn't. I just wanted him back.

I gritted my teeth as the pounding headache increased. I welcomed the pain. I needed the distraction. Besides, no pain would ever be worse than what I'd already experienced today. I thought that the day I got diagnosed was certainly the worst day of my life but I was wrong.

It was today.

* * *

I took in a deep breath. I was parked outside my house but hadn't yet had the courage to get out and go inside. No one was even home. Yet I still didn't want to go in. As soon as I stepped in that door, my life at Richmond would be over. I'd have to face reality again.

I got out.

I didn't even remember where I'd put my house keys. I had to use the spare one hidden under the flowerpot.

I stood inside the hallway for a few seconds, getting used to the familiar smells again. I realised that in all the time I'd been away I didn't even miss it. I should have. That would have been normal. But I didn't.

I ended up going into the kitchen and setting the spare key down on the counter. I should probably eat seeing as I hadn't done all day. I had no appetite though. I wasn't even thirsty. I wasn't really anything.

I stood there looking out the back window for a long time. It barely registered in my mind when the front door open and closed. It was only when I heard the hurried footsteps towards the kitchen and my mom's gasp that I finally snapped out of it.