And Then Death Held Out His Hand

Breaking Point

I rest my head on Jacobs chest, focusing on the thumping of his heartbeat, ignoring the oncologists words which tumble inside my head, scrambling to come to the conclusion that I only have four weeks.
It finally registers that I'm going to die.

In four weeks...
I'll have to say goodbye.
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"I'm sorry."
The doctors sympathetic but controlled face shows nothing. The room seems to waver as I lose focus, hope. With each exhale of exhausted breath leaves a part of my will to survive.

"The tests came back concluding that the cancer is developing, coming close to being strong enough to force your major organs into shutdown mode."

She pauses, and I know that this is where my days become numbered.

"We expect you have no more than four weeks to live."

The countdown begins.

My ears seem to ring, an intense numbing silence taking over my senses. I break away from the unfeeling eyes, the person who seemed to just seal my fate.

I clutch the icy doorknob, exploding out of the sterile room and pushing past Jacob and Eve, their faces blending as if it's smudged ink as my eyes water.

Outside, I sink to the ground, a buzzing noise rising to a crescendo inside my head. Squeezing my eyes tight, I rock backwards and forwards. My lungs seem to be being compressed, as if held in the vice like claws of a creature of darkness, a grip of despair, shadows.

Faces, of the ones I am yet to loose, play on the dark screen of my eyelids. Jacob, leaning down to gently place his lips on mine, his gold green eyes glinting with life.
Christine, sharing glances at me from across the classroom, somehow understanding exactly what I'm thinking. Eve, gazing up at me from the warm clutches of my arms, seeing me as her protector. My foster parents, the people who gave me what I thought I had lost.

My breath quickens, my throat collapsing into itself. I feel my pulse rising, a new found hysteria settling in to accompany me through the next four weeks.

I did this. I chose this.

And I have to face it.

I whisper, gazing up at the overcast sky above.
"Mum, Dad, Echo? I'll be with you soon."
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"Stell? You okay?"
Jacob props his cheek up with his hand and looks at me worriedly. A tear runs down my cheek and he reaches a warm hand out to wipe it away.

His lips meet mine and I kiss back. How many more of these do I have? I pull away, sobbing.
"I'm scared Jacob!" How was Echo so strong?" How could she face it, knowing she would.... die!"
Jacob smiles sadly, cradling my face in the palm of his hand.

"She knew, that someday, we would be together again, that it wouldn't hurt anymore."

"I love you so much." I smile, accepting my fate.

So far, I haven't felt much pain, being so pumped full of medication. The doctors say that eventually that won't work, that it will only protect me so much.

They say that I'll become fatigued, so sick that I wouldn't be able to function. Chris tries to cheer me up by saying that I'll still have my hair.

I know deep down that this is the way to go, that if I went through chemo again, it would be in vain, just keeping me alive, in worse pain, for longer.

This is how I'm going to end.

"Stella, I love you."
His eyes seem to reflect the light, the gold flecks shimmering.

"I'm going to miss you so much, but I'll still love you. Always. It won't hurt anymore, and some day, we'll be together again."

He kisses me again, and our worries melt away, time seeming to stretch as we touch. I love him, I really do.

————————————————
The pain in my head is back, now spread throughout my body.

Bruises from the slightest touch cover my body, a symptom of leukaemia. My stomach aches, and lurches as my head feels as if it's exploding.

I stand quickly, causing the floor to rock beneath my feet, and bolt to the ensuite bathroom. I throw up, my eyes blurry with pain.
They only focus when I wipe my mouth and see the dark red on the cloth.
Pain overrides my conscious state as I black out, over taken by shadows.