cigarette daydreams || h.s.

chapter two: roses

I woke up with a terrible feeling of nausea. I literally felt like it was filling my whole body. The first thing I had to do was grab a trash can near my bed. The course of intensive chemotherapy began two weeks ago.

Judging by the sound of rustling from the side, Harry woke up from the unpleasant sounds that I made.

"Hey, are you okay there?" He asked through the curtain.

"Yes," I answered, all in tears.

''Maybe you need help?''

''No, I said that everything is fine!'' I said sharply, turning to high tones.

My words didn't stop him. He slowly got out of bed and looked out to see if I was alive.

"No, let me help you'' He came over and took my hair while I seemed to lose the organs.

"Harry, you crossed the line," I said with a laugh, but there was no answer.

"You ..." He stopped speaking in the middle of the sentence and released his hand. I suspected something was amiss, so I turned to look at him. In his hands was a clump of hair, my hair. I tried to pretend that everything was fine, but everything was not fine. ''I'm sorry.''

''It's all right, Harry." My eyes were filled with desperation. "Thank you for your help." I smiled at him.

«Not at all,» he said and went to his bed after these words.

I finally wiped everything off my face five minutes after the incident and decided to continue sleeping, but I did not succeed. I lay until the time came for visiting, not thinking about anything.

There was a knock at the door, after which Matt came. I was extremely surprised by his visit, but at the same time, I absolutely did not want to see him now. He walked to my bed, throwing a disapproving look at Harry.

"Hello," I got out of bed to embrace him, but he was faster and then he kissed me gently on the cheek, giving me a bouquet of my favorite red roses.

"You forgot," a wave of sadness spread over me. "You forgot that I told you about bouquets. I asked you not to spend money on flowers because it will still wither.

"I'm sorry, I really forgot, but I wanted to make you feel good so much.''

"Thank you, Matt, but it was not worth it." We have been discussing my condition for a long time, chemotherapy, and everything I did not want to discuss at the moment.

After he left, I felt somehow easier. I just did not feel any pressure.

"Do not be so tense," Harry said, pulling the curtain away.

''I'm not tense.''

''You are, I can see."

"Well, if it infuriates you, then I'll go out." I got out of bed and headed for the exit.

"I did not mean that," he shouted to me as I slammed the door.

Now I just wanted one thing. Chocolate bar. It was just a few cents in my pocket, so I kept my direction toward the machine that Harry was hitting one day.

Having achieved my goal, I sat on a chair next to the machine and began slowly to eat my desired bar and started observing people around me.

At the end of the corridor, there was a woman with a girl. The girl did not have hair. It seems to be me in nearest future. She cried and tried to put on a wig with long black hair. I would not want to wear a wig, to be honest. Why should we hide what makes us ourselves and shows our story? The bar ran out and I went back to the room. I was extremely surprised not to find anyone in it. But a sheet of paper on my bed surprised me more.

In the center was painted a rose, a red rose, and behind it was the inscription:

"Do not worry, this rose will never wither" - Harry xx