Things Unsaid

Dead Girl Walking

Sometimes I like to think about my future. Then I remember...what future?

A few days had past, and we were finally at the resort. I spent most of the ride just faking sleep and letting my mind wander. It was a lot better than showing any signs of unhappiness as everyone else in my family happily discussed their favorite rides and which ones they wanted to ride first. We eventually got to the hotel and started to unpack the car.

"Angie, do you mind carrying an extra suitcase?" Dad asked.

"Sure."

Christine raised a brow at me. "Are you?"

"Yeah, why not?"

I could tell by her expression that she was implying about a symptom I apparently wasn't aware of, but I felt up to the job. Smiling it off, I took the suitcases.

The resort was really nice. A bit old and creepy looking, but still quite memorable. Every crevice and rip of wallpaper on the wall added a plithera of character. All the photos of earlier people enjoying the first few days of the park.

All those people are dead.

This year I finally looked at those photos in a new light. They were a lot like me. Living life, having fun, and deep down knowing that they would die one day. I guess everybody knows that, but it's even worse when you are aware of the specific little amount of time left.

Walking up the staircase with all the suitcases was really difficult. I was panting like a dog by the second floor. The elevator broke, so there was no other way.

"You holding up?"

I looked over. It was Christine. Pellets of sweat poured from my forehead as I tried to take a deeper breath and get more oxygen into my lungs. I forced out a smile as she took some of the luggage I was carrying and took it up for me. Literally, it was a perfect sister moment.

"I am now, thanks."

Sharing a smile with Christine made me know for certain that as much as I couldn't bear her dealing with my secret, it still felt right having at least one other person in the world who understood. Christine has always been the strong one out of the two of us.

We finally made it to the hotel room. There was a gorgeous view of the ocean. I smiled as the waves crashed below. It was so peaceful.

"Wow, this is beautiful. What a nice view." My mom said while staring out on the little balcony. She was right; it totally was.

Placing my suitcase down on the bed facing the window, I made my way to go to the bathroom. For a little hotel bathroom is was pretty sweet. Looking up at my reflection, I noticed a stream of blood trailing from my nose. A nose bleed. I have been nose bleed free since second grade.

From the room I heard Christine. "This mini fridge is totally adorable!"

Muffled talking from that point on was heard in the room as I continued to stuff new tissues to wipe up the blood. Was this a side effect? I had to promise myself that when vacation was over I would tell my family and go see a doctor about it. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Angie? I have your bathing suit here, we're planning on going by the ocean for a bit."

The ocean and bloody noses never mix. Oh dear sharks. Nasty way to go. But nonetheless I opened the door, smiled, and quickly took my favorite bikini to change into. Perhaps I could just tan on the sand. I quickly changed, threw out the used tissue, and opened the door.

A surging rush of the rest of my family basically went all ape to figure out who was to take the bathroom next. Christine just got up and went. Problem solved. I sat down on the bed and stared out the window. After a quick check, the blood had stopped. At least for now.

"Is everything alright? You seem distant lately."

"Yeah, I'm fine." lie. "Just tired a lot. I must be growing again." partially true, but still a lie. Truth is, as much as I hated every second of lying to my family, it actually appeared to be getting easier. Still, my web of lies was just sinking me deeper and deeper into the hole of self destruction, even if it was for their best good.

Making some quality hotel coffee, I realized that there were no mugs in the room so I just poured the coffee into one of the glasses. Good enough. The coffee was okay, but it seemed tasteless. That disappointed me. Coffee was the best taste ever. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't the cancer causing the lack of taste, and it was just bad coffee, but my gut knew.

It was shortly after that we headed down to the beach, and I had finally forgotten all of my worries.