"Elena, say something"
"What the fuck am I supposed to say, about an hour ago, we were just talking whether to have sex with your resident or not, I would love to go back to that topic"
"An hour, really?"
"Don't be fucking sarcastic with me right now Bradley, not a fucking good time" Oh my god, I can't fucking think straight, I'm just looking at him and this guy? This healthy looking guy is dying?
"Can you say something about me dying now?"
"Okay Bradley, I am going to give you one last time to say that you're joking" Please joke, I can't help it, I'm getting teary right now. Please joke so I can throw a really hot coffee in your face. Please, why is it taking you so long to talk?
"I'm sorry" No no no no no no God no
"John! Close down the shop after the customers leave. You, let's go upstairs." As soon as I stood up, my legs lost strength, glad Brad caught me just in time. He guided me upstairs when I should be guiding him since he's the one dy- oh fuck. Silence followed even when we went up.
"So fucking explain things properly. Lay it down slow. Stop dropping bombs and I sure fucking hope that's the last. You can't possibly make it any worse than this. What the fuck did you mean when you said you are dying?"
"It's exactly what I mean, it's CJD, it belongs to a group of brain disorders called the prion diseases, my brain is infected and after a long time it will gradually look like a -"
"High School graduate English, Brad, talk like a High School graduate so I can at least focus on my crying than working my brain to understand what you just said"
"It's fatal, incurable, and deadly. As well as fast, I have less than 6 months and I only have 10% chance of living"
"Scientifically saying or Bradley saying"
"Both" Oh shit! He can't even be so smug about it. This fucking sucks!
I can't. I can't even listen anymore. I sat on my bed for a second and laid down, rolled, face flat. My face is full of tears and snot, I can't look at him. I stayed like that for about five minutes agonizing about the fact that I may not see Brad next year. This day was supposed to be the day that I see Brad and talked to him like I did every Sunday for about 8 years. I cried my eyes out but also noticed about how it's so quiet. I turned around and saw looking at me, just staring, he doesn't look like someone who knows he's dying.
"How are you not sad about this? How are you not crying like me? How can you not fucking look like shit right now?"
"I did look like you a month ago, when I found out about it. Only difference was that I still looked sexy and hot while crying. I also didn't have snot on my face"
"A month ago? You found out a month ago and didn't tell me about it? Why only now? You faced me for three meetings like nothing ever happened?"
"I know, I'm sorry I lied. I just thought I had to be honestly sane before I tell you, that way, I can comfort you. If I told you a month ago, then we would both be face flat in your bed right now covered in tears and you, snot"
"I want to sleep this off" I can't think straight with my vision blurred from the tears, and I can barely say anything straight and with actual sense
"Then let's sleep"
"But I can't, I don't know why" Why can't I feel sleepy? I want to sleep
YOU ARE READING
Z: Being a FRIEND
General Fiction"I don't know what I am, I don't know how I existed, I don't know why I've been flying around the skies for as long as I can remember. I barely know anything. Then something changed, something that made me get into the lives of people, and but I hav...
