What He Wrote

Chapter 12

I don't think it was possible to grow tired of spontaneous nights with Cleo. Nights full of cheap wine and tipsy laughter. Nights full of empty promises that weren't actually that empty. Nights full of good music and car trips to nowhere and beautiful, random conversations with beautiful, random people. God, how do you get tired of that? How do you get tired of truly living? Neither Cleo or I could. I suppose that's what made it all so hard. I couldn't call Cleo at precisely 2:36 in the morning to go skinny dipping in the neighbor's pool or sneak into some indie-rock concert. Cleo was sick. And it was bad.

Cleo's aunt called me that night. She said things had gotten really, really bad. I will never forget when she told me to come say good bye. I was stunned. I was with the band, and I just left. I didn't tell them why or where I was going. I didn't understand how Cleo's aunt could just give up so easily. I didn't understand how Cleo could give up so easily.

Only when I got to the hospital room did I understand.

Cleo was practically in a coma. She couldn't breath, and none of the doctors knew why. They kept saying the same thing over and over again. "The chemo didn't work the way it should have. The chemo didn't work. We don't know what to do." Over and over again. Her aunt was in tears, trying to call family who wouldn't answer. I was stunned. The chemo didn't work. The cancer had spread. Her whole, precious body was infected. The body I held and kissed and caressed was slowly killing itself from the inside out.

"My Cleo. My beautiful, eloquent Cleo." I had said as I kissed her swollen knuckles. "I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss you so much."

I remember feeling pain, and anger, and selfishness. The only person I had ever loved would be taken from me. She was in so much pain, but I wanted her to live. I was angry at the universe. Of all people to give this disease to, why her? Why someone who loved and lived as well as her?

I never really understood Cleo's views on God, but at that moment, I did. I suddenly understood her fury. He wasn't fair. No matter how you tried to spin her cancer into sounding like a lesson, it all came down to what it was. She had the meanest, most unforgiving disease there was. It wasn't a gift given to her because she was strong. It was a punishment. She lived. She really, really lived. And that life betrayed her. She was put on earth to feel pain. I felt that pain too.

My mind kept flashing to when we drove to Addie's wedding. Never in my life had I wanted to swallow the words that fell from my mouth so much. Maybe if I hadn't said them, they wouldn't have come true. Maybe.

There are times that I wonder if I had prayed a little more or had more faith in God I would be able to see her again. But that all seemed to turn to anger. She was out of my grasp, and I would never know why.

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A/n-This is not the end, I promise. First, I just wanted to thank everyone who commented and gave me feedback on this story. You guys have no idea how happy it makes me. This story is nearing one thousand reads, which is a dream come true to me.

Now it's time for the really exciting announcement: I am releasing a sister story for "What He Wrote", which is called "What She Said"! The prologue is up, and I'm sure you'll be able to figure out who's perspective it will be from. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Thanks for reading, voting, commenting, and everything in between! I love you guys!

-camille