Wednesday Afternoons

Chapter Three

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I wake up to my alarm, and the clock displayed 7.45

"Shit" I utter to myself in complete panic. Naomi had gone at this point. I can't believe that she didn't decide to wake me, that's supposed to be the benefit do having a twin sister.

I eventually got to sleep at 2.39 last night, I ended up on twitter and my last tweet was at 2.39 and I remember nothing from then, making me suspect that was when I fell asleep. I had alarms set from 6.30 onwards for every 10 minutes till 7, that's when it goes to every 5 minutes. I'm one of those people that can't wake up in any situation. I remember I was on a school trip and the fire alarm went off 3 times and if Tiffany hadn't been there I would have missed them all. Luckily they were just drills.

I jump out of bed, and up the few stairs to the closet on my left. My luck, the doors are locked and the key is no where in site.

"NAAAOOOMIIIIIII"

Literally everyone, but Naomi, rushes to my room.

"What, what is it, hospital or hug situation?"

My mum asks with my Dad, Callum, my sisters Cassidy and Maisy and Callum's best friend, almost like my brother, Jake, in the doorway.

"Strangle situation."

I reply whilst leaning to see through the door to find Naomi.

"Oh wait, never mind" I end up saying as I find the keys on the floor by the closet door when I look back. Everyone ended up leaving and I went to get ready. I looked at the clock on the wall, 7.50. I was panicking, my bus comes at 8 and it takes ten minutes just to walk to the bus stop. It would take me 15 minutes to change, 2 minutes to brush my teeth, 10 minutes to do my hair on a good day so let's say 20 and another 20 to do my makeup. I didn't have nearly an hour though. Panic attack. I continued to get ready as quick as I could. So I unlocked the door to the closet as quick as I could, I'm really bad with locks though. Then it occurred to me that if it was almost 8 then my dad would have set off to work about an hour ago. It wasn't 8, it must have been 7. Makes sense, I bought a new clock and forgot to change it from French time (the clock was ordered from France) to English time. Now I'm going to seem like an idiot to everyone.

The door opened to the closet and I took my regular almost hour to get ready. I think that is what makes me most like a teenage girl. Me without makeup isn't a site that the world should see and my hair is very hard to tame. It might be a messy bun but the amount of attempts to get it right is ridiculous. I get my pink swing top with the beaded straps and wear it with my ripped white hollister jeans.

So I put on my watch that I leave on my bedside. It's the most beautiful Michael Kors watch that Jason bought for me. I wear it everyday as it's one of the only things I have left of him. There is a picture in one of the photo frames on the wall in my room and I have over 1,000 on my phone but it's not the same as having something that he touched. He bought me the watch when he was told he had the maximum of 3 months left. He was scared of the inevitable, not for himself, but for everyone else. He knew his mark was made and the amount of time it would take to remove his mark wasn't given to him. Multiple myeloma is capable of dreadful things. He didn't realise that the watch cost so much, I was with him in Manchester centre. His cancer caused a lot of confusion so until I told him that it was £295 not £29.50 which made me feel guilty. I started to cry a bit when he said,

"Oh well, you're worth it. Not like I have time to spend my money on anything else" He was struggling to walk at this point because his bones had become weak and he lost his breath so easily. I pushed him round in a wheelchair and he would go home on a night and cry and I would cry with him. He felt he had lost all his dignity, all he ever worked for to try and look and act his best had gone. I would cry because I felt that this was becoming the end and I couldn't face that at all. He was so beautiful when I met him. His dirty blonde hair that was so messy that it seemed neat started to fall out due to treatment. He ended up shaving his head because it looked stupid he said and ended up wearing a beanie all the time as he was ashamed. Ultimately it wasn't the treatment that didn't work or his weakened body that stopped working that killed him but a coma that he never escaped. It didn't hurt him when he died but the pain he had before was passed to everyone else he knew when alive. His mum warned me that he was sick and at my age I shouldn't have to go through all of this, nobody should. I did go through it though and I don't regret anything at all. So I wear the beautiful pink gold watch that he bought me and, as I always do, kiss the engraving on the back before I put it on that reads,