polaroids | awsten knight

polaroid thirteen

The thirteenth polaroid was taken at a cemetery.

On Mondays, I would go to see my therapist. She checked up on me and gave me an activity to do every week to keep me numb. The long-term activity she had given me since the beginning was to write how I was feeling.

Another part of this checkup was to see the new polaroids I had taken. When I told her about how each of these pictures had a backstory, she wanted me to show her all of them. My therapist knows everything about you, I'm sorry.

On this appointment, she wanted me to show her if I had any new pictures. I hadn't got any. The last one I had taken was at the beginning of the year, and it was March at this time. I told her I didn't have any new ones and she nodded.

You and I hadn't taken many pictures. When we hung out, it got so normal that I just forgot to take them.

"Write about this." She handed me a paper with the word 'Heartbreak' written at the top in perfect cursive.

"I don't know how to do that without being cringe," I laughed, folding the paper and putting it in my pocket. "I'll try."

I got in the elevator and made my way from the fifth, all the way down to the main floor. When about to exit, I saw a familiar beanie. Otto sat there, his phone in his hands with his head down. I sat next to him, gaining him to raise his head.

He smiled weakly. "Caroline, what's up?" There was something up with him right away. Otto never was like this unless something serious was happening. He had trouble handling things by himself, which made him uneasy and nervous. His eyes couldn't focus on one thing.

"What's up, Otto?" He was basically a brother to me, so seeing him like this hurt. It had to hurt even more for him though when he saw you walking down the hall.

You had a white band around your wrist, indicating that you had been checked in. When you made eye contact with me, it was like you were already planning your escape route.

Before you could escape, I got up to ask you the same thing I asked Otto. "What's up?" Both of you were being ridiculous and it was scaring me. What was so serious that you couldn't show me?

"Just say it, Awsten. Tell her," he demanded. Tears welled up in your eyes, on the brink of falling. "If you don't then I will."

A few people had walked past and gave us looks, wondering what was going on. I knew exactly what they did; nothing.

Otto looked angry, mixed with fear. That's a terrible combo. "Tell her, Awsten."

"Fine," you snapped. "I'm sorry just... I'll tell her. Alone." You managed to calm down in a second, acting like Otto and avoiding eye contact.

Your best friend and my mutually proclaimed brother, Otto Wood, hugged you and left, putting on his headphones. Now it was just us and I wanted to know what was up.

You said that it would be better if we weren't in public when you told me, which got me so worried. The first thing to come to mind was that you were cheating. I don't know why that was the first thing when I know it's hospital related. I trust you not to cheat

Walking up to the bus stop, a fifteen-minute walk from the hospital, we were in each other's very tense presence. I could only assume the worst, but apparently, I never thought bad enough for what you were going to say.

"I wish I told you this earlier- only my family and Otto know. He found out accidentally, so I didn't want him to know." The way you spoke made it sound like what you were leading up to was so bad that no one should have ever found out; that you shouldn't even be telling me.

You continued, "Caroline, I have cancer."

"You don't."

"I'm sorry I meant to-"

I stopped in my tracks. You would have laughed if it was a joke. You weren't laughing. You have cancer.

For some reason I got upset. I shouldn't have gotten upset at you. "For how long?! And you were planning on dying and not saying a single thing to me until I found out about your death? Are you even going to die?! Fuck you, Awsten! I could've gone this entire time not knowing my boyfriend might die!"

I understood why Otto was so fearful about me knowing. I can't handle some things, and this is it. When we were kids, I told Otto that if he ever left me I'd probably cry until I was a grandma. That must have stuck with him, since he knew that ever since we were kids, never to separate from me.

I broke down. I lost it. You pulled me into your shirt, allowing me to drown it in my tears. It took time again for me to process. One day I'll lose you and most of this won't matter aside from the memories. That was my mindset.

"No, fuck you!" I pushed you away from me. "I'm going home. Don't text me, don't call me, and especially don't show up at my house!" I stormed off, regretting it as soon as I left you.

When I got home, my mom confronted me at the door. "Oh, honey. Otto told us about Awsten." I ignored her and ran to my room. Why didn't you just tell me when you found out?

Being in my house was too much. Everything around me reminded me of you. I grabbed my backpack, filled it with my bottled water, a notebook, and my camera, and left the house. There wasn't a destination but I was going to find one.

I took my bike by the side of the house and put my bag in the basket at the front. Anywhere would be better than this place. The wheels rolled across the road, feeling both smooth and rough.

Turning right, I drove straight into the cemetery. There was no one but me there; it felt haunted. I rode past tombstones, reading the names as I went by. Maybe yours would be here when you go. I shouldn't dream of that, I really don't want you to go.

I stopped briefly to take a picture of a really nice statue. It was a part of someone's tombstone. I shoved my camera right back into my bag with the picture and kept riding down the empty cemetery.

I dropped my bike by a nearby tree. When I sat down, I checked my phone and saw multiple missed calls from you. I know I told you not to call, but seeing your name on my phone turned me to jelly.

Inside my pocket was the paper my therapist gave me. Heartbreak. Sure, I can do that now.  Taking the notebook out of my bag, I thought of what happened just a few hours ago. That could be my fuel for this writing piece.

It took a while for me to finish, and when I did, I had to read it all back. Maybe I acted too hasty. I know how hard telling someone about an important topic is, so I shouldn't have lashed out. When I found out my mistake, I got on my bike and set a mental route to your house.

The familiar roads brought me to your driveway. I dropped my bike down at your door and knocked the door like crazy. It was about five in the afternoon and I knew that you guys would be having dinner by now.

You came to the door, a loose grey shirt hanging off of your shoulders. If it wasn't for your tired eyes, I would have noticed your red eyes right away. How long have you been crying?

"I'm sorry," I forced out. It hurt to see you like that, and it hurt, even more, to know that I was the one behind it. "Can we forget about what happened? I want to be there for you."

You took a step out of the house and hugged me. You were cold. When my body touched yours, I felt a spike run through my spine. It was nice to be near you again and get the same feeling I did every time I was with you.

"I'm sorry it took me so long." You didn't have to apologize. You could have told me at any time and I still would have acted out the same.

You brought me in for dinner, and it was just you and Gracie sitting at the table. I asked where your parents were and you told me. They went out to get more information on the kind of cancer you have. The kind you had was Leukemia; cancer in your blood and bone marrow.

I sat with you and Gracie and you let me have as many slices as pizza as I wanted. That was your parents' way of feeling sad for you. They let you buy pizza went you felt like it and with their money. You said that if I ever was feeling hungry I could come over and have pizza with you.

That night I kissed you on the cheek and said sorry once again. We were back to where we were before.