Love, Drugs and Cancer

Chapter 13: Dying

Death can't come fast enough.

Six more days have passed. I'm expecting to die any day now. I can't get out of bed. Ever. I find that all of my waking hours are hours spent in pain and weakness. Each breath I take is difficult. I wish that I could just stop breathing. Stop all of the effort and fade away into the blackness forever. But I have not been so lucky.

Cole never did call me back. I didn't really expect him to. So now I have come to the conclusion that we are over. The conclusion doesn't really sadden me anymore than I already was. It's as if the break up had been in the back of my mind for so long and now that it had come to the light, nothing was really different.

My parents do come up to my room while I'm awake, having small conversation. Telling me that they love me. Telling me that I mean the world to them. Things that just make them cry. I don't really say much back. Talking takes extra oxygen and right now, oxygen is something that I don't have much of. I usually just smile back at them, or nod in agreement. 

I don't eat much anymore, either. It takes too much energy. I drink water because I'm thirsty, even though sometimes I think about just not drinking it. Wouldn't the end come faster if I didn't drink the water? But then to me, that seems to be a more unpleasant death than the one that I'm experiencing right now.  Plus I eventually end up cracking anyways because it's kind of unpleasant to be so thirsty that your tongue is dry. 

I'm starting to think that tonight is the night. I keep accidental falling asleep out of no where. Usually, I just go to sleep when I'm tired. But it's as if the tired part really isn't hitting me. I'm just falling asleep. I feel a sort of darkness lying over me. In my heart I know that tonight is the night.

If I had to guess, I would say that it is one o clock in the morning, not an ideal time to go wake up my parents. I'm sure they wouldn't mind, but I decide on a different alternative. I sit up, which seems to take me about five minutes. Then I get out of bed. Another five minutes. I'm sure it's not actually five minutes, but that's what it feels like. I head downstairs and find a sticky note. On the sticky note, I write, "I love you," and stick it to the fridge. My handwriting is a little messier than usual, but I think that my point gets across. 

I head back upstairs, which takes ten minutes. This time, I know that it actually did take minutes and my mind wasn't just slowing everything down. I laid in my bed, thinking of Cole. I'm thinking of the roses that he brought me in the hospital. One rose each and every day. I smile and decide that the image of the flowers is the last thing I want to remember. So I close my eyes, knowing that if I fall asleep, there is no way that I'm going to wake up. It doesn't take me long for me to fall asleep.

Just before I fade into the blackness, I whisper, "I love you," and welcome Death with open arms, as if we're old friends that are being reunited. 

                                                                                          ***

When I wake, all I see is whiteness. Just pure whiteness. Not a single item. Not a single wall. Just an endless stretch of whiteness. I hope that this isn't what life after death is like, because thus far it seems like a sort of lonely existence. But then details start coming into a view. A lamp. A bed side table. A hand that is not my own. Then I realize that I am in my own room. I know that it's not my usual old room, though. I am no longer alive. I know this because the hand is Cole's.

"Cole," I whisper. It's so nice to see Cole's face again. 

"Sammy," Cole whispered back to me, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. "I missed you so much." 

"Is this what life after death is like?" I ask him, sitting up in my bed. I still seem to be a little week, but there's a new energy in me. Hopefully the fatigue goes away soon.