Into Ashes

Time...

The two young men were on their way back from the hospital. Tom was driving, Bill wasn’t allowed to on the meds he’d been given for the pain. They were treating him with chemotherapy. His weight had dropped from 9st 7llb to just 7st! Tom’s lover now looked little more than a skeleton, so tiny that he could curl up in the front passenger seat of Tom’s escalade. The dark haired male stared out of the window, it was coming up to winter and the lovely Autumnal shades he loved so much as an artist were fading fast. Much like the colour in his dyed black hair, of which more and more was falling out.  But the leaves had fallen and were lying in bronze and gold clumps at the side of the road. Autumn used to be such a season of colour for him, but now all he could see was grey on the horizon. Try as he might to live in the moment (and Tom was doing his best to try and keep his spirits up) that greyness of uncertainty constantly loomed over him. He couldn’t help sometimes but let his mind wonder too far.

“Tomi I’ve been thinking,” he said eventually after too much of the journey had passed in total silence.

“Careful Billa you might hurt yourself!” Tom chuckled at his own playful, bad joke. Bills face actually cracked into a smile for the first time that morning.

“No really…I think it’s time.” He said, his smile becoming distant and fading. His expression resigned.

“Already?”  Tom almost whined.

“I want to get it totally planned before….you know, before it happens…” the smile had completely disappeared and was replaced with a grim expression. He didn’t like to talk even indirectly of his own death. It brought him down too much.

“But it probably won’t even be necessary-”

“And I don’t want to take any chances…you know me, I’ll want it perfect” he tried to make a joke out of it and failed miserably.

“O-okay babe, but we’ll talk about this later okay?”

“Yeah…sure…” Bill trailed off and returned to staring out the window, watching the naked trees fly past.

*-----* 1 month later *-----*

“Have you got everything arranged honey?” Bills mother Simone, was round their small but cosy little home to visit her son. She sat there beside him on the sofa, in the full knowledge that this could be the last time she saw him well enough to leave his bed. Cancer was ravaging his tiny body and fast. It felt wrong to know that she might soon have to watch her only child die, then bury him. A mother should never outlive her child, it was against nature! Once again, the older woman fought back tears as Tom entered the living room carrying three steaming mugs of tea on one of their ceramic dining plates in place of a tray. He set them down on the small coffee table in front of Bill and his mother and handed them out accordingly. 

“Yeah,” Bill started in a thin, raspy voice. “I want everyone who attends to wear black and red because you know they’re my favourite colours and I want to go out in style, in a stained black coffin.” He smiled. Tom could see straight through him, could see that behind his brave face, Bill was barely holding it together. He felt his heart sink; he was failing his promise to his lover. His promise to keep Bill happy was proving harder to keep than expected. Tom just found it too hard to comprehend that eventually, Bill mightn’t be there when he got home from lectures or work, or just be there to give him a hug. The idea was just too painful to linger over.

“Sounds lovely darling, you’ve given it some serious thought…thank you for the tea Tom, it’s delicious.” She said trying to change the subject.

“No problem Simone,”

“Here Tomi, come sit with me.” Bill shuffled over to allow Tom who was still standing, to sit behind him. Tom got comfortable before pulling Bill towards him and wrapping his arms around his waist. “I want to be cremated mum, Tomi helped me pick my Grave plaque-” Simone looked away from Bill at this new piece of information. She did not want her only son to see her cry; she had to be strong for him. “- all I need now is a pot for my ashes.” He finished with a forced brightness in his voice. He could see the pain in his mother’s eyes. He wished he could end her suffering, tell her that it was okay and that the treatment was working! But he couldn’t. His first round of chemo hadn’t even touched the tumour that was growing inside him…