Interlinked

Chapter 22

A/N: I'm not sure about this chapter, but I tried .. Anyways! If you find any mistakes please tell me. These letters got me dizzy and such shit.

Chapter 22:

    Breathing… It could kill you sometimes, even when you respire and live, it could and might kill you.. because when you breathe with a broken heart it actually hurts badly to the bone.

   Imagine a life in vivid colors, and those colors are drawn by a painter who’s known as a God of his masterpiece, a masterpiece of Utopia; wouldn't that be great? Great to see, to imagine and to touch? Now picture this man, in his mid-twenties, with a face that allows you to sin just by staring at it for too long, and imagine how his hand swifts carefully, as he holds his brush and places it on the canvas and leaves his mark in his own world.

Just think of how his smile would extent from one side to the other, and how peaceful he feels when he notes that his work is nearly done … Just do that for a second, and then stop when you notice his picture suddenly disappearing from his sight, taking away all of his dreams and hopes that he once placed in one big canvas roll. And it’s just dead and gone, with the knowledge that the tears will never bring this beautiful portrait back to life.

  “They just said that the tumor was shown in the CT scan when I had the accident, but the doctor never told mom to check it again.” I chew the inside of my cheek as I explain to Laura of the whys and hows she’s been haunting me with, the minute she walked into my bedroom.

  “And when do you …” Laura stutters, trying her best to avoid eye contact with and instead fix her gaze on her black painted nails. “When do you start therapy?” She closes her eyes and purses her lips together as she fights the tears from rolling down her face.

  “Two weeks from now,” I whisper, and then force a smile on my face. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” I try to assure her, and rest my hand on hers before she holds it tight.

“Why is it in two weeks?” She panics, widening her eyes. “Why not start tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, they mentioned something about wanting to adjust to the situation and try to rearrange my schedule, add to that they need to talk to the insurance company and stuff like that…” I ramble, and I notice how her eyes soften immediately.  

“Did they say how bad it is?” She asks and I shake my head no.

“No, but they assured me that it’s not quite dangerous.” I reply and hope that what they've been telling me was true.

“And will you … like lose your hair?” She bites her lip anxiously, and fidgets with her nails as she averts her eyes from looking at me.

  I take in a deep breath, and just swallow the lump in my throat at the thought of losing my hair after therapy. I've been suggested to shave my head before undergoing Chemo so that I avoid waking up with hair resting on my pillow. I can’t find the ability to reply at her question, I don’t think I have the strength to anyways.

“I love you so much, Ray.” She whispers, and then laughs whilst wiping a tear away from her eye. “Just promise me that we’ll get this through together, okay?”

 “I promise,” I assure her, sending her a weak smile; “I love you too.”

   After another moment of silent, a knock on the door arouses, breaking the silence. “Come in!” I raise my voice in order for the person behind the door to hear me properly. “Raquel, sweetie?” Mom whispers as she sways the door a bit open.

 “We’re going to the mall in few, care to join us? Laura you can come if you want.” She smiles gently, but I shake my head instantly, not wanting to leave this bed anytime soon.