Chapter Eighteen

858 9 3
                                    

When I was a little girl, I truly, truly believed that there was a monster in my closet.

In the dead of the night, when only the street lamp pooled light through the base of my curtains, the door would bang against it's frame. I was so certain that it was the monster, banging desperatley to break free.

As a child, I was always referred to as the "brave one". I was always the one to kill the ugly black spider on the wall, to ride on the biggest rollercoaster at the theme park, the first one to jump off the tall ledge and to walk alone into a dark room. I was the only one to knock on the doors of the creepy house at 7 Bapyeild St, the one who would walk into forbidden territory...

The only one who would walk down the hallways with a smile on her face at not give a damn who watched.

My friends told me that this was the reason Jeremy loved me so much. I knew better. Because me? Courageous? More like outrageous!

Courage wasnt about having no fear. Is was about having a fear, and having the courage to face it.

No, I am not the courageous one.

I am the fearless one.

"Please take a seat on one of the chairs, Mr. Bostin will be with you in a moment," said the plain lady behind the bank teller.

As we walked away towards the chairs, I felt Jared's hand squeeze mine. I squeezed his back. I had asked him to come along, beause I could not bear to do this alone.

"Miss Field? Mr. Bostin will see you now," chimed the lady.

"Are you ready?" Jeremy asked me. Of course I was ready. I'd been ready for a month, now. And when you only had six months left to live, a month was a long time to wait.

We walked into the stuffy, grey office of Mr. Bostin. Behind the desk sat a thin man with very lanky hands. He was balding in the way that a mop might bald. His strands were long, but fine. His arms and legs were boney, and his nose was the most prominent feature of his face, being the only thing that was abnormally large. Above this, he sported a pair of incredibly dull, grey eyes.

 "Miss Field, how can I help you today?" he asked in an uninterested way

"I am here to write my last will and testomant," I stated. Honestly, the look in his eyes turned from bored to suprised.

"Will all do respect Miss Field..." he started,

"Please, call me Ruby,"

"...Ruby, then, don't you think you're a little young to be writing up a will?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. But seeing as I'm dying, I'm sure you can understand my urgency?"

"I'm sorry, I..."

"Save it. I would really like to just get this done."

"Do you have parental consent and guidance with you today?"

"Today is my eighteenth birthday. I am quite capable of making my own descions."

"Very well. So...let's get started..."

____________________________________________________________________________

"That," I said to Jeremy, the tears still wet in my eyes, "was the hardest thing i've ever had to do."

Holding me comfortingly in his arms we walked from our parked car into Jeremy's house. It was late, around 10, because we'd gone out to the sea side. He'd showed me this beach he'd found surfing with his mates. Feeling the sand between my toes and the hope in the smell that came with the waves, it was like nothing was wrong.

RubyWhere stories live. Discover now