33.just a story

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song choice | please be naked - the 1975
(it's not dirty)

I knew that when I woke up to the feel of a mask over my face, Ethan would be nearby, worrying. So I wait to gain full consciousness before I open my eyes. When I do, I see that Ethan is asleep in the chair that sits in the corner, below the tv.

My heart drops at the mere sight of him. His dark brown curls look unkept. Big red circles linger around his eyes. I've seen him like this before, and I hated every moment of it. I want to make him smile, hear his laugh, watch his eyes light up with joy. But what I don't want is to have to face reality. I know I probably only have a few days left.

I wish I could take everything back. Though I have never loved someone like I love Ethan, it pains me to think that it's my fault he's going to hurt, my fault he's going to slip into a dark place similar to mine. I don't like to think of what's going to happen, so I don't. I push everything aside. I sit up and press the button beside my bed, knowing that I could never ask Ethan to explain what happened.

I stare into the wall for a moment, trying to remember what happened after Ethan gave me the ring. Everything hazed into a blurry of haunting images. Needles, blood, machines, tears.

The nurse walks into the room quietly, breaking my train of thought. Her eyes widen when she sees me, as if she didn't think it was me that rung her up. She walks over to the side of my bed and I take off my mask. I take a wheezing breathe and let out a small cough.

"Why am I here?" I croak, my voice raspy. I prepare myself. I think of the worst thing I could hear, and the best, and I ready myself to hear either one. The nurse stands up straight and takes a deep breathe.

"In short terms, a tumor like infection formed on your lung, like your tumor had before. This infection burst and, well, we can't stop the fluid that is draining from it. We have you on medication to slow the process, but it will only last for a number of days before we won't be able to control it." I look at her blankly for a moment, my lips slightly parted. Then I look to Ethan, the boy who received this news before I did. The boy who deserved better.

"So how many day until the medication won't work anymore?" I ask, looking back to her again.

"By the end of this week, the medication will no longer be at any use to you." She nods, her eyes soft and sympathetic. I don't quite take in what's happening and desperately try not to. I do the only thing I know how to in these situations and push everything back to the dark pit in the back of my mind, for that pit is only explored in the depths of the night.

"What if I go home? How long will I have then?" I ask.

"We could give you an excess amount of antibiotics, but for the most part, these machines are what is keeping you alive." Her sympathetic face starts to wear on me, the way she furrows her brow makes me want to yell for her to stop.

"You didn't answer my question, how long?" I ask.

"Victoria I am unsure." She responds, I can tell she knows, she just doesn't want to tell me. Do I come off as that fragile?

"I want to go home." I demand. I feel a pot of emotions starting to boil in my chest. I know for a fact that I will not die in this hospital, not after everything that has happened in this dull building.

"Okay, I will talk to your doctor and get things filed out." She says, dismissing herself with a suppressed smile. When she leaves I'm left to gaze upon Ethan's tired face. As if he felt he was being watched, Ethan runs his hand up and down his face, letting out a yawn. His eyes slowly open, but when they find their way to my face his eyes widen immediately, just as the nurse's did.

"You're awake." He says, a ghost of a long gone smile crossing is lips.

"Yep, I'm awake." I nod, giving him a small smile, the slight curl of my lips saying that I'm okay. He swallows hard and drops his gaze to his feet. I watch as he chokes up on his words, his eyes twitching as he holds back tears. He swallows again then clenches down with his jaw, his face tightening.

I get a chill, my body letting off a slight tremble. I know what he's thinking. I know what he knows. But he doesn't need to receive that information, not yet. So I sit quiet, letting silence fill up the spaces that the beeps fail to. I let myself slip a bit into that dark hole when he looks up at me face with red, swollen eyes.

"I-I don't- I can't-" He stutters, tripping over his own words. "I, um." Ethan turns his head away from me. He looks out the window and cocks his jaw off to the side and shakes his head the smallest bit.

"You don't have to say anything." I assure him, trying to calm him down a bit. I want him to stop worrying and let his obvious tension go.

"But I should." He says, his voice broken up and shaking.

"Ethan, believe me when I say, there is nothing that you could possibly say that would make me think less of you." I admit truthfully.

"Fine." He takes a deep breath and his eyes meet my face. "I'm. . . scared out of my mind." He says, his body trembling as his words are delivered. With a heavy heart, I soften my gaze and let my shoulders slouch. I open up my arms and gesture for him to walk into them. He does so slowly, but without hesitation.

I press my face into the side of his head as it falls to my shoulder. I wrap my arms around his back, keeping him close to me, but my grip isn't as tight as his. His arms band around my waist and hold me so tight, I fear that a permanent mold of my body might be left in his torso once he releases me.

He holds me like this is the last embrace he will ever partake in.

As his body trembles uncontrollably, he sobs into my shoulder, his tears soaking my hospital gown and running down my back. Like a child with too many things to carry, I scramble to keep myself together. I desperately try not to let myself fall into realization because I know once I fall I'll never get back up. . . and I could never do such a thing to Ethan.

So I keep myself from sobbing as my tears roll down my cheeks, turning my dried skin turning to oceans. I tighten my grasp on him, shifting my hands farther up his back.

"You're gonna be okay." I say in a demanding voice. "This will be over soon." I continue, not really controlling what I'm saying as he mumbles into my shoulder saying 'no' and 'I don't want it to be over'. "Soon enough, this will all be a story, just a story, okay?" I let my hands clasp behind his back. "Okay?" I ask him, wanting him to tell me that he's going to be okay before I let go. But he responds with a shake of his head and a shaking breath.

"You are so much more than just a story." A moment of silence passes before he speaks again. "Stories are meant to fade, and be forgotten. . . and I could never forget about you."




🥀there was a girl, her name was victoria. . .

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