Straight and Narrow

15.

In those final moment of conciousnes her mind drifted towards Danny. She wished she hadn't made him leave, he'd never know that she loved him as much as she did. He'd never know that she was the reason she didn't give up the fight with her cancer battle. He'd never know that she didn't mean what she said to him, or that she had cried herself to sleep because she loved him but she'd never be truly his one and only, or that he was the last thing she could think about.

She felt her head hit the floor and everything went black. Her fight was over.

His phone was ringing, groggily he opened his eyes fumbling in the dark for the noisy onject. His fingers wrapped round it but in his sleep induced daze he dropped it. Swearing under his breath he swung his legs off the bed and finally managed to locate his phone on the floor.

He didn't recognise the number but no one rings you at half three in the morning just for a chat. He answered it.

"Daniel," he instantly recognised the woman talking on the other end of the phone, it was Alannah's mum. He sat there with his heart pounding as he listened to the woman break down.

"Amanda?"

"Daniel, something's happened to Alannah," his stomach dropped, "she's... she's in hospital."

The boy was speechless. How could this be happening, she was getting better. What the hysterical mother said next made the boy choke up.

"She's in a coma."

"I'm sorry," it was all he could manage, nothing he could say would make it better, nothing anyone could say would make it better.

"She's got a tumor in her brain, her cancer has returned, they don't know how long..." she paused before whispering the last line, "how long she's got left."

The young Dublin lad dropped the phone, the news made him sick to the stomach, he felt ill. Stumbling over the clothes that were strewn across his floor he made his way out onto the landing. In the semi-darkness he had to decide on which was quicker to get to, the bathroom or the kitchen. Hand covering his mouth he ran into the kitchen before throwing up into the sink. He was going to lose his best friend and the worst thing about it was the fact she thought he didn't love her. He did, he loved her more than he should. The amount he loved her was unhealthy.

His knees gave way and he slumped on the kitchen floor, totally overwhelmed with shock. The anxiety coursing through his veins made him feel strange; queasy and faint. He just wanted to tell her that he loved her.

The racket he had made had woken up his flatmate, Mark sleepily flicked on the kitchen lights, momentarily blinding the pair. Seeing his friend in a bad way he stepped forward and crouched infront of the trembling boy.

"Dan," he tried to pull the boys hands away from his face. When he succeeded he was met with a pale, tear stained face and tired bloodshot eyes. "Dan, dude what's happened?"

"Alannah's going to die," he sobbed, "she's in a coma, a fucking coma because her cancer has spread and her body can't cope so it's gone into shut down and she's going to die and she'll never know I loved her and..." he'd ran out if things to say but his friend had heard enough. Mark pulled Danny into his body and rocked him gently, as if trying to calm a wailing baby down.

"She's not, she'll be ok," he tried to soothe his best friend, but they both knew there was no conviction in his words. It was all just to make Danny feel better, but nothing could make him feel better, only she could and she was going to die. She was going to die at the age of 17.

A/N
I'm sorry, if you haven't guessed I don't like writing happy stories. I tried to write this in a different style so let me know if you enjoyed it.
Love M x