Save me

15. colour of goodbyes

"Write what you know."- Mark Twain

Song: Rainbow Connections- Sleeping at Last

"The symptoms appear to be getting worse-

"This does not necessarily mean her time will be any shortened than the original prediction, I am just worried that the stress of being at school or social gatherings and so on... is going to slow the ability of her body to be stable."

Annabelle wanted to laugh at this, but she didn't know why. Maybe it was because she could feel the welling of tears behind her own eyes and it was becoming an uncomfortably familiar feeling. Or maybe it was the churning of every anxiety and fear she had been holding back that was choking her up. 

Her life already seemed to be bedridden as if she was already dead, she hadn't attended school in a week and a half, and every moment her eyes were open she was met with the presence of her aunt, uncle and Samuel surrounding her bed weepy and regretful.

Except right now even hearing essentially this could potentially be where she was bound to the last time she took a breath, she still looked towards Samuel for some sort of reassuring glance. Instead, he nodded with eyes glued to the doctor's mouth.

Dr Charles frowned as Annabelle remained silent, it seemed he had asked her a question she hadn't realised had been asked. 

"When can I go back to school?" Annabelle finally managed to muster

The doctor almost laughed, she could see it in his silver and waspy eyes. He didn't even bother to respond other than that brief choke back of amusement. 

Annabelle stopped listening after that, she had so little hope left, it was precious...like a god threat, and she was delicately coveting it even as someone slowly strung it away from her.

She had often thought for so long that her life in Avonlea was the one thing keeping her going, the people who loved her and who she loved, the experiences she had never even gotten to have before the diagnosis. She felt so many things that were just driving her to keep going. 

How much faster could she run? How many more flowers were there to spring? How many people were there to meet? But now she was simply bound. Bound to nothing and everything.

The murmuring of everyone in the room turned to static, it reminded Annabelle of the old radio her father kept in the study, he'd tune in to certain numbers at certain times to hear a muffled man announcing words that didn't seem to connect, and if they did Annabelle certainly didn't know the meanings. 

"I'll leave you both to talk" Aunt Mary whispered before leaving the room solemnly, Annabelle looked around, noticing the room clearing, except of course for one person.

Samuel kept his eyes low.

He shuffled to the stool and kept aside her bed for Mary when she felt she needed to sit and worry as Annabelle slept. 

A heavy silence swept the room, it felt as though it had knocked the air out of both of their lungs and left a hollow space, neither cousin making eye contact.

"I do not know a lot, Annabelle...I am not nearly half as smart as you nor funny or even talented. But I do know that the love you have shared with me and everyone around you will live on...because every day I feel that love and It gives me the strength to live on...."

His hands trembled slightly as his fingers entered and laced through each other, never stopping their movement. His words however seemed so smooth, they felt like water, warmly running over her body, securing her in her position. She couldn't bring herself to say another word, she felt, however, Samuel's hand finally stop to reach over to her own and hold it tightly.