Merinda:
The next morning was the worst one of all the previous mornings. It wasn’t that hard to guess, I guess, considering I’ve always been one to cherish life more than I cherish my hair.
Ever since I woke up, it’s as though the only place my body craved to be at, was the toilet. I even ate my breakfast there, due to the fact that whatever edible stuff had entered into my body would leave after five tiring, agonizing, excruciating minutes.
But this is my fate. I don’t have choice, even if I would love to have one.
Alli was still in bed because she kind of had too much fun (in a clean way) on webcam with Jake last night, and Tom was watching SpongeBob in his own bunk while Matt? Oh, he was too busy playing on his phone after crashing on it for like, three hours straight in the morning.
And Cody?
I didn’t expect Cody to care, because I think he didn’t even notice me running into the toilet, which was a good thing considering what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him (and me, earlier) it wouldn’t be able to make his suspicion greater.
You’d think I would die for him to know, and to do something about it, and to heal me in some way because he loves me, right?
No, you’re wrong.
I don’t want him to know because I know he’d hurt more than me. I don’t want him to know because I know he would hate me for doing something so wrong―hiding the deepest secret that has been, and still is spreading within me, from him.
I don’t want to see him hurt while I’m still here.
Let’s face it, okay? When I’m gone, he’ll learn about it, and he would be sad about it. But I’ll be gone then. My presence now would mean nothing at that time because I wouldn’t be hanging around anymore. I won’t mean anything to anyone anymore, which makes it easier for everyone to forget about me and stop hurting in a short period of time.
Maybe that’s the easiest way out for me.
Maybe that’s the hardest way out for everyone else.
But what is there to be done when cancer is incurable? And even, sometimes, durable? Nothing. Especially if the one who’s suffering from it doesn’t want to fight it. I don’t want to fight cancer, because it’s not worth doing so. I’m afraid of what the outcome might be. I’m afraid that it would all be a waste if I fought it and passed on either way.
I don’t want that. I really don’t.
Some people would say that, oh, maybe I would die a better death knowing I had bothered to stand up to cancer, but what they don’t know and probably wouldn’t ever know about me, is that I don’t belong to that kind of people.
I’d rather allow something to do me bad than stop it because it’s unstoppable and I don’t want to leave the world knowing it was meaningless and useless of me to even try.
And even if I were to do it, I’d like to do it alone. I don’t want others to fight with me and sadden themselves more than they already are. Because if it’s unsuccessful, and I really go, I can’t imagine the feeling they’ll have to go through.
It would be insufferable.
Feeling my heart wrenching, squeezing, wringing, twisting, aching, I gave my head a shake as an attempt of shaking them all of as the churning feeling inside my stomach returned for a visit, making me bend over the toilet bowl, ready to puke my guts out once again.
I hated this, I really did. And I still do, for the fact. It sucks to no extent, because it’s inconvenient, sudden, exhausting, painful, disgusting. Having to puke like I’m twenty-five and pregnant when I’m just sixteen is just saddening, you know? And to know that I have a choice to stop it, yet would rather throw myself into the depths and path along the way to death is just stupid.
I mean, right? Agree? I don’t have a choice to stop fate, but I have a choice to stop suffering this as my life goes on, but yet I’d rather not stop it.
Sometimes I really don’t know what I’m thinking about. Like I’m mentally disabled or something. Ha.
Flushing the toilet, I pulled out a piece of tissue from the Kleenex box before dapping my mouth lightly with it. I leaned against the bathtub for support and rested for a while, like how I do after each time I vomit.
Truth be told, I’m disgusted with myself. I don’t know how Cody doesn’t feel that way about me; maybe it’s because he hadn’t seen me puke before.
Well, I don’t intend to show him anyway.
Just as I heaved a sigh, the toilet door flew open, and the only face I see… was Cody’s. He looked like he hadn’t slept for over weeks with his eyes bloodshot and dark bags under his eyes; he looked horrible. But behind all that, he looked weak, and vulnerable, and adorable, but it still killed me.
What the hell happened to my baby?
To say I was shocked, would be an understatement considering all I could do from how my mind is registering everything about the happening, was stare at him with my mouth pulled into a tight line and my eyes forced open very widely.
I didn’t know what to say. Hell, I couldn’t either. What was he doing here? Why was he looking like that? What happened? What’s going on? All of these questions wouldn’t leave my head no matter how hard I tried to shrug them all off. They were etched to my brain, wow.
Ignoring the fact that my legs felt as wobbly as jelly, I pulled myself together and mustered just sufficient energy to force myself up into a standing position. I couldn’t stand how Cody looked, it was paining my heart. I’ve never seen him in such a state before, really never. I don’t know what the world could’ve done this to him.
That person-slash-news-slash-whatever would be a monster.
“What happened?” I managed to croak out after clearing my phlegm-filled throat. I wanted to go near him and kiss him and give him a hug and tell him everything’s fine, but I was afraid he would push me away because he didn’t want me anywhere near him.
And I couldn’t kiss him because my mouth was reeking with stupid puke.
His empty grey eyes flashed with worry all of a sudden, as his fallen arms rose up and wrapped themselves around my waist. A confused me was pulled closer to him. It wasn’t a hugging kind of close, but it was just… close. Like a dancing kind of close. He was confusing me.
But nonetheless, I couldn’t help remembering how much I had missed his gentle touch on my skin. Three days felt like months, and I’m not even exaggerating. I haven’t felt the tingles in forever, but not they’re returning, making me feel slightly happier. More importantly though, I missed him. “What happened, Cody?” I asked again, pushing him for an answer.
He just can’t remain silent forever it was literally killing me. I’ve always hated seeing him like that, he looked like he had been crying. I thought he wasn’t going to respond me in any way at all, but I was wrong. He began shaking his head, and the longer I looked into his eyes, the more watery it became. I blinked.
“Cody,” I said, beginning to grow very self-conscious because of the smell of my breath. I pulled him closer and rested my chin on his shoulder, as he rested his on mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he finally answered, shaking his head. I didn’t believe him though, it wasn’t convincing. I slid my fingers up into his hair and tangled them in it, as I rubbed his back soothingly with the other hand. I need to know what happened though. “I’m just tired of everything.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
“Cody, what are you―”
“Merinda, why didn’t you tell me?”
He sounded broken―I was confused. Deep down, my heart understood everything, but up in my head, I didn’t understand anything that was happening at all. What was he talking about? What didn’t I tell him? “Cody, why didn’t I tell you, what?”
Right after those words left my mouth, regret filled my heart as realization gave me a slap as a reality check. My eyes began to water as my heart started pounding hardly against my chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had cancer?”
I remained silent as my cries turned into sobs. Silent sobs. I was alarmed and afraid and sad and speechless. Cody found out my deepest secret. I don’t know how he did so, but he found out. And to be honest, as sad as I already was, I knew it wasn’t just it. It was the feeling that was hiding in my chest all these while―it was the guilt that was eating me alive.
“Why, Merinda?” He asked, using my full name in his statement again. I squeezed the tears out of my eyes as my eyelids flew shut. I knew this would be the consequence when he found out about it. I don’t know what in the world I should do with myself now.
I did this to him.
I am the monster.
“Why would you do that to me?” He asked again, this time, his voice cracking at the last word. The amount of tears that had already left my eyes couldn’t compare to his, and I knew it very well. I shook my head to let him know I didn’t mean to harm him that way, but he still went on. He loosened his grip around me. “I thought I was your boyfriend…”
“You are!” I swallowed a sob, tightening my arms around him. “I didn’t want to hurt you! I was thinking about you! I did this because of you, Cody, I don’t want to see you hurting while I’m still around―”
He chuckled coldly. You would expect me to throw a fit because of how he’s behaving towards me, and even though I didn’t see this side of him appearing, you’re wrong again. I wouldn’t do that over anything in the world, because I deserved everything that was happening now.
He didn’t deserve my bullshit. He knew it. I knew it. We knew it.
“You sure you were thinking about me? Because it seemed like otherwise.”
His words stung. They really did. Although I wasn’t expecting this attitude from him, I was expecting the understanding side of him. Ha, maybe I shouldn’t even expect, because maybe I don’t even have the right to do so. I shook my head, feeling sadness overwhelming me within a second. This… It’s getting as hard as it gets. “I was thinking of you, I didn’t want to hurt you with the truth. The truth hurts so much more, Cody, you know that.”
“Yeah, but think about all of the lies you’ve told me,” he shook his head next to mine, letting his hands, now, to fall down his sides. I was the only one hugging him now. I didn’t bother pulling him close anymore, I just stayed still. “Do you think they were worth covering the truth?”
“Anything’s worth as long as it prevents you from hurting earlier,” I quickly said, hoping that this would get to a point where he would forgive me and I swear I’ll tell him anything and everything in the future.
But I guess, happy endings are only for fairytales.
Happy endings don’t happen to monsters, do they?
No, they don’t.
“Remember when I said I hated liars?” He brokenly said through gritted teeth, forcing more tears out of my eyes as he tore me away from his body. I saw this coming. I’d just only focused on the better instead, I caused this. I deserved this. I didn’t deserve someone like him, he deserved better.
After everything, positivity no longer has an existence to me, and I could probably never hope for the best ever again, because nothing good ever happens to me. Goodness has never happened to me.
And all that was going on, what was happening to me, was what I had truly deserved.
“I still do.”
I looked at my shoes as the tears blurred my vision out more, and watched his shoes, at the corners of my eyes, move further away―the sound of his footsteps growing distinct by the second, him leaving me.
Maybe he was right. No, scratch that, he is right. I hadn’t been thinking about him, or anyone else, but me. I said I was thinking about his feelings, but that’s just my thought. It wasn’t what I knew. All that I was being was nothing but a liar.
Merinda was a huge liar, a conceited liar who pushed everyone away in fear that eventually they would leave her.
And now her only fear has come true, and she’s left all alone.
The most important person in her life has left her, and left her for good.
And she really doesn’t know what to do with her life anymore.
She’d seen this coming… But she didn’t see it end this way.
Now she did though, it woke her up completely.