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“I have a bag of pills in the bathroom. Can one of you please grab it for me along with a glass of water?” I ask wearily.
All three of them leap to go get it, and my lower lip starts trembling at the sight. Even though they’re obviously furious with me, they still would do anything for me.
I don’t deserve that kind of devotion, but it fills me up inside. If I’d had the chance to live, it probably would have filled up all the holes inside of me that developed after the death of my dad and after I left.
I wonder what it would feel like to be a whole person.
Logan comes back with my bag of pills, while Quaid hands me a water bottle. Carter grabs the bag before I get a handle on it and starts to dig through all of my pills. He reads some of the labels and then tosses the bag in my lap in disgust.
“There are at least thirty bottles of pills in there,” he comments in a choked voice. He’s trying to control himself, because he knows that something bad is coming.
I nod silently as I pick a few that I hope will work and hurriedly swallow them down. It will take a little while for the pills to start working, but at least I know that some relief will be coming.
As I put the bottles back in the bag, I frantically try and think of what to say, how to explain the journey that I’ve been on, the decision that I came to a few months ago. What do I say to make them understand?
What if they want to leave when they hear the news?
I won’t blame them for that, I immediately decide. I won’t ever be mad at them for that.
“As you know, I was sick as a girl. I was able to go in remission right before moving to San Antonio. And I’ve been healthy since then,” I begin. I can’t look at them as I speak, because I’m pretty sure that I’ll break down in tears if I do.
“Two years ago, I began to get headaches. I ignored them at first. I just thought they were from studying too hard. But then other things started to happen. I would get nosebleeds, my hands would tremble…sometimes I would pass out. I finally went to the doctor after a couple of months, and after a few scans, we discovered that my tumor had come back.”
There’s a crashing sound, and my eyes dart up wide-eyed as Logan of all people swipes everything off the coffee table in front of him.
My words are coming out stuttering at this point, and I have to look away from them again, but I soldier on because now that the words are coming, I can’t stop.
“I dropped out of medical school, obviously. My worst fear was that I would black out or faint during a procedure and end up killing someone.” I laugh bitterly. “I began treatment after that. I’ve been poked and prodded with every drug imaginable over the last two years.”
I let out a choked sob as my next words leave my mouth.
“Nothing worked. My doctor said I had roughly three months left during our last phone call. And so I got drunk, and I wrote those letters.”
I lift my gaze once more. Logan has his hands in his hair, and he’s rocking back and forth. Quaid looks like he’s about to pass out, like he’s not sure where he is and how he got here. Carter…well, he’s perfectly still, staring at me unblinkingly with blacked out eyes and a shockingly pale complexion.
“I should have told you,” I whisper, touching my heart with my trembling hands, as if somehow that can stop the pain that I’m feeling. “I should have told you from the beginning. But I didn’t want our time together to be just because you felt sorry for me.”
My voice is pleading as I try to explain my thought process. I want them to understand desperately. I need them to understand.
“I wanted you to be here because you were in love with me, because you wanted this time together as badly as I did.”
I struggle to keep my eyes on them, because I want to hide from the shame coursing through me. “I’m so sorry,” I tell them. “I know this can’t be easy to hear—”
“This can’t be easy to hear,” Carter’s voice slices through my plea. He begins to laugh, and it’s a cold, dark laugh that sends shivers down my spine. “It can’t be easy to hear that you’re fucking dying. And you’ve been lying to us since you first sent that letter.”
He continues to laugh, bending over as he puts his hands on his knees, his whole body shaking. The sounds change after a few moments though, and there’s only choking sobs coming out of his mouth. He falls to his knees, his wails echoing throughout the room.
I have no idea what to do. There’s more crashing, and I see that Logan is destroying whatever he can get his hands on, his face crumpled up in agony and anguish. Quaid throws up right there on the couch, his face pale and clammy looking, and he looks like he’s having trouble breathing.
What have I done?
Logan abruptly leaves the room, heading for the balcony just off the room. I watch as he grips the railing. I stand up and take a step forward because I honestly am not sure what he’s going to do.
He lets out a long, anguished scream and then falls to his knees, gripping on to the railing as if it’s his lifeline.
I think I’ll remember the sound of that scream even after I’m dead.
Numbness starts to spread through my limbs. It feels like I’m just an observer of everything that’s happening, like I’m not really here. In a daze, I walk to my bedroom and lay down on my bed. I stare up at the ceiling as I listen to the sounds of their distress from outside my door.
