Look out for the <>!

Darla H

I laid in bed for I don't know how long as I faded in and out of consciousness. No one returned to my room for a while after Doctor Patel left, but I was grateful for that. I didn't want people crying over me, seeing their sad faces. I didn't want to be reminded that I was the center of all of their pain and that it would have been easier if they never had me in their lives to begin with. Instead, I enjoyed the peace of being alone. After the crowd of people and chaos, I need silence and a moment to think.

I listened to the birds chirping outside and just enjoyed the new fall breeze that came blowing in from the open window in my room. I heard a small child outside my door tell his parents about a little blue ball that he loved. Children were so simple. I wish I had more of my childhood left. I feel like that kind of innocence never stayed with me as long as it should have, reminding me of another thing that cancer took from me.

I sighed with a slight frown as I realized that life was beautiful. The way the sun would hit the cars and make them shine, the way a baby laughs at their parents for doing something silly, how new snow falls on the ground so gently, like feathers coming to the earth. This life was full of beauty and I hated to admit that for the past three years I refused to see this simple beauty.

Over the past three years, I slowly turned into this bitter person who I was now. I didn't have the intention to be like this; I didn't want to be like this, but as a flower dies in late summer, my personality did the same, slowly, until it was completely gone.

I became jaded with life, unamused by the simplicity and wonder of it. I lived day in and out, unfazed by what happened around me until Peter broke me out, but even then I still found myself jaded at times. In my attempt to be brave, I turned to stone. Now my life was ending, and it only took me until now to notice the simple beauty that my life had.

<>

Breaking me from my thoughts sometime later was my phone, that buzzed with a text from Peter. "Can I drop by again?" he asked.

I frowned, knowing that if I didn't have long, it wasn't right that I stayed with him for any longer. He didn't deserve to stay around until the end. I didn't want him to see me waste away like that. Breaking up would be the best for both of us but it was going to be so hard. I cared about him so much that I wanted him around still but didn't at the same time.

I quickly responded yes as I thought about what to tell him. What I was doing to him wasn't fair. He deserved a normal relationship, and that was why I needed to end it with him. I needed him to move on for not only himself but for me. I had no future, and he was just wasting his time with me, he deserved so much more than I offered.

A few minutes later, Peter walked back in with a smile on his face, all worry vanished, hinting that he was either faking it or he truly believed that I would be ok. "I'm going to head out ok?" He said and took a seat by my bed. He reached for my hand, giving it a light squeeze, then kissed it. "You are going to be fine. You will get over this."

I frowned at him but said nothing as emotions took hold. He was in denial. He wouldn't accept this as my fate, he would hold on to hope, and once I faded into nothing, it would crush him, maybe even break him. As I looked at his hopeful eyes, I didn't have the heart to tell him that I couldn't get over this. This was the end of the road for me, but as I looked at him, the words I wanted to say got caught in my throat.

I squeezed his hand back as emotions told hold of me, not wanting him to leave my side. My eyes well up with tears as I thought about how selfish I was for keeping him around. I hated it but at the same time, I couldn't stop myself, finding it impossible to push him away at the moment.

Peter wiped a stray tear from my face silently. "I talked to the nurses and they think you can leave in two days if all goes well," he smiled at me widely, as if this was the best news he had heard in a long time.

I laid there in silence as I watched him for a minute, as excitement danced around in his eyes like a child at Disney World. He was so perfect. I didn't want to say goodbye to him. I didn't want us to end. I didn't want myself to end. I wanted to be selfish and keep him by my side right until the end, wanting to see his face as I took my final breaths. But that was selfish and scaring and I should never put him through that. "Didn't you have a game tonight?" I asked him, suddenly remembering his rugby game.

He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "You were more important."

I frowned at him. And just like that, I set my mind to it. I had to do the impossible. I had to end it with him, even though it was going to break me. Even though this would be impossible, I didn't deserve this, and he didn't either. I couldn't give him what he needed. He thought I was going to get better, that we could have a future, but that could never happen. He shouldn't devote his time to me any longer. I was just wasting it. "Next time, I want you to go to your game, Peter. You have a chance for a scholarship. If you stop going, the scouts will not see your greatness like I have."

"So then I'll go to school locally. There are options here," he said simply, as if he had thought about this already.

I shook my head at him, even though that made me dizzy. "You have so much more potential than that."

"But I see that we have more potential."

I wanted to scream at him. We had no potential. I was dying. I couldn't continue this conversation. And just like I was unable to share my secret with him, I was unable to tell him the truth about what would happen next. "Peter, I'm exhausted. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow?" I asked, hoping to find the courage tomorrow to break up with him.

He nodded. "Of course." He said and kissed me lightly. "I love you, Clare May Atkins. I will see you tomorrow."

"I love you too," I said to him as I watched him leave the room.

I let out a breath as soon as he left. We needed to stop what we had. This wasn't healthy for him. And as much as I needed him in my life, I needed to let him go. I was just leading him on, and that was sickening to think about. Breaking up with Peter was going to be the most painful thing I would ever have to do and it might be the death of me.

By time my parents came but, I had regained myself completely. Hope held on to me as I expected to see Farrah, but once again Farrah was nowhere to be seen. Figures. She was picking her new boy over me once again. I didn't even care how great of a human he was, I just wanted Farrah back for the rest of the small-time that I had left in this world. But she didn't seem to get that, or maybe she just didn't care about me as much as I did about her.

Mom and dad both had this long, tired, worn-out look on their faces as they sat down in the chairs by my bed., making me realize they fretted about me this whole time.

I frowned at them, not wanting to see them so upset, but I knew I couldn't fix anything with my words. They should have seen this coming from a mile away and now it was time to brace ourselves for the sinking ship.

"We need to talk," I told them. For the first time in a long time, I was going to be completely honest with them, since they needed to know everything.

"The treatment isn't working," dad said, beating me to what I was going to say to them. Mom broke down in tears, even though her face was splotchy, hinting that she had already cried for hours. Knowing her, she probably been crying all afternoon.

I hid the shocked look I had on my face. I thought the truth was hidden. I thought they wouldn't know until I told them myself. Doctor Patel told me that he wouldn't share. I trusted him. "How do you know?"

"We have known it for a while," he said, not answering my question.

I frowned at them. "Doctor Patel?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

He nodded at me but said nothing to me.

And my favorite Doctor couldn't even keep up my expectations. Damn it. I thought I could trust him; he told me he wouldn't share. I asked him to do one simple thing, but I guess I couldn't even trust my rock.

"He told us that he wanted to let you make the choices in what to do next and we agreed with his idea and your choice in continuing the treatments. He hoped that if you had full control of your treatment, it would help give you the strength to beat this."

It wasn't the smartest choice though, because it failed. My frown deepened as dad talked more. I didn't care to pay much attention to what he said because I felt myself drown in my own thoughts.

Even when I thought I was making my own choices, I never really was. I thought I was completely in control; I thought I was calling the shots. What hurt me the most was that I trusted Patel to keep my secrets. I thought he differed from all the other doctors here, that he respected me as a smart person, but he fooled me. "But obviously I make terrible choices because I'm even worse than I originally was."

He sighed because I was right. "It wasn't your fault. We all thought that was the best option. Doctor Patel told us about this new treatment in California. He's hopeful about this. We can get there in a week if you stabilize enough."

I shook my head at him before he could continue. I already decided about this and there was no way I would change it. I was staying here. I was going to die here at my home peacefully, and that was what I wanted.

He got up from his chair and paced the room with a straight face, hinting that he would not listen to me. "No Clare, listen to me," he said sternly.

"No, you listen, dad. Please. You're always trying to make the best choices for me. But can I make my own choice for once? I know you two want the best for me and I appreciate it. However, I have fought long and hard and I'm tired. I don't want to go to California. I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stop treatment and enjoy the rest of the time I have on this earth in peace with the people I care most about," I said to him calmly.

Mom sobbed, making me realize that I had never seen her cry so hard. I watched as my dad's eyes quietly filled up with tears. He bit his lip and shook his head, but remained quiet.

"Can you please respect my wishes?" I begged.

"You don't know how hard it is to agree to this. We will talk about it, later, ok?" he said and took a seat by my bed.

I nodded at him. Knowing that this conversation will take much longer. "Ok."