Wildflower

"Tell me one good thing about death, Harry Styles, please, enlighten me," I snap, and the words tumble out of my mouth maybe a little more harsh than expected.
"Well, Beth, when you die, you will be free. You will be free from every care, and every evil thing. You'll be free from the pain in your head, Love, and the pain I've caused you. You will be free when you die, Beth, free like a wildflower."

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3. 3

The hospital room seems so empty compared to the messiness of my old bedroom. My eyes scan the room, spotting an unopened suitcase full of unworn clothes. There's a lamp in the corner by a big recliner chair, that someone has yet to sit in. I shift my head, seeing a small window with the shades drawn. small bits of light shinning through the sides, creating shadows throughout the room.

 

I close my eyes and lay in barely lit room, relaxing my every muscle. Gemma comes in.

 

"Beth," she whispers. "are you awake?" I nod and cover my face with a thick down blanket.

 

"Sleep fights cancer, haven't you heard?" I mumble, curling into a small ball. I want to disappear, I want the feeling back, of just poofing away. Gemma sighs, and lifts the blanket over my head, I keep my eyes shut, but I know she's smiling. 

 

"So I've been told." I feel her tuck me tightly in. My mother used to do that, so I wouldn't run out of bed, but right now I don't feel like running, or moving. Or living. I just want to sleep. It fights cancer you know.

 

"I'm bored." I groan, and I hear a chuckle leave Gemma's lips.

 

"No one's keeping you in this hospital room, Bethy."

 

"I know," I nibble on my dry lip, and open my eyes, seeing to see if Gemma is actually there, not just a figment of my imagination. A hallucination. A brain seizure. Gemma's there, and she's messing with my tubes.

 

I have tubes now. It's just a thing, it's just a cancer thing.

 

"You know when I first met you, and I told you I have a brother your age?" Gemma asks, in between soft hums of quiet noise.

 

I nod. It's too much energy to speak.

 

"Well, he's visiting me from England, isn't that cool? You might get to meet him if you want." Gemma's nice, too nice. I'm mean to her, though.So, I try and put a smile on my face, as I keep my head nodding.

 

"That'd be fun, better than laying here all day imagining my funeral."

 

 

I get glances of Gemma's brother as he waits in the hall, though all I see are curls matted to the top of his head. Never a face shot. In some ways, I hope he comes to talk to me, since the only person I've talked to in a week is Gemma and my mother over the phone. But, I really don't want to talk to him, because all I can seem to talk about is my cancer. Cancer this, cancer that. Did you know that sleep actually does fight cancer? Well it does! My Chemo starts on Friday, I really hope it works! Yeah, brain cancer, stage IV. It sucks. I hope I live to 21, it's my goal. Yes, it's terminal..?

 

"Shit, Beth, I need to go get a needle, will you be fine with Harry, in your room for a few minutes?" Gemma asks, and she rushes to the door. I open my mouth to speak, but only air comes out, I nod and she leaves. I haven't actually noticed that Gemma's brother was in the room now, he's sitting on the untouched chair.

 

"Hi," I mumble, waving my hand slightly before collapsing it on the bed. He shoots his head down and mumbles something incoherently. I roll my eyes and groan. "What's your problem, big boy?"

 

"Bad breakup." He furrows his brow as he shoots me a glare, I roll my eyes again and sit up more.

 

"Well, I'm gonna die in 6 months." A flash of embarrassment hits the boy's eyes, and he mouths sorry before looking back down at his fiddling fingers. I bite my lips harder and slouch down a bit.

 

"Sorry, don't feel bad, it's like, totally fine. I'm fine with everything. I just use the 6 month thing to be a bitch, I'm sorry."

 

He shrugs and sighs, looking back up at me. "I'm Harry,"

 

"I'm Beth,"

 

And, maybe as I say this, I accidentally look at every feature of Harry's face. Maybe I accidentally notice, his dimple, and his curls that aren't matted, but actually perfectly fallen onto the top of his head. And his big green eyes, that seem blue at first, but the longer you look, the more bright, gently, soft but shocking green they become. And I definitely accidentally notice his soft, pink blush that develops on his full cheeks, as I keep my stare at him.

 

"So I've been told." Harry says.

 

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