It was June 2nd the day I died. Just around the time when the weather became warmer and everyone was ready for summer. At school, exams are right around the corner and the senior girls already have their dresses picked out for their perfect prom night. I wish I could have been doing the same. Although, Asher seemed more excited for prom than I was.
Asher was my boyfriend of three years. We met when he came to Richmore high school as a new student in our sophomore year. I wasn’t diagnosed back then. I attended school as a normal student, kept up good grades and participated in as many sports teams as I could. I still attended school as often as I could when I was diagnosed. On the bad days, Asher would always come and visit me. He was always there, even on the day I had to tell him that I had been diagnosed with a common type of kidney cancer.
The day I died I was in the hospital; I had been emitted a few days prior. I laid in a cold bed, the sheets white, wrinkled and sleek with my sweat. As one can imagine, it was the worst of my bad days.
My family stood over me on the left of my bed, my friends and Asher on my right. Normally, I wasn’t allowed this many people in a hospital room at a time, even in a private room of which I had been provided, but given the circumstance, the few nurses of who have I have gotten to know for the past year or so, were kind enough to make an exception.
I wasn’t necessarily a shy person but I didn’t like to be the center of attention and that day, that was exactly what I was. Everyone surrounding me had very gloom faces, and I can understand that but it didn’t help the pit like feel that rested in my stomach. People came and left through my room that day, to say their final goodbyes. We all knew I was going to die. We had known for a long time now that this was my last day.
For the past seven months, Asher refused to let this be my fate. The sweet boy tried for so many months to try and find a cure for me. He spent a great deal of money on tests for me to take and treatments and surgeries, but unfortunately none of them were effective enough for my body to withstand. I didn’t like him spending his money on me, but I agreed to every treatment because it made him happy. I knew they wouldn’t work, nothing did. The doctors would tell him there was a slim to no chance that they would work, but he held on to that slim chance that they would. The treatments were all the hope he had, the only hope he had left.
He stayed with me the entire day and only left two times to get us something to eat. I admit, I imagined my last day anywhere else than in a hospital bed. I imagined myself on an adventure, doing something crazy that would scare me but Asher insisted I be kept in the care of professionals in case their was a chance, any chance of keeping me alive for even just one more day. My parents gave me the option, to be emitted or spend a final day of freedom. I did what made Asher happy. That’s what I always did and he did what he thought he could to keep me breathing and my heart beating. I love that boy, with all my heart, and he knows that and I know he feels the same with me. That’s what worries me so much, people’s reactions when I’ve passed. For every action there is a re-action and I don’t want the aftermath to be as drastic as the impact was for everyone. I guess it’s selfish to say that I do with I could stay alive and live a long and happy life like someone my age should. But I don’t want it as much for me as I do for Asher and my family.
I had just gobbled down the last of my chicken noodle soup for dinner. I loved this stuff so much as a kid that my dad would call me a chicken. “You are what you eat,” he would say. Its strange how much someone’s appetite can change and how often we change our mind about things as we grow up. I still remember being in kindergarten. It was one of the only times where everything was simple. The only real problem in life was deciding which colour crayon to draw with.
My eye lids are heavy and it takes too much strength to try and keep them open. I start to drift off and a memory from kindergarten comes to mind. I remember it was story time and we were all sitting on the carpet facing our teacher who sat in a wooden rocking chair while holding up a copy of Clifford the Big Red Dog so we could see the pictures. She read us the story of the dog who informed us about fire safety. We were taught that if a fire ever occurred, we were not to go back into the house for anything, not even a pet of ours. A little boy whose name I cannot recall but whose face I cannot forget began to sob for his new little puppy that he had just gotten. The empathetic teacher reached down and scooped the little boy into her arms and sat him on her lap, comforting him while she finished the story.
My thoughts were interrupted and I was no longer in my peaceful dreams. My eyes opened and there was Asher. “Evie, you need to stay awake, princess,” he spoke. His voice seemed so distant; it was hard to understand him. “You need to stay with me, beautiful,” he repeated, his voice sounding more concerned and filled with panic. I could just barely see his eyes fill with tears and it broke my heart.
It was a challenge but I was able to respond. “I’m so tired.” It came out as a low mumble. My eye lids were heavy again and I couldn’t keep them open any longer. “No, you can’t sleep now, not now, Evie. You need to stay awake, oh god, please stay awake,” he was rushing through his words, tears fell down his cheeks; he was losing it.
I could see my kindergarten classroom again, another memory was forming and the real world was fading. But I could still hear the screaming of Asher’s voice. “Don’t you dare leave me, Eve! I need you Evangeline! You will always be my angel.” The yelling was loud at first and then they also started to fade. I could feel my body being lifted and shaken but then, all of the sudden, I didn’t feel anything anymore.
You are said to see a bright light or your life flashed before your eyes, but instead, I saw stars. It was like they were just a touch away and if I could just reach far enough I could capture one in my palms. Maybe it was just a dream. Or maybe I had just...passed. Or maybe it was both.