The Property Of: Neena Eellante | ✓ |

27. Sincerely, . . .

The memory of today has a high pitched ring glazed over the entirety of the events.

I can't remember the birds singing, the crackle of fat from the bacon, I can't remember the sound the door made when I closed it.

A hair appointment and a screening check up, all mis-scheduled by an over worked father.

A week ago, un-knowing that I was booked in for either events, I had accepted the screening with ease — might as well get checked.

"You're so young for a screening, any lumps or pain?" The nurse had smiled.

It was cold in that room,
it was just so damn fucking cold.

I wonder if she's still smiling after telling a young girl she had no choice of getting cancer, did she receive the results? Did she know?

I cut my finger on the envelope. Bloody fingerprints dried on the letter. A simple piece of paper left on the floor.

Some part of me sincerely thought I wouldn't die of old age. I was the girl in the car crash, the one found dead in her apartment, the one who was 'accidentally' pushed off a balcony.

I wasn't the girl who died alone, old and quietly. Not alone. I could live alone, live without someone but dying alone — NO. I wouldn't wanted to be reminded that I had always had been alone.

Mom had fallen to the floor, she hit her head on the table on the way down. Dad, he didn't help her. He slumped against the counter — worries of his wife, future and the plane ticket for the upcoming Friday of no importance.

Wanting nothing more than to be held but knowing no one within the walls knew how to hold someone anymore, I slumped to the floor.

Back pushed against the wall, hoping somewhat that if I pushed hard enough maybe I would fall back and would be swallowed.

I had glanced down, my hands were shaking. They were white and thin, dead. No, not dead, not yet. Breathe, don't breathe — how to breathe? You should swallow now, no, your throat aches but you need to swallow. Tears should flow, they aren't. Why aren't they flowing? Hold yourself, NO. Someone hold you.

There's no one.

There's no one. NO ONE. Someone. Who? Him. No. He can't care. Would he? Don't ask. Breathe. You can't remember how. You're dying. Laugh, dying people don't laugh.

Laugh louder.
Louder.
LOUDER.

Silence.
You're not laughing. You're screaming. Don't scream, you'll wake the neighbours. It's late.
Stay quiet; scream, cry, laugh — be very quiet.

Bone Marrow Cancer.
No symptoms.

3, 628, 800 : seconds

    60, 480    : minutes

1008        : hours