If Only...

IT'S NOT TART

No.

It feels like I'm falling into one of those endless pits, screaming my throat out as I do. But no one will hear me. The beeps quicken, but where once used to be my heart, now stands a wide, gaping hole.

The entirety of my life is flung through that hole as harmful daggers, only to hit the floor in the end.

Is this is where it all ends?

No!

No, no, no!

I glance up to Valerie again, just ignoring the words she had just uttered though they ring loud and clear in my ears. I wished them to be untrue.

They have to be untrue!

No, no, no. This can't end like this. No, please, things were just starting to look up. No, please . . .

I can still wake up. Oh, God, please let me wake up. . .

I cover my ears with my palms when Valerie starts to discuss treatment options, closing my eyes tightly and trying to wake up.

Please, God. . . please, no . . .

"Alex." I hear it distantly along with the distress, and I want it to be his voice waking me from my sleep. I want him to wish me a good morning. I want to hear him say how beautiful I looked just woken up. I want him to promise me that things'll work out even when we're both fired. I want him to tell me he loves me until our very last breath . . .

"Alex." It strains again, and a cold and clammy hand prying my hands away from my face. Danny still won't look up.

No, no, no. All of this is about to change. I'm going to wake up.

"I'm so sorry, Alex." Valerie chokes, squeezing my hands again. I must've heard her wrong. No, this can't be happening. "But we really need to talk about what we need to do next."

You don't do anything next!

I'm supposed to go home and spend the rest of my life that's just waiting for me. . .

Tears that are no longer in my control trickle down my numb face, each tear for each false hope. Who was I to think that nothing would change? That everything was just going to keep getting better because I had surpassed what I thought to be the most difficult phase. But now? . . .

I shake my head, driving the thoughts out too. No, it can't be true.

Could it?

"There's no stage five?"

A guttural groan sounds from my right, and I take his hand in mine. I cannot tell if that helps in any way.

"I'm sorry."

"But . . ." I suck in a breath, and realize that I've been hyperventilating. All those instances, all those movies I've watched late into the night with Stella flash before my eyes. I never for the life of me expected that to happen to me. Is this really happening to me?

I look around, and the movements feel fluidic and slow. Almost like it's a dream . . .

But then I glace down at the numerous tubes and fluids entering and exiting me, and that explains it.

"But . . . how did it just happen out of nowhere--"

"You've had it forever, Alex. That's the problem with this type of . . . cancer. It's hard to diagnose."

"Maybe you've got it wrong now."

She shakes her head, swallowing. This is real. This is very much real.