My Unlikely Best Friend

Chapter 31

A/N: The picture above is Bonnie💕 and I changed her disease, so instead of Stage 2 Anaplastic Astrocytoma, she has Neuroblastoma, a different kind of cancer that kids have. The other one is mostly found in adults. *Please read the authors note at the end to understand what exactly Neuroblastoma is.*

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Bonnie's seemingly fatigued face glistened when she saw me. My focus went directly toward the dark circles around her eyes as soon as I saw her, it was that prevalent.

The glow in her eyes was dimmed, they weren't as bright as when I first met her at the children's hospital the other day.

Her smile—it was like an attempt to force the bubbly brightness she once had, only a few days ago to be shone on her face again. I also saw that she had a nasogastric tube, which she didn't have before. It was something that was placed through your nostril and into your stomach. It was also stuck to her cheek with tape that was heart shaped and went all the way behind her ear and down into her dress. This wasn't good because it's usually for patients that can't keep food down or for an easier insertion of medication.

I knew this because I remember when I had to have one placed in me years ago. It was a terrible time in my life. That thin plastic tube would cause me so much agony. I would cringe when they'd place it in me because the feeling of it going in my nose was very unpleasant. I gagged almost every time it slid down my nostril and choked whenever it reached my throat, but I'd cry and scream whenever my mom or some nurse had to pull it out in order to replace it. Dr. Campbell said I'd get used to it with time, but I never did. It was just so uncomfortable.

I felt dejected. There was a pang in my heart when I saw her because I knew the immense effort it took to hide pain and suffering behind a sweet and simple smile. I do it all the time, myself.

It's not like I don't want to tell anyone how I'm feeling, as a matter of fact, I wish I could just scream to the top of my lungs and tell everybody how I'm perceiving with this disease, how I'm coping with possibly meeting up with death by the end of the year.

It's just that I don't want anyone to worry about me, especially my mom. I don't want her to understand the pains that I feel, she already has enough to worry about.

In a sense, Bonnie's just like me—pretending to be strong when we're actually not. She had guts, probably more than me.

She gasped with her mouth wide open, then said, "Dawn!" I smiled as she got up and ran toward me. I wish that I was able to pick her up and hold her in my arms. Unfortunately, I was too weak to do that. It's so sad that even the simplest of things are too hard for me to do, like breathing on my own. "I thought I would never see you again!"

"Why, hello there," a sweet woman said to me. I believe she was one of the few women that were in charge of all the children that were in this room. There were a few other rooms, and each one had about ten to fifteen kids in it, I believe.

"H...hi," I said awkwardly.

"Bonbon, you know... this person?" Her nurse asked skeptically, as she was getting up.

While she was still hugging me, Bonnie looked at her smiling and nodded. "Yep, she's my friend," she said. "And her name is Dawn."

"Why don't you stay with us for the remaining time we have left. There's a spot just for you right here," my eyes followed the sweet lady's pointing finger to a place on the carpet. "There are enough snacks, and drinks for all of us, and there's plenty more tricks up Bobby's sleeves," she said referring to the silly clown.

"Yeah, you should really stay," Bonnie said, letting me go. "We can laugh together."

I giggled at what she'd said. "Okay," I said shyly. "I'd love to."