Limited Life

Limited Life. -Chapter Three.

Chapter Three.

Sharing the News.

It’s been one week since I was told I was going to die. It would be a lot easier for me if I knew how long I had exactly, because then I’ll know to stay in bed that day and not leave the house, as appose to being out in the street.

“Come in.” I responded to the knock on my door.

“Hey Aly, how ya holdin’ up?” Her soft voice echoed my silent room.

“I’m great, how’re you?” I smiled at Liz, who was sitting next to me on my bed.

I closed my laptop and shut it down; I suppose I could be doing more than just sitting on that thing all day.

“I wish you would stop lying to us, Ally,” she sighed.

“I’m not lying to any of you.”

“Of course you are, you can’t just be okay with dying, Alyssa, you’re only seventeen!” She let a tear drop.

“I am okay with it,” I held my hand up and wiped the tear off her face with my thumb. “What I’m not okay with is this causing you guys’ pain. It’s going to be alright, I promise you it will all be fine.” I kissed her forehead.

“Lyssa, it’s for you!” My mom shouted up.

“Liz, are you okay?”

“Kiddo, don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine as long as you keep that beautiful smile on your face.”

“Then you’ll never not be okay,” I smiled at her. She warmly smiled back as she left the room, and I went down stairs.

Opened the front door revealed the one and only, Dylan, parked outside my house.

I rolled my eyes.

“What do you want?” He honked twice again, and stuck his head out the window.

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!” I laughed at his impression of Regina George.

I do remember him saying something about Mean Girls being his favourite film.

I ran to Dylan’s car, kissing everyone in my house goodbye.

“What are we really doing?”

“We really are going shopping.”

“Oh my God...”

He laughed, and soon enough we pulled up outside Aprils Ville’s version of what a shopping mall was.

“May I ask why?”

“You may,” he pinched my nose, mocking my proper English. “Because it’s my birthday next week, and you owe me a present. Seen as I bought you coffee, this is only fair,” I chuckled in response.

*

We were now upstairs in my bedroom; he had made me buy him a shirt and jeans back in the ‘Mall’.

“I think we should stop hanging out, Dylan,” I looked at him.

“What? Why? What did I do?” He asked, being caught off guard.

Neither one of us had friends. I had pushed all mine away, and Dylan lost contact with his once he dropped out of school, so the only friends we had now was each other. I hate to leave him alone, but the sooner the better, I guess.

“No, no. You didn’t do anything wrong, Dylan.”

“Then what?”

“Better leave now before you get too attached, and used to hanging out with me.”

“That still doesn’t give me a full explanation, Lys.”

Lys; a nickname he had given me upon our second encountering. We had hung out almost every day since we met. Dylan was great company, and I needed that right now. But, I just can’t hurt him. I can’t keep hurting people.

I looked into his pale green eyes, should I tell him? He does deserve to know, and I bet knowing will scare him off, making all of this easier for me.

I took a deep breath, and shut my eyes, not able to look at him whilst saying this.

“Dylan, I’m dying.”

I opened my eyes. Dylan’s mouth hung open. All colour had left his face, and his lips were getting dry.

“Wh-what? I-“ He stuttered and closed his mouth. Unable to think of words.

“The day we met, remember the way you said I looked sad and I was lying about being ‘just tired’?”

He nodded slightly, not able to manage anything else.

“That was the day I was told I was dying. I ran out of the doctor’s office and went there. It was my favourite place, well, until you came there,” I stiffened a joke.

Not the best time for jokes then, I thought, looking at Dylan’s straight face.

“But how... You’re seventeen, Alyssa!”

“I know,” I nodded. “But, there’s something else.”

He cocked his head forward, signalling me to go on.

“Six years ago, I was diagnosed with Bulimia. And, I guess now, after this long struggle, has finally reached its peak,” he gulped. “It’s only a matter of time before either my stomach or oesophagus burst out of acid erosion. Months, maybe if I’m strong. But, I’m not. I’ll be lucky if I live to the end of the month.”

With tears in his eyes, he pulled me closer. My head rested on his chest, as he held onto me, beginning to whisper with his croaky voice.

“And you think I’d leave you now?”

I shut my eyes, and let a tear drop for the first time since I was told that my life was near its end.

“I’m sorry,” his grip got tighter as he heard my words.

“It’s okay, beautiful. It’s okay.”