With You ✔

32

Kit

It's been over a month since my "dad" told me that if there was anything he could do to prevent me from dying, all I had to do was ask. I've been thinking about those words every night since. Every night I lay awake thinking of what he said and wondering if he meant it. The possibilities haunt me, especially since I promised myself that I would fight for my life and my future - no matter the cost or the risks.

Every night I think of that promise and I think about how I don't have the money to follow through, but my dad does.

Finn and I don't talk about the visit with our dad, there's no need to. We were both there, we both got what we went there for, even if I didn't know I needed something until I was there. We talked to each other afterwards, and we have nothing more to say. Ellie and I don't talk about it either, we talked on the way back to my house and that was enough for me. I got out all of my anger, and I was there for Finn - that's all I needed.

But now I need more.

Prom is in two weeks and graduation is in three. If everything goes as planned, I should be back in time for both.

I look over at the clock on my nightstand, and see that it's almost time. I need to leave soon, if I don't go now, I don't know that I'll be able to talk myself into this again. Ellie is sound asleep beside me. Her bare back is facing me, and even though I know that I need to do this, I also know this might be the last time I see her and last night may have been the last time I got to kiss her and feel her skin on mine. Ellie changed everything for me, and now I need to do my part and make sure we can enjoy this new life she introduced me to.

I packed my bags yesterday before she got here and hid them in the back of my closet. She has no idea what I'm planning, just like she has no idea that two days ago I went back to my dad's house and told him that I don't want to talk to him, I don't want a relationship with him, and I don't want an apology. All I wanted from him was a round trip plane ticket and the promise not to mention this to anyone, not that I thought he would.

Thirty minutes later I was back in my car on my way home, with my plane ticket purchased and an extra thousand dollars of guilt money for the trip.

A cab is picking me up at four a.m, so that leaves just one more hour before everything changes. In two hours I will be on a plane to Houston, Texas and I don't know for sure that my round trip ticket won't turn out to be a one way.

I kiss Ellie's back, neck, shoulder, and face lightly trying to remember every inch of her and her smell before I have to go. I trace the lines of her face, and twirl a piece of her hair around my finger, wanting to remember every detail of her, no matter how small. She stirs a little, and finally I get what I want when she turns over to face me, her steel blue eyes sleepily opening and looking at me through heavy lids. A smile spreads across her lips, and that's the image of Ellie I want to leave here with.

"I love you, but I love sleep more." She yawns before rolling back over and seconds later her breathing is heavy again as she sleeps.

"I love you, too." I whisper as I get out of the bed, sitting two envelopes in the spot I had just abandoned.

Before I close the bedroom door behind me, I take one last look back at Ellie.

Once I'm in the cab and headed towards the airport, everything becomes more real and all I want to do is turn around and crawl back into my bed with Ellie. But I can't - I have to do this, and I won't back out.

When my first CT scan came back with the images of the tumor on my brain, a surgical team was assigned to my case and I was sent to a hospital in Massachusetts where they would operate to remove it.

I told Ellie that I didn't have surgery, and that was only half true. I was prepped for surgery, I was put under anesthesia, and the first cut was made. That's really as far as my surgery went though because once my head was open and the evil life sucking thing was exposed, it showed the surgeons just how evil it really was.

In the CT, you couldn't see clearly just how close the tumor was to so many other areas of my brain. If they tried to cut it out they could sever something else, or a plethora of things could go wrong. The surgical team closed me up, took me back to my room and gave my mom the news. The news that, leaving this tumor be, and letting it live out it's life in my brain was the best plan of action. Let it live out it's life - like I'm the intruder and it's the victim.

My mom was destroyed. The doctors had basically just told her they couldn't do anything but wait for the tumor to kill me. I took pills to counteract symptoms of the constant pushing on my brain, I did regular check ups, scans, and tests to make sure it wasn't growing, and I dropped out of sports because over exerting myself wasn't good for me and neither would a ball to the head or being tackled to the ground.

I was seventeen when I got my first CT and had my failed surgery. I was still seventeen when my mom's friend contacted a neurosurgeon in California that was famous for working miracles and told her about my case. Doctor Miller flew out to me in Boston and reviewed my case, met my mom, and came up with a plan.

Doctor Miller was confident that with her approach she could get the tumor out of my head, and I would be good as new. The only problem with Doctor Miller's plan was that it had never been done before, and if it didn't go exactly as planned, I would die within minutes. There was no wiggle room for mistakes or hesitations in this surgery, it had to go perfectly. But because there was no wiggle room and it had never been done before, my mom said no.

At this point in my diagnosis last year, I didn't care anymore, so I didn't fight my mom. I was seventeen anyway, and I know that if me dying was an option she wasn't going to change her mind. Ironic though, because if we do nothing, I'm dying anyway.

I'm eighteen now and I don't need my mom's permission. I called the hospital in Houston where Doctor Miller now works and after spending hours trying to get a hold of her, I finally did. She remembered me - well, she remembered my tumor, she thinks it's beautiful apparently. Doctor Miller told me that if I could get her an updated scan of my brain she would take a look and see if she could still help me.

Lucky for me I had my latest scan last week, so I had it sent over to her. Two days later she called me back and said that she was confident that she could still do the surgery and have positive results. She reminded me that she can't promise me it will go as planned, but that she believed it would, and that was enough for me.

So here I am, heading to Texas with nothing but hope and fear.

I didn't tell anyone where I went, I don't want them here to worry or to try to stop me. I want to do this on my own and if it goes well, then I'm sure everyone will forgive me. If it doesn't...well I hope the letters explain that to them.