hospital beds {remington leith short story}

twelve

**a/n: this is long and it's....idk but grab some tissues and buckle up. also this was inspired by the song "take me dancing" by the maine (above). i've got awful writer's block but hopefully i'll be back soon. love you all, thanks for reading x**

"There she is!" My dad sniffles when he sees me, drying the tears from the corners of his eyes. "My god, you look so beautiful." I can only smile at him as my prosthetic leg is placed just below the remains of my left knee. Quickly, I'm placed back in my wheelchair. I reach down to smooth out my dress, feeling tears pool in my eyes. A hole is cut into the white lace fabric, allowing an IV to run to and from the central line in my chest. The goal is to keep me comfortable, and with the medicine entering at my heart and my hand, I feel fine. 

Yesterday, my scans came back the worst they've ever been. I could feel it internally that I was dying, I could tell, but now I have to face the fact and admit it. If we thought my body was made of cancer before, we were so wrong. It now touches every part of my insides...from my muscles to my tissues and my organs. They're fighting the cancer in my brain the hardest....because I could never handle not recognizing Remington's face. 

Last night around nine p.m. I was moved to the hospice floor and started on a palliative care plan. I'm going to be gone soon, and so the goal is just to make me comfortable. The pain meds into my blood are continuous, along with anti-inflammatory medications to keep my swelling down.  Fluids are constant into my hand, but the feeds into my stomach are more spread out now. 

The good thing about being on the dying kids floor is that I can move around more. I can go to the winter garden, the cafeteria, the elevators, the roof, the chapel, outside. When you're at the end of life....you're given more freedom. The goal of palliative care is to give the best end of life care as possible. I guess they want the last memories of a person's life to be ones in a positive light. 

My mom's in front of me now, doing my makeup with tears streaming down her face. Periodic sniffles leave her as she dances brushes across my face. My eyes are covered in yellow glitter, but they look nice. I look pretty. She paints my lips red, and I rub them together, remembering the way it feels. I haven't worn makeup in years....I forgot how nice it feels to look pretty. 

"You look so nice, Kayla." My mom chokes out through broken sobs. "I can't believe this is happening."

I shake my head as I push golden studs through my ears. "Me either, fuck." I giggle a bit, realizing what I just said in front of my mother, but shake it off when she gives no reaction. 

I'm pushed toward the elevator, where yellow roses  are placed in my hand and a tiara is balanced on my bald head. "That boy of yours has taste." A nurse I don't recognize says, but before I can respond the elevator doors are closing with me inside. 

My heart is pounding wildly. I can't believe this is happening. I never thought I'd live to see this day, and I'm so happy that I'm having this opportunity before I pass. I take deep breaths, willing myself not to cry just yet. There's nothing even really to cry over yet. I'm just overwhelmed that this is happening.

The doors of the elevator open to reveal a cluster of nurses, aides, and doctors. Specialists and techs I've had throughout the years line up on either side of me as I'm pushed past. They clap and toss rose pedals in front of me. I'm giggling and smiling, taking in the familiar faces on every side of  me. 

When I turn back, my mom and Francesca have joined the line of people, and my dad now pushes me down the aisle, sobbing as he does so. I turn back around, catching a rose petal before it can hit the ground and clutching it in my palm. 

And then I see Remington. 

He's wearing a black suit with a white shirt and a long black tie. His hair is spiked up in typical fashion. But his fist is at his mouth, and he is sobbing in a way I've never seen him cry before. It's not a sad cry though, his eyes are still shining and glowing in the stunning way I fell in love with. As my father pushes me closer to the love of my life, tears start coating my cheeks as well.