Oh my God! Oh my God!
Megan’s phone fell from Tristan’s shivering hands. The saliva on his tongue and gullet had vanished. His teeth started clattering like he was at the verge of convulsing.
“Tristan, what’s wrong with you?” Megan said.
“Tristan” She called again.
But his eardrums had shut down.
He kept juddering. Shivering as though he was in a Jacuzzi filled with ice. Oh my God! He jumped to his feet and screamed. “Why!” Why didn’t he read Fletcher’s suicide note before going to India? Why! Why? His heart shattered into fragments like a ceramic bowl hurled at a wall would.
His uncle’s letter had been addressed to him. The first line beginning with: Dear Tristan. The words broke him, however, it didn’t pierce his soul the way the rest of the letter did. Fletcher did not die because of Priyanka Khanna, instead it was because of him. For my sake, Fletcher died.
A month ago, Fletcher was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer. The kind that came without symptoms. The full blown one. That killed his birthfather and his grandfather. On receiving his diagnosis, Fletcher knew that no matter how hard he tried at chemotherapy, at the end of it all, he would end up dying like his father and his brother. However, in his letter, he explained that he didn’t want to live like his father or his brother. They hoped for months while cancer stole their lives slowly and painfully. And during those months, the hospital bills piled up. And the money that should have been reserved for him and Tristan’s father college education was spent in treating their father whose case was deemed hopeless from day one. Not only that, their house was used as collateral to collect loan for treatments to prolong their dad’s life nonetheless, the extra cash didn’t pay off. As they still lost their father within a month of taking the loan and to worsen it, they lost their house and were later thrown into the streets without a single penny in their pockets for their future.
I know you’ve a bright tomorrow, Tristan, so I couldn’t do it to you. His uncle wrote. Else, if left to you, you’ll use every single cash we have to try and save me. And we both know that I can’t be saved nor rescued at this point. My life can only be prolonged with lots of treatment and that will cost the kind of money that I can’t afford for you to waste if I desire to see you complete your education and become something great in life.
More so, Fletcher didn’t want the last image Tristan should have of his strong and athletic uncle to be that of a dying cancerous frail man. Instead in Tristan’s heart, he wanted to be remembered as young, vibrant and gregarious.
And his last words on the suicide note had been: Enjoy your life, boy. Life is short. Live each day as if it were your last. ‘Cause somebody it would really be. And when we meet again, remember I’ll love to hear all the stories of the mighty deeds you accomplished.
Lots of love from your one and only uncle,
Fletcher.
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