If I Stay {Fillie}

The Darkest Parts of Me

May 2, 2022
3:14 pm

Dear Journal,
Here we go again.

Of course, this journal entry was a mental one. Millie's notebook was all the way back in Vancouver, in Finn's mansion, in her bedroom, tucked inside the bedside table, safe from the unforgiving world. And she was in Toronto, in a hospital, waiting for the doctor in another boring, blank room that made her feel trapped and helpless.

Lilia sat in the corner, waiting with her.

Finn had asked profusely to stay with Millie, but Lilia refused sternly, saying Millie needed a female companion to help her through this. Only the stylist knew about her cancer, and Millie would do anything to keep it that way.

She had grown close with Finn. They were friends now, as of yesterday. What would happen if she told him she was inevitably going to die in a year? He would push her away, stop talking to her, shut her out like he did everyone else.

And that was Millie's biggest fear. Being ostracized and abandoned for something that wasn't her fault.

You can't care about a dying girl too much.

It's dangerous.

She would keep Finn in the dark until the last moment possible.

Until it was too late for him to fight back.

The door opened, jolting Millie out of her thoughts with a jump. A small man with graying hair and a kind face strolled into the hospital room, smiling pleasantly. "Good afternoon, Miss Brown." He greeted Millie first, then nodded politely to Lilia, whose stoic expression did not change. "I'm Dr. O'Bryan. Are you feeling any better?" He pulled up a chair next to the bed and settled himself into it.

Millie shrugged, refusing to directly meet his eyes. "I guess. I'm not comatose anymore, so that's something."

The doctor chuckled lightly, but it was not a joke to Millie. His laughter died out awkwardly after a moment. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Your friend here informed me of your...uh, condition when you were brought in. Do you collapse often?"

"Only when I've overly exerted myself or haven't taken my medicine," Millie muttered in reply, picking at a loose string on her sheets.

"How many times has it happened?" O'Bryan inquired, leaning forward on his elbows.

Millie thought for a moment. "Three. All in the last two weeks."

"What kind of medication do you take?"

"Corticosteroids. Two a day."

O'Bryan seemed surprised. "Just pain meds? You aren't treating your cancer monthly with chemo?"

Millie felt a prickle of annoyance spark her skin. "I'm going to die either way, Doctor. I'm not going to willingly go bald if I don't have to."

The doctor blinked, as if confused by her slight snapping. "Oh, um...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Are the corticosteroids helping?"

Millie sighed and sank down further, her back crumpling the already flat pillow beneath her. "They sort of help. They seem to wear off very quickly, though. And when I don't take them I vomit and get headaches and my neck hurts like hell."

O'Bryan was nodding throughout everything Millie said, and it was obvious he was taking mental notes. "Keep taking those pills. The vomiting and things are typical for your situation, although passing out as often as you do is a bit abnormal. Once you get back home I advise you to go to your doctor and ask his advice on what you should do to stay on your feet. I think we've done all we can for you, so you're free to go. Your friend over there already paid the bill." He motioned toward the door.