Sorcery (Louis Tomlinson)

xvii. Smiles

The pamphlet in my hands felt heavy like the weight in my chest. The picture of the happy family on the cover haunted me: a mother holding her teenage daughter and the father laughing and smiling in the background. Cut out the mother and the papers would be perfectly personalized for me.

My eyes read over the title on the cover again, my stomach still clenching up the same way from nerves. I wiped my sweaty hands on the hospital bedsheets, leaning back against the pillows as I dropped the booklet onto my lap.

'Choosing an ICD for Your Teen'.

ICD's were implantable cardioverter defibrillators, pacemakers to keep hearts pumping.

I didn't want one.

The doctor kept talking to Dad about options for me, going over a possible procedure that could possibly fix my problem altogether or at least extend my lifespan. Dad politely listened and asked questions, but I knew deep down he wouldn't agree to the surgery. Dad knew there was nothing I dreaded more than the thought of being cut open, and he also knew there was nothing I was scared of more than being cut open and dying on the surgical table without being able to spend my last moments with him or Louis.

We had had an agreement a long time ago: no surgery.

My doctor, Dr. Ellington, seemed to think otherwise.

"Since she did survive an episode of cardiac arrest, she would be a candidate for this operation. The ICD would help regulate her heartbeat and prevent another episode from happening again." He said, Dad sighing in his hospital chair before standing up and picking up the unopened pamphlet on my lap. He flipped through the pages quietly, sighing again before addressing Dr. Ellington.

"May we have time to consider this?" He asked politely, the doctor nodding and excusing himself to check on other patients. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Dad walked over to the nearest trash can and dropped the booklet into it.

"No one's cutting me open?" I asked hopefully, Dad walking over to me and nodding.

"We had a pinky promise a long time ago, didn't we? No surgeries." He reassured me, making me sigh in relief. My head fell back to the soft pillows, my eyes closing as relief washed over me.

"You'll be fine after a little bit of time. You don't need surgery." Dad said confidently, making me nod.

I had never spent more than a few days in the hospital, doctors often being amazed at my body's miraculous ability to heal quickly almost overnight. Every time Dad would sign the discharge papers, the nurses and doctors would joke I must have some special healing ability, and Dad would only chuckle at their comments.

Thinking about healing abilities made me wonder about Louis.

As if on cue, the door to my hospital room opened and Louis walked in, small bags of treats and snacks in his arms.

"Finally, now I can go to the bathroom." Dad groaned, getting up and heading for the door.

"Why didn't you just go earlier?" I asked, watching as my father slapped hands with Louis.

"'Cause Louis and I are a tag team to watch over you." Dad joked as he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

I only rolled my eyes and tried reaching for the remote control to the television that hung from the wall, my fingers not quite reaching it. Louis quickly walked over and handed it to me, sitting down in his usual chair to the left of my bedside as he watched me aimlessly flip through channels. Once he would finish a bag of chips or a granola bar, he would discard the wrappers on my bedsheets until I glared at him to throw them away. Louis held his hands up in surrender before getting up and going to the same trash can Dad threw the pamphlet in.