Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“What is this about?” I ask when he doesn’t immediately say something.
“Emma, I’m going to get straight to the point. I’ve got your recent test results back, and they are not what we hoped.”
My stomach sinks, and my chest tightens. No, this can’t be true. “What do you mean? Last time we talked…” I try to recall all the things he said. The word hopeful comes to mind. Did I misunderstand him before? Did I hear only what I wanted to hear?
“You initially reacted well to the treatment, but sometimes that can change and unfortunately it has for you.” His words hit me like a ton of bricks.
I feel like there is a weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to say or think right now. All I know is that for the first time since my diagnosis, I am very scared of death.
A few moments of silence pass between us, a million thoughts running through my mind during that brief time. My future, the future I was dreaming of less than an hour ago, is ripped from me violently.
“There are other options we can look at moving forward,” the doctor offers, but his voice is strained, like even he doesn’t believe it.
In my mind, there is only one question left to ask. I have to force the words out because the weight of them is so heavy. “How long… I mean… how much time do I have left?”
“Emma, don’t think about this yet. We can still try some other treatments.”
“And if they don’t work either, how much time do I have left?” I don’t know why this is so important to me, but I have to know. I just have to.
Dr. Pearson sighs heavily before taking my chart from his desk to flip through it. “If nothing else works… six months to a year.”
Six months to a year.
I slump back in my seat, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me.
Six months to a year.
I can’t get that timeframe out of my head. What if that’s all I have left? What if I die before I turn twenty? What am I going to tell my grandma, and what about the twins?
“Would you like to try another treatment, Emma?” The doctor drags me out of my morbid thoughts. “We can take you off your current plan and try something new. There is still hope. Don’t give up yet.”
“Of course. I’m willing to try something else. Anything really.”
“Great!” The doctor seems excited as he goes over my new treatment plan. I try to pay attention the best I can, but my mind is still in disarray.
I don’t feel like myself. I feel like I’m outside of my body looking in. Like my subconscious still hasn’t accepted the news. I feel so disconnected, like I’m pieces unable to find my way back together.
“And that’s pretty much everything,” the doctor concludes. “Do you have any questions?”
I shake my head, feeling dazed.
“Do you mind if I just sit here for another minute?” I ask desperately.
“Of course! Take your time, Emma. Whatever you need,” he says while looking at me with kind eyes.
“Thank you,” I manage to say before my voice becomes wobbly. My eyes burn, and I know I’m about to cry. Blinking, I force the tears away. Crying isn’t going to help this, and I don’t want the twins to see my tear-stained face.
Fuck, the twins. They are still waiting out there for me, which means I have to face them very soon. What the hell am I going to tell them? Earlier, I was planning my future with them, but now I might not have one at all.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?
I can’t tell them I might die soon… I can’t tell anyone. I can’t make the words leave my mouth. Because once they do, that would make it real. And it can’t be, not yet. I want to live, damnit.
Okay, I won’t tell them, but then what? I can’t act like everything is normal, either. I can’t let them get close. I can’t let them fall in love with me just to watch me die. I can’t believe I’m even using the word love to describe what is happening between us, but what else should I call it?
I swore to myself I’d not fall for them, but fuck me, it has happened, anyway. And now this? Fuck…
There is no other choice. I have to push them away. They can’t get any closer to me than they are already. I will let them take me home tonight, but after that, I have to avoid them at all costs.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Come on, you can do this.
“Thanks again,” I force out with a smile as I stand up.
“Of course,” Dr. Pearson says. “We’ll fight this together, Emma. You’re not alone in this.”