Sunday, August 26, 2012

The Lines That Blur

Sam looked  up from her laptop. She was just getting to the good part of her story, and she really needed to keep writing. She hoped the doctor wouldn't stay long.

"Hi...Sam. How are you feeling." He asked, approaching her tentatively.

"Not great," She shrugged and gave him a grudging smile, "I have my work cut out for me, though." She said, gesturing at the laptop. It rested on her lap, and typing put her head at a bad angle. She was starting to feel the pain, now, but she was determined to keep it together, at least until Dr. Kauffman left. She propped herself up a little more, and tried to adjust her pillows.

"Allow me," said Dr. Kauffman, adjusting her hospital bed for her. Sam hadn't always been a full time resident of Grace Lee Memorial Hospital, not until a few weeks ago, at least. Her heart had taken a turn for the worst. It had never been that great in the first place; she'd had several valves put in at age nine. They were supposed to replace her regular veins, because they weren't pumping enough blood...or something like that. No one had really taken the time to explain to her. Something had happened again, now, ten years later, on the eve of her 20th birthday.

Apparently she had collapsed one day at breakfast, though she didn't remember anything before waking up in the hospital. It was a horrible place to live; the air was always cold, and there were always various  machines beeping away and making it hard to sleep. She sighed. The doctors had told her that something was wrong with one of the valves. Her heart rate was up, and only a steady drip from the IV kept it down in the normal range. Dr. Kauffman was here to tell her something, though. He never just walked in spontaneously. He wasn't a very spur of the moment man.

"We need to run another MRI, just too be sure that's the problem," He was saying, "and once we've confirmed it, we'll go in and fix you up." He finished with a smile.

"Does this mean I'm going to have to have another operation," Sam asked with a worried look on her face. She didn't like operations. Just one more scar, she thought sadly.

"Unfortunately, yes." Dr. Kauffman replied, pressing his lips together. "I know it's difficult, Sam, but we're doing everything we can to make it easier on you. On tuesday you'll go in for the MRI, and on thursday, if we get the green light, we'll do the, er, procedure. You'll close your eyes, and wake up here. It'll be over before you know it."

"That's great, Dr. Kauffman." She deadpanned. "Do you know if my family is coming to visit today?" This was a much more interesting topic. She'd wanted to talk to her sister; arrange some things with her.

"They haven't told me anything about today, but I'm pretty sure they'll swing by tomorrow morning to see you," he said with a smile.

Sam smiled back; it'd been a while since their last visit.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," Dr. Kauffman said, glancing at her computer.

"Yea, uh, thanks," She finished lamely. She was never sure what to say to Dr. Kauffman when he left. It was why she always dreaded him coming in. Not to mention the fact that he nearly always brought bad news. She'd welcome the day when the only thing he'd say was that she could go home.

Just a few more days, Sam," she told herself, "and then it will all be over." It was a shame about her family not coming today, she thought as she turned back to her work, she really missed them.


She hit enter on the keyboard to start a new line of dialogue. Blogging, and the stories she wrote, were a main part of keeping her hopes up in the hospital. It was a rather depressing place, she thought. Just a few more days.

Her writing was more important than ever now, she felt so dedicated to it, like she had a duty to herself and to her fans to keep going, but she was still trying to get over some writers block. "You're not going to write yourself, are you?" She asked the computer. "Yea, I thought not." She scribbled down a line, then deleted it. Nothing felt right anymore. Maybe it was the sudden tightness in her chest? Yes, it was definitely tighter than before.

"Nurse!" She took the deepest breath she could and yelled for help. Someone was there, trying to help her lie down, but it was all fading. Each breath was shallower than the last. "I'm scared," was her last thought before the blackness closed in on her, "what if I don't wake up?" Her question went unanswered.




The first thing she registered when she came to was that the tightness in her chest was gone. There was also a new sound, added to the medley of beeping machines: all keeping her alive. She opened her eyes.

"She's awake!" Someone said. It was Sam's sister, Megan. There was no one else in the room except her younger sister, just shy of nineteen herself.

"Who are you talking to?" Sam just managed to get out through her swollen throat. It felt like someone had shoved sand paper down it.

"Um, no one. Mom and Dad went to get some breakfast. We've been here all night, though." She said, running over to the side of Sam's hospital bed. "Oh, sorry," Megan started again, looking embarrassed, "the nurses said to give you some water when you woke up. To help with the throat. They said it was a side effect of one of the medicines they gave you."

Sam could only nod. When at last, Megan had brought her some water, she spoke, "Megan, I need to tell you something very important. Before mom and dad get back...I don't want to worry them," she added in response to the concerned look on her sister's face.

"But you're worrying me," Megan said.

"Yea, but you're my sister. I can tell you anything...right?" Sam asked.

"Of course, what did you want to say."

In light of last night's events, this was more important than ever. "Megan, I know I don't talk about my writing a lot, but it's been everything these past few weeks. I'm on chapter 41 of a...story....I'm in the middle of, and I...., I don't know if I'll be able to finish it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I might be really sick for a while, and I might not be able to finish it." Sam couldn't bring her self to look at her sister's eyes. I will not cry, I will not cry, she chanted to herself. But she went bravely on, regardless, "I might not even finish college. In 50 years, no one will remember me, but my blog will still be there. People will still read it. Books are timeless."

"I know they are, but you'll have the operation, and then you'll go home to live a long and exceptionally full life, so don't worry about it." Megan said with a smile.

"Alright, but hey!" Sam gave her sister a meaningful look, then her eyes softened, "If you ever feel lonely, just read one...or two...or seventy five." She said with a smirk.

"I didn't know you wrote that much!" Megan said, looking amazed.

"What did you think I do in here all day? Stare at the wall? Of course I've been writing. A lot."

"Well, no doubt. But seventy five... you should be proud of yourself."

"I am proud," said Sam, looking down at her lap again, "but I might not get to finish this last one."

"Why not?"

"Because...." Sam started, but was interrupted by the sound of the door sliding open. He mother and father looked happy to see her awake, but the smiles faded from their faces almost immediately; replaced by worry.

"Sam, it's so good to...see you again." Said her mother, giving another weak smile. Her father just grunted. Dr. Kauffman appeared behind them.

"Sam. You're awake." He looked strange, like he was just waking from a dream. "We ran the MRI while you were unconscious. The valves that were put in before are deteriorating...we'll have to operate as soon as possible."

A sickening silence followed this pronouncement.

"So, doc, what do my chances look like?" Sam said jokingly, trying to break the mood that had settled over them all.

He wouldn't look at her.

"...Dr. Kauffman..."

He took a breath. It felt like an eternity. "Not good," he said after a while. "I'll give you a minute." He stepped out of the room.

A strange calm had come over Sam. She didn't feel scared anymore... she didn't know what she felt. "Actually, I'd like a moment to myself, if you all don't mind." The voice that spoke wasn't her's.

When they'd all left, she reached for her laptop. It was sleeping, but she roused it with a tap of her fingers. Her blog was still open on it, just as it had been before...when things were better. I have to tell them, don't I? She posed the question to herself. She'd have to address her followers; tell them why she would suddenly drop of the face of the earth.

She pulled up a new post with the touch of her index finger. Her hands hovered over the keyboard; unsure of how to address the confession. There really was no point in keeping secrets, Sam thought, she wouldn't tell them the details, just...just... She started to type.

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"I guess this is goodbye, then." Sam said weakly,  looking up at her family. She was determined not to cry. She would be strong until the very end. If this was their last memory of her, she was determined it would be a good one.

No one replied to her statement. Her mother was crying silently, her father was looking like her was about to. Only Megan seemed calm.

"Yea," Megan said after a while, "I guess this goodbye." She inhaled, then let it out in a puff of air that ruffled a piece of paper on her sister's lap.

Sam was struck with a  sudden urgency. She took up the piece of paper, and a pen, and began writing furiously. She looked dangerously close to breaking. After a few minutes, she stopped, put the pen down, and folded the letter.

"This is for all of you," Sam said, handing her father the letter. "If I don't make it out of there...read it." She looked down. "I was never any good at goodbyes. I've always...been better writing my feelings than saying them. I know I don't talk about it much, but I wish I could have shared them with you. I wish I'd-" but she didn't know what to say. I wish I'd lived? I wish I'd spent more time with you? What do you say to someone when you know you'll never see them again?

"I love you." That was what you say. You say that. "And I will always love you, even if I'm not here to say it."

"We love you, too." Said her mother. "We love you, too." She disolved in tears again, unable to speak.

"I'll miss you." Said Megan, and only her eyes betrayed the sincerity behind the words.

"I'll miss you, too." said Sam.

They all hugged her then, and they were still hugging when Dr. Kauffman returned to take her away. Her family walked with her to surgery. No one said anything. They all looked at her, as if trying to memorize every aspect of her face. It was racked with sickness, though, and it demanded that one more thing be said.

"Please don't remember me like this." she said, "remember me how I was...before...all this."

"Of course, Sam. Of course we will." It was her father, this time, who spoke. "We will never, ever, forget you."

And then she was through the doors and into the place where only Dr. Kauffman could follow. He walked her to the operating door. "Sam," he said, "we'll do everything we can...to make sure you get through this."

She could only nod, even though she didn't really believe him.

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It was a long time before he stopped sobbing long enough to remember his daughter's letter, clutched in his hand. He unfolded it. "This is how much I love you," it said, followed by a drawing of a stick figure; his arms extended all the way across the page.

Her father softly crushed the paper in his hands, bringing his forehead to it. My daughter is dead, he thought, she's never coming back. And it was worse than anything he had ever felt.

Megan opened her sister's laptop. She remembered their hurried conversation a few hours previously. She didn't want to think about it. She tapped the keys lightly, to wake the computer. It was still on Sam's blog. The latest post, only a few hours earlier, was staring back at her from the screen.

"Hi everyone.... I'm sorry to tell you that I won't be writing anymore. I'm really sick at the moment...and I won't be able to continue. I would like to thank all of you for reading. Every time I see a new comment, it makes me really happy. You are all appreciated so much, and I will miss every single one of you. Thank you for sticking with me for all of these years, you don't know how grateful I am. "

It took all Megan was not to fall apart when she read the last words her sister ever typed.

"Lots of Love,
Sam"

"God, Sam. I really wish you could write again," She said, as she typed out another entry. Without her sister, she didn't even know how to begin.

It had been a long time ago when Sam had uttered these words, but they were all Megan had. "Maybe you should start with 'Hi'." Her sister had said.

"Maybe I'll start with 'Hi'."

June 25: "My name is Megan, I'm Sam's sister. I really don't know where to begin, but I guess I'll start with Hi. She always started with 'Hi'...."






The End.


Author's Note: This story is based of true events. No, not my own.... someone else inspired this tale. Someone who really died. I don't know why I'm still here at 3 o' clock in the morning, writing this...but I am. Because some things just come to you, and you gotta go with them. I've been sitting here for 5 hours, which is horrible considering I have to get up early tomorrow.... This is probably the 5th time I've finished a story, but I did it. Because I was inspired...by the girl who you know as Sam. I'm going to finish more things....and I'm going to write more. I'm going to do it because of her...because she taught me that, good or bad, the world needs writing, and you need the world. I wrote this for her because her writing gave me so many feels. And I'm not even ashamed. Even though she was very young when she passed away, that didn't stop her from making her mark on this world. And I want to pay her back.

This doesn't seem adequate.... but I hope some of you will enjoy this. I seem to be stuck on the death topic, don't I? Oh well. You'll definitely be seeing more of this sort of story from me in the future... I like it better than taking pictures with sims. I'm just not that great at it, you know? (This does not mean I'm stopping the Genetics Challenge. I actually sat down to write another chapter...but it turned into this... ehhh, I'll get you guys an update tomorrow, and that's a promise :D )


P.S: Feed the fish for me, they're real fatties ;D

2 comments:

  1. Very beautiful my friend.

    Death is a part of the cycle of existence, and it ultimately comes for all of us, but that doesn't make it easy to bear when we lose someone who means a lot to us.

    If you find solace in this, and enjoy doing it, then keep at it I say.

    ReplyDelete