The Resolution; partial draft
Well folks this is from an assignment i had in a writing class. Our assignment was to first write a chapter of a book then the outline five chapters. This is Chapter One.
“Ma’am, ma’am are you alright?” She put her hand on my shoulder and shook me gently. I looked up and slowly pushed my hair out of my face.
“Are you sure?” Softly I pushed the words out. “There’s no chance this is a mistake?” I lifted my crucifix necklace to my lips and kissed it. I prayed she’d tell me there was some mistake. Thing’s weren’t as she’d said.
“Ms. McMahon, our tests are 99% accurate and you’ve already had us run them three times. The chances we are wrong are as close to none as you can find. I’m sorry, but this is definite.”
“How severe is it?” I looked her right in the eyes. Dr. Santiago, the young, smart, beautiful oncologist. So successful, so gorgeous; such a bitch.
“We aren’t quite sure just yet. We need to see you again and soon so we can run the tests. Otherwise, we won’t possibly be able to know. Although, you said you’ve been holding off coming to see us for a very long time so by the sounds of it, it’s probably already spread. It doesn’t appear to have but there’s no guarantee. On your way out make sure to pick up some information from my assistant.” I stopped listening. She continued to talk but I didn’t feel the need to listen to her voice drone on when I was dying.
First I contemplated how. It wasn’t like I smoked, or went tanning or did anything else that caused cancer. Then I questioned why. Why me? Of all people, me. I was a good person; a good catholic, a kind citizen, a great friend. Why me?
The room bothered me. The walls were so pasty and pale looking. Anything painted a pastel color aside from a nursery for a child is just foul in my opinion. Everything looked so clean and glossy; polished to a shine. Everything was kept in these ugly cabinets that didn’t even match the rest of the décor. They were black with white knobs. Who in their right mind puts black and white cabinets in a pastel room?
I felt my throat dry up and the air I tried to breathe was stale and felt like sandpaper against my lungs. I felt my mind losing control. I couldn’t describe the feeling but it was definitely anger, but more concentrated in fear. Still my hands were trembling. I looked at the doctor who was still talking to me, informing me of things that wouldn’t save me. Nothing could; I knew cancer, it was invincible.
I looked at the beautiful doctor still and wondered how she could live with herself? She was beautiful and had a kind smile but how could someone so sweet looking tell people they were dying? How could she embrace her life so much when she had to tell people they were going to lose theirs? I felt like a bitch. I hated everyone, especially my oncologist.
Then, I began to question myself. 5’7”, short hair, decent skin; but nothing I wanted to be. I always wanted to be just like the models; Tall, blonde, and beautiful. I hated having such short hair but I got a haircut once a month because I never had the patience to let it grow out. I could feel misery creeping up inside me now. All my deep feelings were surfacing; things I had fought to suppress.
I felt the doctor’s hand on my shoulder shaking me. Her eyes looked concerned but how concerned could they be? She didn’t even know me and she would never have to, I was going to die.
“Can I go now?” I was blunt about it. I wanted out of here. I just wanted to leave and get to my car and cry. I stood up and smoothed my skirt. I had dressed my best, hoping for good news. I looked down at my outfit, a good choice. My black pencil skirt, white blouse, black blazer, and crocs; a typical me outfit. I reached back and pulled the little hair I had into a ponytail. My brownish locks were hardly something to admire. I looked at the doctor waiting for a reply.
“Yes, you may go. On your way out make sure you get our information packet on treatments and your MRI. My secretary will set up some appointments for you if you’d like; and Mrs. McMahon, I’m truly sorry. I know it can’t seem like much coming from a doctor, let alone someone who doesn’t have cancer, but trust me, I understand your pain. My husband died about a year ago, from a similar type of cancer. So take this as you will, but I sincerely offer my sympathy.” A few tears pooled around her eyes but she whisked them away quickly and breathed deeply to compose herself. She forced a smile and I compensated with my own. I turned to leave when she spoke again,
“I’ll keep in touch to check up on you. And honey, it’ll be ok. There’s a lot we can do to help you. We can fight this battle, and we can win.” This time her smile seemed real, like she actually cared. I turned back and hugged her. We held the embrace for a few seconds and then I departed. I wondered to myself as I stepped out into the lobby how many patients she pulled that with.
I walked up to the counter and took my file from the nurse.
“Don’t lose that, You’ll need it at your next appointment. Does the 31st work for you?” I thought about the date. One month on the dot? I wondered how different I would be. Would my already small breasts get smaller? Would my already slim body become sickly thin? I didn’t even know how cancer really worked. All I knew is what I had seen in the past. My aunts, slowly fading away like dust in the wind. I don’t really remember the stages but I did remember my Aunt June suffering beyond any imaginable normality and hitting stages of worse and worse.
“Can we make it two months please?” I figured maybe the extra time would either give me a chance to figure life out or kill me. Either way I doubted I’d show up.
“Ok, you’re all set.” She smiled at me and handed me my insurance card. I didn’t even remember giving her it. I took it and threw it into my new Coach bag. Yes, Coach. My brother had bought it for me. He was definitely financially set in life.
I left the office in a dazed state. I went quickly until I reached the lobby where I could see the doors to the outside. I just wanted to leave. This composed façade was quickly wearing off faster than I could manage. I was prepared to cry a river of tears that could support a salmon migration pattern among other things.
When I reached the doors I found it was raining out. Just my luck the one day I wear a white shirt and bright purple bra is the day it had to rain. I pulled my blazer around me and made a run for it. When I reached my Jetta, I threw my bag into the back seat and quickly jumped into the driver’s seat. I jammed my key into the ignition, turned my music up and peeled out of the lot of the hospital.
Swerving through traffic was something I tried to avoid but today I wanted to drive; drive fast and dangerously. I ran at least three red lights and cut off numerous people. I finally reached the highway and got on. Once on, I went even faster. Pushing ninety and weaving through and around everyone possible until I got hit with a major realization. I felt the truth of the day overwhelming me. I slowed to a steady pace of fifty and coasted down 495 like a senior citizen.
Suddenly I felt it. The thing I had fought so hard to suppress; reality. I couldn’t maintain it anymore and I felt it, creeping up like a spider I couldn’t kill, prepared to get me. I held my composure as much as I could but then I lost it. Tears began welling in my eyes and I couldn’t keep my focus on the road. Hands shaking and feet numb, the memory ended.
The usual traffic was missing. I looked around but could see no one but a car here or there, seldom passing by me. I pushed weakly on my hazards and when the arrows began to flash I felt myself begin to lose control. I stared blankly ahead then redirected my eyes to the darkness within my palms. I held my face in my winter cold hands and let myself go.
Even the warmth of my tears couldn’t make me feel anything beyond the bare numbness I’d succumbed into. Trembling, I fought for composure. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and breathed deeply. If I smoked, now would be the appropriate time. I ran my fingers through my hair, standing on the brink of insanity. I could hardly maintain the little control I had but kept my breaths steady and my mind calm. Resting my head back against the seat I let the memory replay itself in my mind.
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I was in the breakdown lane of 495 replaying the same memory over and over in my mind. I was avoiding tears but they pushed me resistance and came regardless. I looked around at the muggy morning. There was a thin layer of fog lingering above the ground. The fog somehow made me feel a little better, like I wasn’t alone here. I shut off the radio and listened to the silence. It crept around me, keeping me cold and alone. The fog wasn’t enough to ease my lonesomeness. I felt like the world was going to end then. As if to intentionally scare me, my phone went off. The vibrate was so loud it made me jump, startled.
I looked down and found my brother was calling me. I picked the phone up and answered quietly. I muttered quietly, trying to sound calm.
“Hello?”
“Hi, how was the doctors?” I listened to his deep voice. He sounded concerned and was clearly genuine. I wanted to tell him everything but I couldn’t. I had to stay calm and I knew talking about it would upset me.
“Are you home?”
“No, I’m at Melissa’s, where are you?”
“The highway. I’m coming over. Is everyone there?” He was at my sister’s and usually when one of us ended up at the other’s house, everyone else followed. My mom and dad normally were the ones who showed up first then we followed.
“Yeah, aside from Robert that is.” His tone was playful. Our brother was in Europe studying abroad. I hung up and got back onto the road. My whole body shook as I rushed to my sisters. When I got there I pulled into the driveway behind my parents car. I got out and grabbed my bag and the folder.
I walked in and found the family sitting around the table talking loudly. My sister’s new boyfriend was there and I still had yet to meet him. When I first saw him I didn’t think much of him but then he turned and I realized he was probably the most attractive man I had ever seen.
“Aiya!” My mom was up and hugging me. “How’d it go?”
“Fine.” I tucked the envelope under my arm and tried to keep myself from falling apart again. My whole family looked so happy except my sister. She looked concerned and she clearly was set on finding out what happened at the office.
“Sissy, what’s wrong?” You’d think after all these years, both of us being grown adults, my twin sister would use my name but she consistently called me sissy year after year. We all had weird ways of referring to each other. Her tone was not something I wanted to argue.
“Melissa, I said it was fine. Get off my back.” She got up from the table and came towards me. Her tall, beautiful body moved gracefully across the room towards me. Over ten years in the modeling industry she moved more elegantly than angels. Before I could stop her she was in my face, reaching at the envelope. I pulled away but she got her hand on it and tried to pull.
Our mother stepped in but we moved aside, sticking to each other refusing to lose ground. I tried to fight her off but she held strong. Our gazes met and we intensely stared into each others eyes, trying to break the other. For nearly a minute it went on until James, our brother, intervened. He pulled the envelope out of both of our hands and held it away from us above our heads so we couldn’t reach.
“Look girls we’re not going to play this game now are we?” He pointed his index finger in our faces and threatened us with glare. I faltered and stepped back, coughing hesitantly and looked to my father for support. He had his chubby hands interlocked on his stomach as he smiled his calm, awkward smile. His skepticism shocked me.
“Daddy can you back me up?” I turned and tried to make the face he’d cave to. He nodded and got up and walked over to where we were standing and gently pushed my sister away from me. He grabbed the envelope from my brother and held it beside his hip. I looked from his eyes to my moms, to my sisters and then my brothers. I looked back to my moms and knew she had figured it out.
When I was thirteen my aunt was diagnosed with lung cancer and a few years later when I was sixteen another aunt was also diagnosed. Those were only two of that many but knew my mom recognized the MRI envelope. I lowered my head and put my hand to my mouth, holding in the tears I knew would come regardless.
I felt a hand on my shoulder then someones hand on my back. I opened my eyes and my mom was rubbing my back and my sister stood in front of me. I was surrounded by the best family any girl could ever ask for. They loved me and cared for me unconditionally. I started to cry but it had turned from tears of sadness and misery to tears of joy.
“I love you guys!” I reached out and hugged my sister and then simultaneously my parents and brother joined. We embraced for a moment and then moved to the table to sit.
My mom stood beside me, hand on my shoulder and a quiver in her lip. I felt her staring down at me. I looked up and began crying again.
“Is it?” she was quiet but her voice was coarse with concern. I looked into her eyes and then around the room again.
“Mom, I’m going to die.”