The Boy She Saw in the Hospital

chapter 23- goodbye

Time of death. 2:47am.

Valerie Sprett died peacefully in my arms at 2:47am.

The antiseptic smell of the waiting room makes me go numb and I wipe the final tears that escape out of my eyes.

She's gone. Forever.

I feel nothing. No, I feel guilt for not feeling anything about her death. The guilt slowly takes over all my emotions.

I stand up from the chair I'm seated on and gather all my things. As I take my jacket from the seat next to me I hear a voice call out my name.

"Jacob Hiell?"

I turn to face the same doctor that treated her during her now-ended fight against cancer.

"After you left for Manhattan, Valerie started writing," He elucidates for me, "She wrote you a set of letters."

He hands them to me and I reject them with a blank stare on my face.

I can't accept that. I can't read that. If I do, she'll be gone. She'll truly be gone. I'll have nothing left from her. Nothing to read from her, nothing to hear. She'll just disappear.

The doctor smiles understandingly, respecting my decision to not read whatever she's written although it'll always be at the back of my mind.

"They'll always be here if you need them." He tells me with an understanding expression.

He places the set of letters that Valerie wrote for me on the reception desk, hidden under the books so only I know where to find them.

I thank him one last time and let out a sigh as I leave the hospital. My paces towards my car are slow as I don't want to sit there. I drove her to the hospital in that very car, I did so many things with her in that same car. It hurts me to even be near it.

I sit in my car and process all that's happened.

I scream. Loudly.

In this car I feel her presence. I feel her around me. I feel safe. I feel misery.

I allow myself to cry. Properly. Not like the silent sobs I let out in the hospital. I let out the flow of heavy tears that I restrained myself from ever releasing.

I scream and yell and cry. I do everything.

She never deserved any of this. She was too good. Too good for me. Too good for the people on this world. She had a sudden death, something quite uncommon amongst cancer patients. Uncommon, but still possible. She was affected by this and she shouldn't have.

The last conversation we ever had has been constantly on repeat ever since she's died. She loved me. I've lost my mother and now I've lost her. Who do I have left in this world?

The sky begins to brighten as the clock reads 6:34am. I waited in that room. Just thinking. I waited for almost 4 hours, hoping something would change, hoping there would be a different outcome. But no, she really is gone.

It's so silent without her. I feel deafened. I miss her voice. I miss her cheery persona. I miss her so much.

She would have wanted me to read those letters. I know it. Even though once I read it, I won't have anything else, there'll be nothing left of her. I'll still read it, because she wants me to. I feel her.

I get out of my car and walk back into the hospital. The same hospital where her journey started and also ended. The same hospital where my mother's journey started and also ended.

The pain I feel is immense.

I catch a glimpse of the doctor and give him a gentle smile to tell him that I've decided I'll read them. I'll read her letters.