Maybe You're Gonna Be the One That Saves Me

I was visiting the doctor with Mother. My fingers were playing with each other nervously as the doctor took a seat across us. I’ve never felt this before – being nervous to hear the report of the test. When I knew I was dying, I just took that news calmly. Calmer than I expected. I thought I would be crying and stuff, but no, I didn’t cry. I just sat there, staring at my doctor, and said, “Thanks for the report.”

Dr. Christensen opened the dark orange file made of carton and rummaged through the papers. She cleared her throat and started. “Well, Ms. Bernadette… The test surprises us.”

“What happened? What did the test say?” I asked.

“Apparently, Ms. Bernadette, your condition is getting better.” She looked at me through her glasses.

Mother and I gasped. “No way!” I squeaked.

Dr. Christensen nodded and pushed a paper in front of us. I didn’t understand what the words said, but she explained to us. I am getting better.

“There’s a chance to stop dying?” I whispered and felt the tears were threatening to fall.

“We don’t know what happened, but it seems your condition is getting better since 2 weeks ago,” she said.

“Two weeks ago?” I visit the doctor 4 times a week.

She nodded. “Does something happen? Like a source of happiness?”

I thought for a moment. I started dating Clayde 2 weeks ago. I pulled on a slight smile and nodded. “Does it have something to do with my condition?”

“Yes. If you have something that makes you happy, then you’re going keep it. By keeping it, you don’t want to lose it as long as you’re alive. Which means, you want to live longer so you can keep it longer.”

The small smile turned into a small grin as I nodded a little. “You’re right.”

She smiled again. “You’re getting better, BUT you still have the blood taken,” she said in a sing-song voice, and I groaned.

We did the routine and then left the hospital.

“You’re getting better,” Mother said in the car. “I’m really happy, honey.”

I went to Clayde’s house after school today. His house was really nice; not too big and not too small, not too fancy and not too simple. It was average, but I love it. I can feel the warmth of the family inside the house, not like my cold, huge house.

“Mom!” Clayde called out.

“In here,” a voice replied.

Clayde went to the backyard with me following behind him. Mrs. Winters was taking care of a pot of yellow carnations in the terrace. I saw a golden retriever lying on its mattress. Clayde petted its head as we walked pass it.

“Hi Mom,” he said and Mrs. Winters turned around.

“Oh hi, you’re home. Who’s the pretty lady behind you?” she smiled warmly towards me.

“I’m Jamie.” I stuck out my hand and she shook it.

“Oh so you’re Jamie! Clayde talked a lot about you. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

I giggled. “Pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Winte—“

She cut me off, “Ah ah ah. Don’t call me that, it reminds me of my ex-husband. Just call me Jude.”

“Okay. Jude,” I smiled.

“She’s gorgeous, Clayde.”

“Shut up, Mom,” he blushed. “Come on let’s go to my room!” he offered and took my hand as we walked back inside.

“No sex!” Jude shouted.

“Okay Mom!” Clayde replied.

“You didn’t tell me you have a golden retriever!” I said as we walked up the stairs. “It’s so cute.”

“His name is Robby. I named him.”

I snorted. “It sounds so lame!”

He gasped as he stopped walking to turn to me. “It is not!”

“It is!”

“Not!”

“Is!”

“Not!”

“Is!”

“No—“

“Cut it out!” A door across us swung open and revealed a girl at our age, looked like Clayde. Only her hair was black with brown streaks. “Ooh, are you Jamie?” A smirk played across her lips as she said it. I nodded. “I’m Emily, Clayde’s sister.”

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?” I asked.

“I go to private school. Unlike my brother, I’m really smart,” she grinned.

Clayde rolled his eyes. “Shut up, lil’ sis.”

“Oh, you’re older than me only like what? 3 minutes! Three minutes, Clayde!” she yelled, pressing the word ‘three’.

Clayde smacked her head. “Stop yelling, geez,” he muttered as he opened the door across Emily’s. “At least, not in front of my girlfriend. Come on, Jamie,” he said and grabbed my wrist, pulling me into his room and then he shut the door before Emily responded.

“Sorry, she can’t stop talking,” he apologized as he sat next to me on his bed.

“It’s okay. Your family is really fun though. Really welcoming.”

He smiled at me. “You never told me about your family. What’s your family like?”

I huffed. “Well, my parents are busy working. They’re only with me during breakfast every day, but they always try to forget about their work and spend their time with me, which is not working.” I almost spilled that Mother always accompanies me visiting Dr. Christensen.

“My house is huge, yes. But I prefer yours. It’s small but it feels so welcoming, so warm. Mine is like really cold… Huge house lived by 3 people? That’s something,” I told him. “Believe me, my house feels like… dead. It’s not alive.”

He hugged me and stroked my hair. “You can always come over here, Jamie.”

I smiled at what he said and hugged him back. “Thanks Clayde.”

We stayed like that for a few moments, until the door slammed open. “Holy shit – Clayde! Mom told you, no sex!!” Emily shouted.

We pulled apart and stared at Emily. “We’re not having sex, Em,” Clayde told her with an eyebrow raised.

Emily rolled her blue eyes. “I know you are going to,” she said and went downstairs.

Clayde sighed and went to close the door. “It’s hard to get some privacy in this house.”

“And I like that,” I said, “Because you’re not alone in the house.”

I stared to the ground. I’m always alone in my house. I spend my days alone, doing homeworks, watching TV, reading books… I don’t need to do chores because there’s a maid cleans the house. People want to be rich, but when they do, they hardly can spend their time with their family because their alarm is always ringing, telling them that they have works to do.

But honestly, I don’t want to be in the rich family. Deep down inside, I want to be in the average family, like Clayde’s. I’m jealous of what he has: family, friends, and most of all, life. I know I’m getting better, but still, there’s a chance that I can die.