Baby, We're Invincible

A salty tear managed to escape my tired eyes and I wiped it away hastily with a shaking hand.

I gazed at the thin, bony body laying delicately on the hospital bed, the white cotton covers folding slightly around the contours of her frame.

She was almost unrecognizable; you would have never known she was once a woman full of vigour, determination, and a strong lust for living life feeling nothing short of infinite.

You wouldn't have been able to note by looking into her somber eyes that she had once lived her life to the fullest, always walking precariously on the edge and hanging by a thread.

She seemed unbeatable, immortal, invincible.... Until now.

I continued to stare dismally at the menacing IV tubes penetrating the skin of her thin ivory arms, crawling up her limbs like a snake winding around its unlucky prey.

I couldn't think of another person so well suited to play the role of the victim.

Madeline had been in this same comatose state for three days now and counting.
It was torturous, watching her wither away slowly, the life sucked away unforgivably from her once supple limbs.

With every passing second, with every dreaded tick, the hands of the clock seemed to spin a little faster, waving Madeline goodbye effortlessly.

My eyes trailed over her gaunt, frail body ; nothing more than a ghastly white figure decorated with bruises and needles.
Was that all she had become?

Her breaths were shallow, causing her to seem almost lifeless, barely being able to note the miraculous rise and fall of her chest, a soft wheeze accompanying every breath.

Her limp, worn hand lay gingerly on a small green button.
That button was the only real comfort available to her; no slightest amount of ease could be found in soothing hands and voices when pain rippled throughout her body, convulsing her.

Despite the profound hope that she had held, that unbelievably strong grip on her life... she couldn't escape.

All the treatments she had received failed her, abandoned her, left her beholden to a sickly morphine.

In the beginning she had refused to even hear the name of the pain-reliever, but afterward she succumbed warily, not without feeling bereft of her vitality of course.

The endorphin-like drug relieved her of the searing pain, but it made no difference whatsoever.

It couldn't save her... and neither could I.

I sat by her bedside every day and night, mourning in silence as I watched her become weaker, thinner, sinking deeper into her coma-like sleep.

The chemo had left her once long, lush blonde hair reduced to dull, pitiful wisps; exposing large portions of her scalp.

And just like her hair, her porcelain face had long lost its colour, its radiant energy that accompanied her every where she went.

I longed to see that familiar blush on her cheeks, that wonderful liveliness in her light blue eyes, and that dazzling, contagious smile that I knew by heart.

I yearned to hear her melodic articulation, sweeter than any angel's song.

I frowned when Madeline grimaced unconsciously in her slumber, the ache refusing to leave her at peace even when resting.

I swear, I would give up everything just to relive her of the pain, to see a sweet smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

I wanted this more than anything, just to see her thrive once again.
I knew from the start though, it just wasn't within my power.

After all that she helped me realize... she made me change.
I had become a better person because of her.
Now when she needed me more than ever, I was useless to her.

Not being related to her also meant that I wasn't qualified to be her bone marrow donor.
Bu it didn't matter.

Her brother had donated his bone marrow more than willingly and I was so hopeful then.
Once the transplant was completed, we had waited many agonizing weeks for the smallest sign of recovery, a tiny spark of revival.

The only type of signs I received were those of a rapid downfall to the end.
She was dying.

It was painfully obvious.

I shut my eyes tightly, refusing to let those damn tears break out from their confines, where they were accumulating quickly, almost ready to spill over.

I wouldn't cry though; I couldn't.

Madeline had told me to be strong, even in the midst of all this chaos.
She told me to be strong for her because her own strength was faltering, dwindling to minute hopes.

If you could call morphine hope.

She demanded that I not cry because they'd be tears in vain.

She told me with the flourishing confidence she no longer held,"I'll make it through this ordeal whether fate likes it or not. I'll live to tell the story, I'll be in your arms again soon. You just wait. Have faith in God."

I could almost laugh right now, laugh in everyone's face.

How could I have faith in God now after all of this?
How am I supposed to believe that he'd save her when he chose my love to bear the horrid illness whose name took so many lives: Leukemia.

Why did God shine my path and lead me to this angel, when he would cruelly take her away from me so soon?

I just couldn't have faith now, not after all of this.
It should of been me, not her...

I had never realized how twisted fate could be until now.
How it could illuminate your life at one moment, brighter then it has ever been.

Then all too fast, it could snatch it away like a feather caught in a hurricane, tossing it into the heavens and forever lost to the world.

I forgot how unforgiving fate could be, how it could grapple onto your very heart and haul you away from those you love...

Fate, the very thing we wrestled, was now tearing up apart mercilessly.

I guess it got to my head; that empowering belief that nothing could ever harm us.
That we were nothing short of invincible.

Well, I was wrong.

My name is Kennedy Brock and the only person I'll ever love is dying right before my eyes.