The Wasted Days.

There was something about white that just bothered me. It wasn’t even a color. It was the absence of color. Yet, for some stupid reason, people still insisted on painting walls white. All of it made me cold. It was empty and it held nothing for me, as did most things as of late.

“Miss Harker?” a nurse’s calm, soft voice pulled me out of my introverted rant. Jared’s hand squeezed warmly around mine, letting go quietly as I stood up.

“I’ll be back,” I smiled, though the words were pointless and empty as they rung in my ears.

“I’ll be waiting.” His sad smile reverberated throughout my entire being. I had the urge to whisper sorry, but I didn’t open my mouth as the nurse kindly brought me away from the horridly white waiting room.

She brought me to an empty room and left, never once lifting her eyes from the floor times to meet mine. I bad feeling started to boil in the pit of my stomach. Now Jared and I were both waiting. Why couldn’t they just let us wait together? He was waiting to hear if I would live. I, however, had a feeling I knew the answer already. So, I waited shiftily to hear whether they would try anyway.

The door opened relatively silently, snowing me the doctor from before. The one who had led me through a series of tests. He reintroduced himself, but his name flew in one ear and out the other again. I didn’t care.

I was trying to make myself numb. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel the nasty blow he was about to hurl my way. The look on his face was enough, though. I already had the words memorized by the time he opened his mouth to say them.

“I’m sorry.” A broken feeling erupted inside of me and I felt the familiar sting at my eyes. “We can try to make you... make things more comfortable.” He watched me sadly not knowing how to comfort me. Awkwardness radiated off of him and filled the room like water, rising over my head and drowning me. I couldn’t take this.

I blew. “So you aren’t going to try?” I whispered, trying to sound more put together than I was. It didn’t work and the words came out in sobbed pieces.

The doctor was shocked. I could tell from the way his eyes widened and his jaw slackened, the slight fidget as he spun his thumbs around for a second. “I wouldn’t put it that way, Miss Harker. There’s just nothing we could do that would make it go away. It’s progressed too far,” his words were small and broken down, as if he were talking to a small child rather than a dying teenager.

I kept quiet.

“You can stay here. We can make you comfortable,” he said for a second time, almost desperate sounding. I shrugged. “I can go get your friend?” he was grasping at ideas, trying to find anything to help my helpless situation. I shrugged again. I knew I wasn’t helping, but I couldn’t stop.

He nodded silently, exiting the room. I was left to myself, drying my eyes quickly with my long, dark sleeve and telling myself to be strong. I had to be. For Jared.

Numb.

I had to go numb.

THere was a slight knock at the door, but I didn’t dare to look up. His heavy footsteps rang through the small room, filling the silence that seemed to follow me like a plague. “So what now?” he sounded angry. Why was he angry?

I guess I might be angry too if he were to give up like I had so soon, ruining every chance to get better.

I slowly lifted my head to face him. “What do you mean?” I asked, wide eyed. His vibrant blue eyes held such sadness, but his voice carried such rage.

What had I done?

A million possibilities flooded my mind.

“I mean,” there was an edge to his words, but he sighted and his shoulders relaxed slihtly. “I mean, what do we do now?” He sat in an overused and ugly brown chair, letting his head fall into his hands and his brown locks to cover his clenched fingers. Pain radiated off of him and clenched my throat.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak.

I moved to touch him, lifting my hand and extending my fingers, but then pulling back into myself awkwardly.

He slowly looked up at me, expecting an answer. I shrugged.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked angrily, glaring at me. “You’re dying,” he stated as if I’d forgotten, straightening his back. “And you don’t even care!”

I flinched, taken aback by such strong words and rage pointed towards me. I think Jared hadn’t meant to explode like that one me, but he kept staring at me. Waiting for any reaction. He had been so broken. He was still so broken. He’d been careful around me, building up pressure until he was explosive. A cannon waiting for a target to fire it’s frustrations at.

I stared back at him, stony faced, trying to ignore the sting his words left. They were so true. “Everybody dies.”

He exhaled and the gust of breath almost echoed throughout the silent room. I could hear my uncaring, uncharacteristic, voice whispering over and over again in my head, beating me down. Why would I say that? My head lowered until I was staring blankly at my lap.

The wooden chair legs screeched against the linoleum and my head snapped slowly, staring back at Jared as he slowly stood. Footsteps bounced off the walls as he walked towards me and wrapped his arms almost too tightly around me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, burying his face in my hair as I did the same to him.

I shook my head violently against the crook of his neck. “No. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.” I wasn’t quite sure of when it happened, but I was crying now, and my heart was beating hysterically against the cool skin of my chest. i bet he could feel it as I leaned into him and he picked me up gently.

Jared shushed me and silently moved until I was situated on his lap, my wet face still pressed against his warm skin.

I shook my head again, leaning to make a circle shape where our bodies didn’t touch. “But you were right,” I whispered, not moving. “You should hate me for everything I’m doing to you.”

Jared stiffened, and we sat close in the silence for a minute, not moving. Slowly, ever so slowly, Jared’s fingers pushed my face up until I was looking at him. Both of our eyes were rimmed in red and watery as we stared at each other. “I could never hate you, Salem,” he said seriously. He pulled me to him and held me there until I felt like I was a part of him and he was a part of me. “I love you too much.”