Status: complete :)
I'm Frightened That I Won't Be Strong
5.
I was actually going to see him. After all the times I'd imagined what he looked like, I was finally going to see him. Of course, that meant he was going to see me as well...but I just had to hope he liked how I looked. I'd never had a boyfriend before, so I didn't know if I was good looking or not. My wavy blonde hair and blue eyes may be the classic look of "pretty" but I wasn't so sure. I didn't do much the rest of that evening, just lazed around; wondering how tomorrow was going to go.
At 5 in the morning, my phone was suddenly ringing obnoxiously loud next to me. I was about to turn it off and go back to sleep, but I glanced at the ID and saw it was the hospital. Dread, stone cold and heavy, settled in my stomach and I quickly answered my phone. "Hello?" I said as quickly as I could.
"Jesse." It was Linda, a nurse who was caring for my father. "You need to come to the hospital. He's not looking good."
"B-But...I thought that drug was working," I said, tears pricking in my eyes as I jumped out of bed.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"What...what are you saying? Are you saying he...?" I couldn't finish the thought let alone the sentence.
"He's asking for you," she said and I thought I would be sick. "He doesn’t have much longer."
"I'll be there as quickly as I can," I said, hanging up and pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before grabbing my keys and leaving the house that I had grown up in. I had been living in it on my own ever since dad was moved into the hospital permanently. I felt like my dad was with me that way.
I arrived at the hospital half an hour later and immediately ran up to my dad's room. No one stopped me – everyone knew who I was due to the countless times I had been to visit. I rushed through the door to my dad's room and stopped as my eyes landed on him in bed. He looked small – too small – and his chest was barely rising and falling as he breathed. I took a deep breath, fighting against my tears, and moved to his side. I reached and took his hand, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Jesse?" I raised my eyes to meet my dad's tired gaze. I sniffed slightly and smiled weakly.
"Hey, dad," I said softly, raising my free hand to wipe at my tears.
"Looks like it finally beat me, huh?" he said. There was a small laugh in his voice, but I found nothing funny.
"Don't say that, dad, please," I begged him and my dad smiled softly and shook his head.
"You knew this was coming, Jess," he whispered, his voice betraying just how weak he was.
"But...you can keep fighting," I whispered back, my tears now running never endingly down my cheeks.
"I'm tired," he sighed and I felt my throat contract.
"Dad," I choked, tightening my grip on his hand. He squeezed back, barely.
I spent the rest of the day at the hospital. Everyone gave me sympathetic looks. They knew, just as I knew, he wasn't going to last much longer. I was sitting in the waiting room while a doctor took some blood and checked his vitals. It was nerve wracking and then a nurse came in to get me. I'd seen her a few times before, but I didn't really know her that well. I followed her silently back to my dad's hospital room, where his Doctor – Dr Elliot – was waiting outside, a grave look on his face. "It's time, Jesse," he said. I clenched my jaw and walked into the room. My dad had an oxygen tube on, making it easier for him to breath, but I could still see the effort it took him to breathe. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I sat next to him again.
"I love you, Jesse," he whispered. I bit my lip hard before smiling and nodding.
"I love you, too, dad," I whispered.
"You have someone, don't you?" he asked and I knew what he was talking about.
"Yeah," I whispered, thinking about Nick for only a brief second before returning my attention back to my dad.
"He's good to you?" he asked and I nodded.
"Yeah, dad, he is," I smiled weakly, sniffing again.
"He'll look after you from now on," he said, nodding slightly, as though he knew it was true. I smiled slightly and nodded as well, while I bit down hard on my lip. I watched as my dad's eyes slid shut and his breathing slowed down. I kept my eyes fixed on him, waiting for him to open his eyes and smile at me. But he didn't. The only thing that happened was that the constant, slow beeping in the background turned into a flat line. I continued to look down at him, not really believing that he had actually gone. I had thought that he was getting better. This wasn't fair.
Six hours later, I stumbled through my front door. I looked around my house and shivered. Suddenly, I didn't feel closer to my dad here. I felt further away from him, if possible. He was gone...he was actually gone. I walked into my room to see my mobile on my bed. I hadn’t even noticed I didn't have it with me all day. I opened it and saw that I had 5 missed calls. Oh, shit...Nick. I was meant to have that webchat with him 5 hours ago. I bit my lip but my eyes were already falling shut. He would understand.
At 5 in the morning, my phone was suddenly ringing obnoxiously loud next to me. I was about to turn it off and go back to sleep, but I glanced at the ID and saw it was the hospital. Dread, stone cold and heavy, settled in my stomach and I quickly answered my phone. "Hello?" I said as quickly as I could.
"Jesse." It was Linda, a nurse who was caring for my father. "You need to come to the hospital. He's not looking good."
"B-But...I thought that drug was working," I said, tears pricking in my eyes as I jumped out of bed.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"What...what are you saying? Are you saying he...?" I couldn't finish the thought let alone the sentence.
"He's asking for you," she said and I thought I would be sick. "He doesn’t have much longer."
"I'll be there as quickly as I can," I said, hanging up and pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before grabbing my keys and leaving the house that I had grown up in. I had been living in it on my own ever since dad was moved into the hospital permanently. I felt like my dad was with me that way.
I arrived at the hospital half an hour later and immediately ran up to my dad's room. No one stopped me – everyone knew who I was due to the countless times I had been to visit. I rushed through the door to my dad's room and stopped as my eyes landed on him in bed. He looked small – too small – and his chest was barely rising and falling as he breathed. I took a deep breath, fighting against my tears, and moved to his side. I reached and took his hand, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Jesse?" I raised my eyes to meet my dad's tired gaze. I sniffed slightly and smiled weakly.
"Hey, dad," I said softly, raising my free hand to wipe at my tears.
"Looks like it finally beat me, huh?" he said. There was a small laugh in his voice, but I found nothing funny.
"Don't say that, dad, please," I begged him and my dad smiled softly and shook his head.
"You knew this was coming, Jess," he whispered, his voice betraying just how weak he was.
"But...you can keep fighting," I whispered back, my tears now running never endingly down my cheeks.
"I'm tired," he sighed and I felt my throat contract.
"Dad," I choked, tightening my grip on his hand. He squeezed back, barely.
I spent the rest of the day at the hospital. Everyone gave me sympathetic looks. They knew, just as I knew, he wasn't going to last much longer. I was sitting in the waiting room while a doctor took some blood and checked his vitals. It was nerve wracking and then a nurse came in to get me. I'd seen her a few times before, but I didn't really know her that well. I followed her silently back to my dad's hospital room, where his Doctor – Dr Elliot – was waiting outside, a grave look on his face. "It's time, Jesse," he said. I clenched my jaw and walked into the room. My dad had an oxygen tube on, making it easier for him to breath, but I could still see the effort it took him to breathe. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I sat next to him again.
"I love you, Jesse," he whispered. I bit my lip hard before smiling and nodding.
"I love you, too, dad," I whispered.
"You have someone, don't you?" he asked and I knew what he was talking about.
"Yeah," I whispered, thinking about Nick for only a brief second before returning my attention back to my dad.
"He's good to you?" he asked and I nodded.
"Yeah, dad, he is," I smiled weakly, sniffing again.
"He'll look after you from now on," he said, nodding slightly, as though he knew it was true. I smiled slightly and nodded as well, while I bit down hard on my lip. I watched as my dad's eyes slid shut and his breathing slowed down. I kept my eyes fixed on him, waiting for him to open his eyes and smile at me. But he didn't. The only thing that happened was that the constant, slow beeping in the background turned into a flat line. I continued to look down at him, not really believing that he had actually gone. I had thought that he was getting better. This wasn't fair.
Six hours later, I stumbled through my front door. I looked around my house and shivered. Suddenly, I didn't feel closer to my dad here. I felt further away from him, if possible. He was gone...he was actually gone. I walked into my room to see my mobile on my bed. I hadn’t even noticed I didn't have it with me all day. I opened it and saw that I had 5 missed calls. Oh, shit...Nick. I was meant to have that webchat with him 5 hours ago. I bit my lip but my eyes were already falling shut. He would understand.