Day 162

I didn’t really enjoy sitting in the hospital with Marc, but he had asked me to go this once and I couldn’t resist spending time with him. “I find it hard to stay positive when I feel like I'm not going to stick around very long.” With those terrible terrible words branded keep within my skull I didn’t hesitate when he asked  me to tag along. Gripping his hand something fierce as we walked into the adult cancer ward, I felt my throat start to swell and burn as I saw patient after patient.

Each one had a smile on  their face. Marc straightened his beanie and walked over to the nurse, who led him away to get prepped. I told him I’d rather wait in the hall until everything was complete-- too scared to see him hooked up to machines and monitors.

“Hi.” a bright female voice chimed behind me. I flinched and turned around, taking a few paces back from a girl with a hospital mask on. She was wearing a gown and bright orange slippers, her hair completely gone, and her skin was a deep shade of brown. I gave her a brief wave, nervously playing with the keys in my coat pocket. “Do you have cancer too?” she said as polite as possible. In her hand were several novels by Stephen King, Robert Frost, and of even a few pieces from Shakespeare.

“Oh! Uh no… I uh.. no..”  I stammered weakly. I wanted to tell her I was with Marc, but I still wasn’t used to admitting it to myself.

“Oh.. you just came to visit someone I guess?” she smiled, giving me a reassuring look. I nodded slowly and looked around wondering when the nurse would come back to get me. There’s something sickening about being a healthy person in a cancer ward. You can’t help them, you can’t tell them everything will get better, and you never really know what to say to them because you haven’t any idea what they’ve been through or how long they’re even be around. It’s almost disgusting to be healthy. I felt zealous and hot as I stood in front of the girl; she was about sixteen and just a bit taller than I was.

“Well… I like your hair. It’s really cool. Did you cut it like that?” she gleamed. I nodded and watched her walk over to a waiting chair, setting her books onto the table. I blinked widely trying ot make sense of the situation. Somehow, I found myself following her without even realizing it.

“Yeah… my boyfriend, Marc he--”

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed, grabbing my hands. I flinched away, wondering if my germs wound someone infect her in some way. I wasn’t used to being around anyone else who was sick, I didn’t know what to do and what not to do. I tried to calm down considering she had touched me first, but my blood boiled underneath my skin as I stared at our hands.

“W-what..?” I said quickly making eye contact with her.

“You’re Isabelle!” she screamed and I could tell her face was peeling back into one of the biggest grins underneath her mask. “Marc talks about you all the time! I usually end up being stuck in a room with him during transfusions.” she snorted as if there was something bad about that. “In the beginning, he was really bitter y’know? He wouldn’t speak to anyone about anything. He just sat and let it happen. Didn’t make eye contact or nothing… eventually he stopped coming around, so I had feared the worst.” she trailed off noticing the agony in my eyes. “But he came back.. and he wasn’t so upset. Well.. I mean he was  upset, but he was nice. He spoke to me, and asked me how I was doing, He told me stories about work and the city-I haven’t been outside in a LONG time- and mainly just how beautiful everything was y’know… he was just.. himself. Is real self.” she laughed, letting go of my hands. Waiting for me to say something I bit the edge of my tongue.

“Oh… well.. yeah. He’s changed a lot..”

“Yes ma’am! I think he’s happier. WIth you that is.” I couldn’t believe it. S**t. This girl had the highest hopes. She went on to talk about how Marc called me princess and that sort of thing, and then started talking about how she wanted to be a historian. She wanted to travel to Spain and walk down the streets, she wanted to go to Paris and take pictures next to the Eiffel Tower, and above all she wanted to inspire people.

“I mean… I am beautiful. I am!” she laughed, giving me a slight shove. I smiled and stared at my feet a moment, slowly rubbing my nervous hands against my jeans. “Marc told me I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.” she boasted about, crossing her arms. “But we all know that’s a lie… or maybe not y’know? I don’t know. Everyone is beautiful. With or without hair. Healthy or sick. Thin, fat, short, skinny. Everyone has someone who thinks they’re beautiful. Don’t try to convince me otherwise because-”

“Because it’s a fact, and you can’t change a fact.” I looked up to see Marc, weak and lengthy wearing a hospital gown. He finished the girls sentence with ease as if he had heard it a billion times over, and slowly walked over to greet us. His movements were paced and looked pitiful, veins bulging underneath the skin on his arms. I was a bit relieved to have his company; even if he was straddled to an IV and unable to really do much about it. He wasn’t wearing a mask however, so I guess he wasn’t as bad off as the girl I was sitting next to was… I hoped. Taking a seat next to me he threw an arm over me and cleared his throat, grabbing my hand with his fingers.

His hair was gone. Completely shaven. I didn’t say anything about it but he knew I was looking at him dumbfounded. I stared perplexed into his golden eyes, dull but charming as ever, and assured myself that this was the man I had in fact spent all my time obsessing over. ”They cut it off. I told them too.” he smiled. I smiled back simply at the fact he was still smiling after all this. How in the world was he dealing with this better than I was? More so, why was him having no hair so disturbing? I had found the will to chop mine off so his decision was no.different. I chewed on the inside of my lip and sat baffled as I tried to make sense of my own thoughts.

“I see you’ve met Laura.” his face was bright and lively as he switched his attention to the girl, who took it upon herself to grab my other free hand.

“Yes she has! If you don’t mind me saying, I think your girlfriend is quite lovely Marc Hanson. I might keep her for myself.” she snapped back playfully. Marc gave her a serious look before shrugging it off, lips peeling back into a deep smile showing his full amusement. Everyone but me was happy. Which was perfectly fine and uplifting in a cancer ward… but it didn’t make sense to me.

I just wanted to go home.

* * *

“I remember I was photographing this little girl a few days ago, and he absolutely despised the outfit she was wearing. It was like a floral dress… lacey and bright.” I started out quietly wondering if he was even paying attention to me. He was hooked up to a IV filled with some drug I hadn’t paid enough attention to remember the name. Marc was drowsy and had his eyes partially shut, dressed his ins unflattering hospital gown he settled himself next to me securely, one arm underneath me while the one receiving IV fluids was resting across my waist. I ran my hand slowly across his scalp, letting the small hairs atop his head tickle my fingers. He gave a thick exhale and raised his straddled hand slowly brushing his hand down his face in attempt to further wake himself.

I wasn’t exactly allowed to lay in his hospital bed with him, but with his door closed none had entered to say anything against it. He pushed his head against my chest and muttered something under his breath. I tried to dismiss it but it stuck in the back of my mind like a bullet. I swallowed hard and tried to continue whatever it was I was saying. “and uhm… she basically hated it. Her mom refused to reason with her, and they ended up having a screaming match back and forth in my studio… it was horrific to watch. So, after I realized I was already shaking I mediated the situation and told the mom to sit down, while I console with her daughter.” I felt my lips stretch into a deep smile. “So, the girl crying and aggravated told me she didn’t want to wear the dress. So I told her she didn’t have too. She was confused… but she understood after I found her something better to wear.”

“What was it?” he said deeply. I flinched a bit having convinced myself I wasn’t speaking to anyone but myself, so it took me back a little at the fact he really was paying attention.

“I made her wear this dainty little sun dress I used to wear a lot when I was little, and tied bows around her wrist to compliment the picture. It was a little faded but she loved it It was beautiful.”

“I bet it was beautiful” he said with a slight chuckle in his voice. I squinted for a moment before tapping against his head lightly.

“You weren’t even there. How would you even know?” I joked. He stiffened a bit and shifted against my to better fit my body shape before responding.

“I was saying you probably looked beautiful in the dress as a little girl. Not the photograph.” he said with a short  laugh. I smirked at the thought of me wearing the dress and figured he was right. I was a cute child whenever I decided to cooperate with the clothing choices of my mother. Curling my fingers against his soft head I exhaled for a moment and tried to find something interesting to say. Before I could open my mouth Marc twisted himself away from me quickly, almost throwing me over the edge of his bed in the process. I gripped the handles roughly and balanced myself as he threw himself away from me, the IV almost ripping from within his vein he heaved himself over the side of the bed and began to puke excessively. Without remembering it I found my hand jamming the button for a nurse to come in, my eyes wide with horror I tried to calm myself.

Nothing good seemed to last. Nothing,