23: Decision
My chest closes as I sprint down the linoleum covered hall. The pitter patter of footsteps echo and bounce off of the walls as my foot makes contact with the tiles.
This scent. The scent of death.
It's so cold in this hospital.
The fluorescent lights overwhelm my senses. Blinding me. The overstimulation of my senses.
A large pulse.
Through the bustle and noise of doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors I can hear it.
A beat.
Badump.
Badump.
Badump.
I know she's alive.
A sense of relief rushes over me as I reach her hospital room.
Hooked up to a large machine in that room is Emma. She looked so happy to see me.
A smile took her face.
"Emma!"
"Nate,"
Before she could finish her sentence, I ran over to her bed and gave her a hug.
"Thank god you're okay…"
"Of course I'm okay! I wouldn't just die on you."
I kiss her and hold her hand, as I take a seat next to her bed.
"Emma, I want to know…"
"Yeah?"
"Is there anything you really want to do? Something that might be on your bucket list?"
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Well… I'd like to… I'd like to see the stars. With someone I like. I want to spend time with the person that means the most to me. And, I'd like to become a woman."
"Become a woman?"
"You know…"
Oh…
My face flared up red.
She laughed.
"I'm sorry, I was just kidding about that one."
"You scared me a little bit."
"How come? Do you not want to do it with me?"
"No! It's not… It's not that. I just… I'd be nervous and I wouldn't want to disappoint you."
"Don't worry," She rubs my head, "We don't have to do it yet. Just when you're ready."
I felt bad.
I should be grateful.
I always thought I'd jump at the opportunity to lose my virginity, but when it finally came up, I got scared.
I'm not being fair to Emma.
I'm not a good boyfriend.
I suck.
"Well, Nate, do you know what time it is?"
"Yeah 9:30. Why?"
"Nate, you need to go to school."
"But I wanna stay here with you…"
"No buts! You may graduate soon, but you still have to attend school!"
"Emmmmaaaaaaaa~"
"Shooo, go to class. You're lucky if you're let off with just a late tardy. You know how our school handles delinquency."
"Fine…"
I stand up and accept defeat.
' * * * '
"Hello, Mrs. Jones, I'm sorry to disturb your recovery but I figured while you were here, it might be smart to converse about our— your future. It would be wise that you start to come to a conclusion– a decision of sorts, about the surgery. I know that you're coming to the end of the school year, with college coming and graduation only a little over 2 months away, it would be smart to decide whether or not you want to move forward with treatment and life as usual or attempt surgery. There will be many risks with both options and it is something you should not take lightly—"
"I'll do it."
"Wait, Emma, isn't that a little fast?" My mom interjects.
"I already thought it over mom. What's best for me— what's best for everyone, is that I take this opportunity. It could help save me, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
"E-emma…"
"Okay Mrs. Jones… We will have a consultant come in and talk to you about how we will move forward."
"Thank you." My mom and I say in unison.
The doctor walks out of the room and shuts the door behind themself.
"Emma… you really want to do this?"
"Yes."
"It's really dangerous, y'know it could cause—"
"I know."
"Emma… what about Nate?"
"What about him? Last I checked, you don't even like him. Why do you care?"
"Because sweetie, I remember my first time– the first time I was in love. It was your father."
"Nate isn't like dad."
"Baby, you don't know what your father was like—"
"I said, Nick is not dad!"
"I… I'm sorry."
"I'm going to sleep mom."
"Love you, sweetie."
"Yeah."
I roll over in bed to face the opposite wall.
I hate that.
"Consequences"
"Risk"
I can't afford to think about that.
I don't have time.
I'm running.
I run and run and run.
And eventually,
I stop.
My legs give,
And my heart stops.
When that happens,
All that time that was spent running… will it have been a waste.
I run and run.
From responsibility… from truth… from consequences.
I don't do anything…
Whenever I'm confronted…
Whenever I'm required to pay for my actions…
I run.
I run.
I run.
I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run. I run.
I run.
Not anymore.
I won't let anyone allow me to run.
I won't let myself run.
I won't. I can't.
"Okay, Mrs. Jones. I have the sheet here to sign up for the surgery, your mom will do most of the paperwork, you just need to pick a date that fits your schedule best. We have some sets, but the sooner, the better. There are openings in March, April, and May. Those would all be on the first of said month."
"May."
"May? Wouldn't that be a little hard for you? You'd be cutting it close for graduation—"
"May."
"O-okay…"
And so it was set. I had made a decision. I made a decision without the help or guidance of anyone else.
If it went bad, it was my fault.
If it went well, it was my doing. My burden. Mine, and mine alone.
No one else.
* * *
When I got home, I went straight to my room and fell to the floor. I grabbed my chair to help myself get back up.
I was happy.
Whether the surgery was a success or a failure isn't what matters. What mattered to me right now, is that I enjoyed the rest of life.
I decided to shower to get rid of the hospital stench.
In the shower, I held onto a railing my mom had installed a year ago.
It was embarrassing.
It was cold.
I felt the warm water hitting my bare back and I felt my worries, my pain, washing down my body.
I looked at my body.
I hated my body.
People say I'm pretty, but I don't believe them.
When I told Nate that I wanted to lose my virginity to him, he lost it.
It made me feel… bad.
Like I was ugly.
Not worth it.
I gripped the bar.
I hate this.
I hate this feeling.
"I love him so much… So why?" I started to cry.
I let out a scream as I watched a teardrop fall from my face into the water beneath me.
Blue.
This must be what Nate sees.
Colors.
The blue of a sad girl. The single tear of someone with a hole in them.
"I hate this." I whimpered.
I looked at the reflection of myself in the water pooling below me and felt shame fill me. I kicked the water.
"Stupid."