The Ethereal Friendship

The Promise

Chapter 3: The Promise


         I wished I was Angela’s sister. We had always thought it would be nice if we both were sisters. Now I wanted it for a different reason.
They wouldn’t let me see her.
I had to be a relative.
She only had one relative, who was there already.
Angela’s aunt Francesca waited with me in the emergency room waiting area. She looked pale and worried.
We had been there an hour without any word on her condition. I felt sick I was so worried. Angela hadn’t just fainted, she wasn’t breathing normally, her pulse was weakened.
She was very sick.
And only an hour ago I had been mad at her over a stupid essay.
I was sorry. I just wanted her to get better. That was all I wanted.
Francesca and I barely spoke. We were both worried I guess. She was already at the hospital when my hopelessly slow bus finally dropped me off at the emergency room entrance.
I had run to her in tears, telling her all that had happened, and asking if she knew if Angela was alright.
But she didn’t.
She explained Angela had been taken to an exam room in the triage area where the doctors were trying to get her breathing under control. Until then neither of us were able to see her.
The hospital terrified me. Not just because I knew my best friend was in there struggling to breathe, but because I had never been inside a hospital before. Not even to mend an injury, or to see a sick relative.
Never.
The sights, sounds and smells made my heart race, and I couldn’t believe that Angela was here somewhere, surrounded by doctors who were complete strangers.
“Oh, Angela…” I thought allowed. I kept trying not to cry, but all I could think about was how I had yelled at her, and not noticed when she had fainted.
It must had happened after she smiled at me, and I refused to look at her.
Had she been scared?
Did she try to tell me?
What was it like to faint anyway?
I had no idea.
How could her body just give out like that? Why couldn’t she breathe? That was the scariest thing. What had caused her to stop breathing normally?
“Are you Angela Michelli’s mother?” suddenly a young, male doctor with brown slicked back hair, and wearing a crisp white lab coat appeared in front of us. Francesca quickly stood up at attention like a soldier.
“She is my niece. I am Angela’s aunt and legal guardian.” She explained. “Please, is she alright? What’s wrong with her?!” she cried then. “Miss….” the doctor trailed off, waiting to hear Francesca’s last name.
“Costa.” She said.
“Miss Costa,” the doctor continued. “I need to speak with you about your niece’s condition. If you’ll come with me…”
My heart skipped a beat when he said that.
What did that mean?
Was she alright?
Could we see her now?
Were they going to leave me here alone?
“Of course.” Francesca replied, and then to my amazement, she turned to me, motioning for me to follow her. “Come on, Marissa, honey.” She said.
Despite my worry, I hesitated. I was afraid of what the doctor would say. Sure enough, he protested.
“I’m sorry, only relatives of the patient can see her now.”
They were going to see her!
I had to see her.
I had to see if she was alright.
“No. Marissa is my daughter. She’s Angela’s cousin. She was there when she fainted, please let her come.” Francesca pleaded.
I wanted to run and hug her.
She was lying on my behalf.
She was letting me see Angela!
“Alright.” The doctor sighed, and lead us through triage where I tried not to look at the other hurt and sick people. They terrified me. All I wanted was to see Angela.
But we didn’t go to her.
Instead, the doctor took us up the elevator to the 2nd floor, where he took us into a closed off area with automatic doors, as he explained our destination briefly.
“This is the Intensive Care Unit.” He said.
I looked around, not seeing anything but white.
White walls, white ceiling, white linoleum floor that stretched down a long hallway. The letters ‘ICU’ were printed on the wall in big black letters.
I clung to Francesca, as if she really were my mother, and I was just a child. She held on to my shoulder.
“Your niece came in in critical condition, with respiratory distress, and severe anemia….” The doctor began, walking ahead of us through the halls, his shoes echoing across the floors.
“Anemia?” Francesca cried.
I looked over at her. “She kept having nosebleeds this week, could that have caused it?” I asked, shakily.
“Yes, among other things.” The doctor replied, seeming to like talking to me now. “Your teacher explained she had suffered a massive nosebleed just before that class. Is this correct?”
I nodded. We had moved into a private room now. I hadn’t even noticed, because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing about my friend.
Critical condition was bad. Even I knew that.
“A-and earlier this week too.” I stammered.
Francesca looked over at me. “When did she get a nosebleed earlier this week?” she asked me.
“Didn’t you know?” I cried, remembering it and feeling my stomach twist.
“No.” Angela’s aunt replied, seeming defeated.
“When you came to get her from school because she had a fever, it happened before then. Didn’t she tell you?” I cried, not believing what I was hearing, and finding this all very strange and terrifying.
All Francesca did was sigh, and put her hand to her head. “Four years… Its been four years…” I heard her say, despairingly, under her breath. I didn’t understand why she was saying it, but she looked so upset, and I was eager to finally see my friend, I didn’t want to ask.
I would understand in time.
“In any case, your niece was extremely anemic, and it caused her to go into shock.” The doctor continued, interrupting the tension between us, but seeming to understand Francesca better than me. I bit my lip.
“We gave her an emergency blood transfusion, and managed to stabilize her, but I’m afraid she will have to stay here until she awakes and is strong enough to be put in a room. We need to keep a close eye on her, and figure out what happened.”
“She’s not awake?!” I cried. It had been two hours already. She had to wake up soon.
“No. Not yet.” The doctor replied, coolly, walking ahead of us suddenly, and stopping outside a row of windows.
“She is in here.” He said, pointing at one of the windows.
I slowly came closer, and then I gasped. The room was pure white, with the afternoon sun shining through to the bed, a small bedside table on the right, and wires everywhere.
She lay in the bed, wearing an oxygen mask, and her body was attached to the wires. Two IV lines snaked out from her arm up to the IV pole which had two bags. One with a clear liquid inside, and the other was a deep crimson colour.
It was blood.
The blood transfusion she had needed.
Then, there were more wires attached to her chest, and a heart monitor beside her bed monitored the steady rhythm of her heart. I could hear it through the window.
But she looked so pale and strange, just laying there, her eyes closed, and her body invaded by tubes and wires.
I couldn’t believe I was looking at Angela.
My strong, vibrant friend.
I wanted her to wake up and forget this nightmare happened. But she just lay there, still, not sleeping, but away from the world. Somewhere faraway.
But the doctor had cured her right? I told myself. She’ll be alright in a little while.
Just a little while.
“Angie…” I said, putting my palm on the glass of the window. I blinked back the tears that came to my eyes, as I thought of the pain and fear my dear friend must had gone through that day.
“Hang in there, kay?”
“Miss Costa,” the doctor suddenly spoke up again.
Francesca turned to him. “Yes.” She replied, nervously. She had been watching Angela with me without saying a word. I wondered what was going through her mind.
“I must tell you,” the doctor continued. “We have to do further testing but this episode, as well as numerous other symptoms, very much suggest that Angela has relasped.” He said, matter-of-factly, leaving me clueless, but the look on Francesca’s face meant she understood. “Her white count is very low.”
Francesca gasped. “No, no, please, no!” she cried, covering her mouth. “Its been four years already. It can’t be happening again!”
What she was saying made no sense to me. What did she mean ‘relapse’, and four years since what? What was it I didn’t know about Angela?
“They told us after five years it would be gone. Angela is almost sixteen.” Francesca insisted, close to tears now.
I didn’t know what to do.
If I said something the doctor would surely discover that I wasn’t really related to Angela. If I was, I would know what on earth they were talking about.
But I didn’t.
“That is no solid rule. Remission can last any where from four months to five years. Sometimes forever. We’ll give her a spinal tap when she is strong enough to find out for sure.”
Remission, relapse, spinal tap, four months, four years…..it made me dizzy. What did it all mean?
What had happened to Angela four years ago?
I went back to looking at my friend through the window, trying to ignore the terrible feeling I had.
Angie.
What was happening to Angela?

         “They’re moving her up to the third floor. She just woke up, and is disoriented, but OK. You can come see her now.” A kindly nurse told Francesca and I at about 8 pm that night. We had been there since two o’clock.
I was so relieved Angela was finally awake.
I couldn’t wait to finally talk to her.
I had been so scared as the hours passed and she didn’t awake.
I had been scared the entire time.
So scared.
So very scared.
As we rode the elevator to the 3rd floor, I could finally ask Francesca what I’d had to ask her that whole afternoon.
“What did the doctor mean by relapse, and remission too? What does it all mean?” I asked, away from the watching doctors and nurses on the ICU who would expect me to know this.
“Angela’s OK, right? I mean, she’s awake and everything…” I added, quickly.
Francesca frowned. She looked weary, and a few years older then Angela’s young aunt really was.
“Marissa, honey, you have to talk to Angela. She has something to tell you, if she hasn’t already. I can’t be the one to speak of her private business.”
I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. Everything I heard that day suggested that Angela was keeping something from me.
Something big.
Something that had to do with the terrible thing that had happened to her that day.
But still, it didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to see her.
Awake, breathing.
Angela. My best friend.

         “Marissa, Auntie…” Angela said, very weakly, as Francesca and I came into her room on the 3rd floor.
It was a private room, pretty, with flowered curtains and a view of the lake over the buildings that made up our big city, where this huge general hospital was located.
She lay on the bed, the oxygen mask replaced with a breathing tube in her nose, the heart monitor and IV line were still there, but the crimson bag was gone.
Angela’s voice was hoarse, and barely above a whisper as she reached out her hand to us.
“I’m so glad to see you.” She said, sounding like she was going to cry suddenly. “When I woke up in intensive care, I-I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know what happened, or where you were. I was so scared!” she cried then, and Francesca held her.
“It’s OK, Angie. It’s OK now. I’m here.” She soothed Angela, who looked like just a child as she cried in her arms.
I stayed back.
I suddenly felt strange.
Out place.
And ill.
I felt like I was going to be sick. The stress of the whole day must had gotten to me, and I ran from the room to the bathroom down the hall. I threw up, and I always refused to eat anything if I was ever extremely stressed in the future.
And I was in for a rollercoaster of stress for the next half a year.

When I came back, Angela had calmed down, and was laying in her bed again. Francesca was sitting on a chair beside her.
Angela looked over at me. “Marissa!” she cried. “Where did you go?”
“To the…bathroom…” I said, slowly.
“We thought you’d left us.” Francesca said, teasing me.
“No!” I cried, forgetting my discomfort, and running to them. “I wouldn’t leave you, Angie! I-I’m so glad you’re alright. I was so scared!” I cried, tears clouding my eyes as I bent down and held her as tight as I could.
I cried in her arms, letting out every frightened emotion that had swept me up that day. “I thought you were going to die. You were so sick. Angela, I’m sorry for yelling at you this afternoon. I’m sorry I didn’t know----- I’m sorry!” I sobbed, uncontrollably, starting to shake and hiccup I was crying so much.
“Shh, its OK. I’m OK now. I’m sorry for worrying you, Marissa.” She told me, holding on to me too.
I pulled back.
“Please don’t say that, Angie.” I sniffled. It was weird that she was the one comforting me. She was like a mother to me, even though in a way we both didn’t have one. I noticed my hands were shaking. I felt shaky ever since I was sick to my stomach. I tried to hide it, but Angela took notice right away.
“Marissa your hands are shaking and you’re really pale. Are you alright?” she asked, looking at me with concern.
“Hmm, you’re right, Angie, she looks pale.” Francesca agreed.
The fact that Angela, who had been fighting for her life only hours ago was asking me if I were alright would had made me laugh if this wasn’t such a tender situation.
“I’m fine.” I said, softly at first, realizing I had broken out in a cold sweat. It was this hospital, and my friend’s frightening illness. I was fine.
“Don’t worry about me, Angel-girl. You’re the one who’s got to get well.” I said, smiling. Angela smiled too.
“I’ll do my best.” She said, smiling at first, but it quickly turned to a frown. Then there was an awkward silence, which Francesca was able to break.
“I think you could use a glass of water, Marissa.” She said, kindly, standing up from her chair. I didn’t protest. The water would help dissolve the bad taste in my mouth, and settle my stomach. And I could talk to Angela alone.
“Y-yeah.” I said, shakily, sitting down in Francesca’s now vacant chair.
“You gave Marissa quite a scare today, Angie. I think you two should be alone for now.” She continued, looking over at Angela, who looked a little frightened.
“Yes. I’d like that.” She said, recovering her strength.
Francesca left us then.
I felt a little odd to be alone with Angela in this hospital room. We both were silent at first. But I spoke up.
“Are you OK?”
“I’m tired.” She replied. “But I guess I’m over the worst of it.” Then she smiled at me, and I felt a little calmer.
“How long do you have to stay here?”
“I don’t know… I mean here, I shouldn’t be here too long, but...” she trailed off, and a shiver ran up my spine. I had since forgotten about the strange talk of ‘relapse’, and ‘remission’, I’d heard awhile ago, and how Angela had been keeping something from me. But I still sensed that there was something she and Francesca knew that I didn’t.
She sat up in bed, and clutched the covers, looking away from me.
“Angie?” I asked. Was she not feeling well again? She breathed in deeply, and then I saw her fingers go white as she seemed to hold the covers for dear life.
“Marissa, I…” she paused, and swallowed in. I looked around, not knowing at all where she was going, or ever expecting what she said next.
“I have leukemia.”
My world suddenly went blank. I felt like everything had stopped. Time, space everything. The hospital was gone, the room, the world. I couldn’t think straight.
“W-what?” I found myself stammer, my voice coming back to me from somewhere far away.
But I hadn’t heard her right. She hadn’t said the terrifying thing I heard.
My ears were messed up.
What was leukemia?
What was she saying?
I had no idea.
I scratched out the definition in my head.
Leukemia=cancer.
No! It couldn’t be!
Angela couldn’t have---
She couldn’t have---
“Leukemia… you mean… cancer?” I choked out, after my mind tried to find a way out of what she had told me. But there was no turning back. I was trapped.
Angela nodded, a tear coming down her cheek.
“I’m sorry I never told you.” She said, as the tears continued to flow down her face.
“W-what do you mean?” I stammered, feeling like my voice and hands would never stop shaking.
Angela had cancer.
My best friend had cancer.
What more could she tell me?
“Marissa,” Angela looked into my eyes, continuing to hold the bed covers. She was breathing heavily again, but I couldn’t tell if it were because of her illness, or the fear I saw in her eyes.
“Do you remember when we were twelve, and had just met, and I always wore that hospital mask?”
It came back to me in pieces.
The mask, the days she was absent, the time she wouldn’t stop crying… I remembered.
“Yes.” I replied, steadying my voice for the first time.
“At that time I was receiving treatment as an outpatient at the children’s hospital…” she paused, and it slowly began to sink in.
When we were twelve she was sick.
Desperately sick.
Was it because she—
“I was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia when I was twelve, before I even moved here.”
Hearing the full name of her deadly disease somehow made it even more scary. Hearing that she had been sick with this disease since before we even met, sent a chill down my spine.
What about when we thirteen? Fourteen? The start of this year?
She was fine.
She was the very example of health.
She had more of a love for life then I ever did.
Experiencing everything as if it were her first time.
Or was it… her last?
Was she…dying?
Had the past few months when she was ill been her last?
Was that what she was going to tell me?
I felt faint. The tears filled my eyes, and drowned my cheeks in sorrow.
“Angela no. please no. Don’t die.” I sobbed.
“I-I’m not going to die.” She said, reaching for my hand. “I mean, I’m going to fight as hard as I can… and hopefully win.” She reassured me as best as someone in her position could do.
After the fear that she had been slowly dying the last few months left me, and I realized she had only just been told of her condition, I realized that she had been lying to me. All those times when we were twelve that I had asked what was wrong, and she’d say nothing, or wouldn’t tell me.
She was lying.
But that passed.
I could forgive her for that.
It only mattered that she was OK now.
But there was only so much I could take. And what she told me next crossed my limit.
“My leukemia went into remission, (which means there aren’t any symptoms of the illness), just after I met you. That was when I could take the mask off.” She explained, still holding on to me, because she must had realized what a wreck I was.
“And then for the last four, almost five years I was fine. I was waiting for the fifth year, because after that amount of time, I would be considered cured.”
Cured?
I didn’t even know that cancer could be cured.
I thought that was why it was so scary.
Did that mean my Angie could be cured?
“But at Christmas time I figured out I hadn’t made it.” She sighed deeply, looking down.
Christmas time.
When all this started to happen.
Did she have leukemia then?
All this time?
It was almost February now. Nearing her 16th birthday. It had been so long.
“Marissa,” she interrupted my thoughts, speaking very seriously, her weakness gone. “Back then, I knew. The bruises, the tiredness… I had had it all before. But I didn’t want to believe it. I had almost reached a ‘cure’. I tried to ignore it.” Angela sighed.
I tried to figure out what I was feeling as I listened to her.
It wasn’t until she spoke the last truth, that I knew.
“The nosebleeds were something new. I knew that leukemia would make wounds slow to heal, and blood couldn’t clot… but I’d never had those. I knew I was getting worse, and when you begged me to go to a doctor, and cried, I was really going to do it. You gave me a reason to conquer my fears.” She smiled a little, but there was no way I could make myself smile back.
“You took such good care of me, Marissa. I apologize for all I put you through. I’m so sorry.”
But her apology did not reach me.
She had known.
That was all I could think about.
She had known she was sick.
All this time.
Every time I watched her become more ill, took care of her, worried about her… she had known something was wrong and hadn’t done anything. And now this.
She had almost died today.
Going into shock, not breathing… what had she been thinking?
Why the hell hadn’t she done something??
“You…” I stammered, standing up from my chair, and letting go of her hands.
She watched me, her face was still pale, she still wore an oxygen tube. I almost stopped myself.
But I couldn’t.
“You idiot!” I shouted, clenching my fists at my side, as I felt the anger and betrayal surge through me.
“W-what?” she asked, shakily.
“You stupid, idiot!” I almost screamed, but remembered where we were, and stopped myself.
“M-Marissa.” She stammered, looking hurt. “Why?”
“Why?!” I demanded. “You lied to me. You put me through hell worrying about you. You almost killed yourself!” I shouted, so angry and hurt I was shaking. I held my right hand tighter then my left, finding my hurt and betrayal flowed there. It had a mind of it’s own.
I’d always regret what I said—what I did next.
“All because you’re a goddamn coward!” I cried, and then I slapped her.
I slapped her across the face.
She looked shocked, and very hurt, as she held onto the side of her face with her hand that had an IV attached to it.
I breathed hard, watching her, trying not to feel guilty for hitting a sick girl.
For hitting my best friend.
“M-Marissa…” she tried to say, but I turned around and ran. I ran down the halls, the stairs and out of the hospital, crying bitterly. It was me who was the coward. I had yelled at and hit someone with cancer.
Someone who was my best friend.
But I hated her.
I hated myself.
I hated cancer.
I hated everything.
I ran to my father’s apartment, who took me in, no questions asked, and cried myself to sleep.
The next morning I paid for hitting Angela, because my mother showed up at my father’s and slapped me for not coming home. I swore at her, and she threw me in the car and left me at school.
I hated my mother most of all.
~

“Marissa, how is Angela? Is she OK?” the first thing I heard when I trudged into my homeroom class was Kari’s worried question. I rubbed my eyes trying to get rid of the never ending tears that felt like lemon juice stinging me.
Why did she have to ask me?
I didn’t want to talk to her.
I didn’t want to talk about Angela.
“Oh my God. Marissa, you’re crying. What happened? She’s alright isn’t she?!” she cried, and I hated my tears even more.
Now she’d never stop bothering me.
Still, I ignored her.
If she wanted to know about Angela then she could damn well go to the hospital and visit her.
I wasn’t going to do anything but put my books on the desk and wait for class to start.
“Marissa, answer me! You were there right? You must know!” she sounded like she was really worried and about to cry.
Way to go, Angela. I thought, angrily. You’ve gone and betrayed another friend.
That’s what I felt.
Betrayed.
How could she never had told me?
She was my best friend, she could had told me.
What? Did she not trust me either?
Did she think I would hate her because she had cancer?
No.
I hated her because she never told me. But hate was such a strong word. Whenever I thought of it I wanted to swallow it in my mind.
I didn’t think I really hated her. I saved those feelings for my mother.
Still, I couldn’t help but be angry. I had done so much for that girl. So very much.
All the times she was sick I took care of her, stood up for her, covered for her when she went home sick, telling her teachers even the ones we didn’t share.
But she just let it happen to her.
She let her sickness get worse and worse until it basically turned into suicide, yesterday, when she almost bled to death.
Idiot.
She was an idiot.
“Marissa!” Kari shouted in my ears.
Ouch.
I whipped around to face her. “She’s got leukemia, alright?” I shouted at her, still feeling pained by saying that.
I was angry at Angela, maybe I even didn’t want to be her friend anymore, but it still hurt to think she had cancer.
She didn’t deserve to have leukemia.
No one did. It wasn’t fair.
“Oh my God….” Kari stepped back. “That’s awful…” she trailed off. “Is she alright now though? I-I mean she almost stopped breathing yesterday…. Is that why she’s been sick so much lately?” Kari’s words got mixed up in her mouth, and she tripped over each thought.
“She’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking.” I muttered, although my hearth clenched as I remembered being unsure if my best friend would live or die.
“I can’t believe it. Poor Angela. She’s so kind, how could a thing like this happen to her?” she asked me, as if I really knew.
Yeah.
Why did she have to get sick when she was a kid, and then meet me? Meet me, and be the best friend I’d ever had, and feel loved for the first time, and then betray me? And get sick again.
I shuddered, and felt tears in my eyes.
“You must be devastated, Marissa. You two are such good friends.” Kari said, sadly.
Go away, Kari. You make me feel guilty.
“What is it? You seem so indifferent and cold. What is the matter?” she continued, looking at me closer.
I wondered if I should tell her. She had seen Angela keep getting sick and not doing anything about it. Maybe she would understand.
“She lied to me.” I mumbled.
“What do you mean?”
Suddenly I wanted to tell this girl I barely knew everything. I wanted to pour my heart out to her. Somehow I knew she would understand.
How Kari became the middleman between Angela and me, how she saved our friendship, I’ll never know.
But I knew I’d always be grateful to her.
“She knew for months, Kari!” I cried.
There was nobody in class yet. My mother had dropped me off at school before her work, so I was early. Kari must had been there for volley ball practice.
Which was good, because I was sure I was going to break down.
“She had leukemia when she was twelve, when I’d just met her.” I continued, trying to stay calm, but it was so hard. “She told me she’d know it had come back this Christmas, but was too afraid to see a doctor.” I stopped, and looked at Kari, who was shaking a little.
She did understand me. But maybe a little too much.
“Yesterday her illness had gotten so bad th-that she went into shock. She almost died!” I cried, tears coming down my face, my hands starting to shake. “I’m a terrible person, Kari.” I added.
“Why would you say that?” she asked, sounding just as shaky as me.
“I got angry at her for lying to me, for making me worry myself sick about her, and not doing anything to help herself. I called her stupid and an idiot.” I paused, wondering if I should tell Kari everything.
I decided to cut out the fact I’d hit Angela, because I did know that had been wrong.
I shouldn’t had hit her.
I hated myself for hitting her.
I looked up at Kari, and saw she had her head bent down, and seemed to be holding back tears herself.
“Don’t do that, Marissa.” She stammered, looking up at me, and she was crying. “Don’t be angry with her. Don’t hate her.” She cried, her own tears covering her face. It had hit her hard somehow. What had I done?
“She’ll need you more then ever now. Don’t wait until its too late to apologize. Do it now.” She suddenly said, firmly.
“Too late?” I asked.
“Angela has cancer.” Was all she said in reply.
The translation was she could die before I got the chance.
~

Hikari

         “Angela?” Hikari Tanabata, (AKA, Kari) asked as she came into the private hospital room on the third floor, overlooking the lake.
Angela Michelli, the quiet, but well respected girl that shared each of her classes, lay in the hospital bed looking out the window at the streets below. She didn’t notice she had a visitor.
Kari breathed in, deeply, wondering if she could face the illness that tore her family apart again.
Angela had leukemia.
It was frightening to think a girl her own age had cancer. A girl as kind and talented as Angela was.
Angela turned around when Kari had called her name, and managed a weak smile.
“Hello, Kari.” She said.
“Hi, Angela.” Kari replied, not feeling as confident as she usually was.
“Are you up for a visitor?” she continued.
“Of course, thank you.” Angela said, but she didn’t smile. Kari thought she knew why the girl was sad, and it wasn’t just because she was sick.
Hurry up, Marissa. She thought, trying not to be angry with the girl who was quickly making the same mistake as she did years ago. She would hurt Marissa if she truly abandoned her friend, she thought as she saw Angela’s sad eyes in front of her. But the truth was she didn’t believe Marissa would do that. She was stronger then herself, and Kari had done what she could to help her understand the type of grave mistake she was making.
“Marissa told me about your illness. I’m so sorry, Angela.” Kari said, for lack of much else to say. “The whole 10th grade is thinking about you.” She added.
“You talked to Marissa?” Angela asked, like Kari knew she would.
“Yes.”
“Was she… upset?”
“She’s more upset over what she did to you.”
Marissa thought she was a terrible person for hurting Angela. She had told Kari everything in tears. There was deep regret inside the girl’s heart. Kari could see it.
“She was right though.” Suddenly Angela said, distantly, looking out the window again.
“No, Angela---“ Kari tried to protest, but Angela cut her off.
“I am stupid for leaving it this long. I’m stupid for pretending it would just go away, and I’m a coward too. Marissa was right. I’m terrible for lying to her, and making her worry. She should hate me!” she cried, turning back toward Kari, and she was crying.
“I’d rather have leukemia then lose her as my friend. Now I’ve been given both. I-I don’t know what to do!” she sobbed, burying her head in her knees.
Kari’s heart ached for the girl. She wanted to do something. She wanted to do more then her words could. She wanted to somehow reunite the two best friends, and stop their pain.
Kari admired Angela and Marissa. She even envied them. Their friendship was so strong, and there wasn’t anyone who didn’t know that Marissa Collins and Angela Michelli were best friends. They took care of each other, and now Marissa would have to do even more. But their friendship was in danger of breaking in more ways then one.
She came over and hugged Angela, holding her as she cried. At one time Kari only knew her from a distance, now she felt closer to Angela as a friend then ever before.
“Angela,” she started to say, but Angela was having trouble stopping crying. Kari held the girl’s shoulders, and had her look in her eyes.
“I know what Marissa is going through.” She said. “I know why she’s upset.” She looked down, taking a deep breath. “Because I’ve felt the same way too.”
Kari would never had told anyone her one secret before that day. She had kept it inside her for four years. But these two girls needed to know it. Maybe that was why Kari was meant to experience it.
“You do?” Angela asked, shakily.
“Yes.” She replied. “Because I did the same thing...” She swallowed hard, the memory still making her throat close up. “…To my father.”
“What?” Angela sniffled.
Kari took a deep breath, and started to tell Angela what she’d told Marissa that morning. “When I was twelve, my father was diagnosed with a brain tumor.” She started, shakily. “I really didn’t understand what that was, but I knew my father was sick. It was really hard on us all. He couldn’t go to work, and he was grumpy a lot because he was always in pain.
Then one day he stopped going to the doctors and the hospital, and took us on a trip. My three brothers knew the truth, my mother knew the truth, but I didn’t. I loved my father and was just happy to be spending time with him. It didn’t matter that he’d taken us all out from school, and he had stopped work, (and we’re Japanese, Angela, and Japanese never take time off for work, or pull their children from school for frivolous things like trips to the beach), it just mattered that to me, he wasn’t sick anymore, and we were all together as a family.”
Kari paused, and saw that Angela was listening intently, as she gathered up enough courage to go on. She smiled a little, as some of her next memory was pleasant and uplifting.
“I’ll always remember the one night he and I were sitting on the beach looking up at the stars. He told me that my name, Hikari, which means ‘bright’ was inspired by the stars that shone their brightest when I was born. Our last name is the name of a festival in Japan called Tanabata- Star Festival. He said I was his Bright Star.
“I’m so glad you’re not sick anymore, daddy. Let’s stay on this beach forever, OK?” I had said to him that night, not at all expecting anything more. But there was.
My father told me that he was still sick, and there was nothing more the doctors could do for him, so he was spending his time with our family instead of going through endless treatments.”
“I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. My father was still sick, and he was letting himself just die. He had never told me anything, but my family knew. He had lied to me, and it hurt. I told him I hated him, and I ran off the beach.”
“Angela, I didn’t speak to him for days, I was so hurt and angry. My brothers, who are quite a bit older then me tried to get me to forgive him, but I wouldn’t listen to them.” Kari stopped, wondering if the end of her story, a story she had lived, was really appropriate to tell Angela.
She had made Marissa cry more when she told her, and then she left school to visit Angela, determined to stop their feud once and for all. She would not let it happen again.
Kari did stop there. She couldn’t speak of her horrible mistake and her father’s death to a girl who was terminally ill too. But Angela caught on.
“You didn’t forgive him in time, did you?” she said, seriously.
Kari started to cry as she nodded, the terrible memories flooding her, and shattering her heart.
“You don’t want Marissa to make the same mistake…with me…” she trailed off.
Kari felt guilty all of a sudden, for making Angela think about death.
“I’m sorry, Angela, I-I didn’t want to frighten you.” She stammered.
“It’s alright. I don’t mind speaking about death.” Angela said, softly. “My mother and father are both dead, and some of the kids at the children’s hospital I stayed at when I first got sick have died, and I’ve faced death before.”
“You have…?” Kari couldn’t imagine what it must be like to see death in front of her. She was just sixteen. Dying wasn’t real to her.
“In Italy I was very sick. The treatments weren’t working, they were making me worse. When I was in the intensive care unit, more or less waiting for my death, my father was rushing to see me. We lived far from the hospital I was in. It was the only one that had the facilities I needed besides the children’s cancer center near Rome. We lived in Venice.”
“My father was…” Angela had a hard time continuing, and Kari could mildly understand why. She hadn’t forgiven her father before he died, and Angela believed she was the reason hers was killed.
“He was killed in a car accident on the way to see me.” Angela said, sadly. “I only found out a few days later. The doctors couldn’t tell me when I was so sick.”
“Then I basically lost the will to live anymore, and my illness worsened accordingly. If my aunt hadn’t arrived, causing me to think she was my mother in my delirious condition, I probably wouldn’t be here now.” She finished, quietly.
“I-I can’t believe what you’ve been through, Angela. It doesn’t seem real. You’re such a nice girl, I’d never think any of that had ever happened to you.” Kari cried, feeling shocked and shaky to hear this girl’s tragic story. She couldn’t imagine having leukemia, but losing her father and having leukemia was unreal. Until she learned Angela had lived it.
“It’s been so long since all that happened. Even I think it’s a nightmare sometimes.” Angela continued, looking down.
“My aunt looks after me now. She lives here for her work so she brought me here after I lost my dad.” Angela sighed, but continued. “But it was coming here that saved my life. I was put in the children’s hospital here, and I had the most amazing nurse.” She smiled a little then. “She was Japanese like you.”
“Really?” Kari spoke up. “She’s not Nikko Naruse is she?” she asked, really not expecting Angela to know who she was talking about.
“You know her?!” Angela cried.
“Ahh! It is her?!” shouted Kari, and Angela put her finger to her lips, indicating her to quiet down.
Nikko Naruse was Kari’s mother’s friend. Kari had sometimes babysat Nikko’s cute little boy, Tomoya. She knew that Nikko was a nurse, but had no idea she worked at the children’s hospital. What were the odds that Angela knew her too?
She hadn’t seen Nikko lately though. Apparently her son wasn’t feeling well, and she didn’t call her to baby-sit anymore. Kari hoped the little boy was OK. He was so cute.
“Wow, small world.” Kari grinned. Angela nodded, but then frowned.
“They’re moving me back to that children’s hospital this afternoon. They have to do tests on me there, and it will most likely be where I’ll stay for now…” she started.
“Oh…” Kari said in reply, realizing Angela was really going to be put through the painful and frightening treatments for cancer soon.
She was only at this hospital recovering from the terrible thing that had happened to her the day before. Then she would go.
“Can you tell Marissa for me tomorrow?” she asked, sounding sad again to be speaking about the girl who should be here with them. “I called her, but I don’t know if she’ll get the message.” She sighed.
Kari sighed too. School was still going. She had cut class to come to this hospital. For all she knew Marissa was still at school.
“Of course.” She said, hiding her worry. “Marissa will come back to you.” She suddenly found herself saying. “I’ve made sure of it. She’s not going to leave you alone here anymore.”
Angela smiled up at her, her eyes filling with tears.
“Thank you for all you’ve done, Hikari. You’ve been a real comfort to me.” She said.
“What do you know,” Kari said, doing her best to smile.
“You can pronounce my name.”


Marissa

         I went through school that day in a trance. Kari was gone. She had left class to see Angela. Why wasn’t I doing that? What was wrong with me? How could I just leave my best friend alone in a hospital?
Kari’s story had frightened me. It had made me realized the true error of my ways. I wouldn’t let Angela die, never-less not apologize for what I’d done to her. I couldn’t let that happen. But I was scared. I had yelled at her, called her an idiot, and hit her. Why would she ever forgive me? She probably hated me.
That was what she probably told Kari who came back to school and ignored me the rest of the day, her eyes cold and unforgiving.
I didn’t care.
She could hate me all she wanted.
I already hated myself.
But not Angela.
I didn’t want to lose her.
Not to cancer, and not to my own stubbornness.
But I was the coward. The real coward.
I ran away from Kari after school when she desperately tried to tell me something. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to hear what a bad person I was, or how much I’d hurt Angela.
I already knew.
~

I came home to my mother demanding where I had been the night before.
I wished she would disappear.
Being motherless like Angela, sounded better then having my own mother.
I hated her.
“Did you stay out all night at some boy’s?” my mother demanded.
“No.” I muttered, trying to get passed her and run up to my room where I could cry forever.
“Then where were you?!” she shouted.
Would she even believe me if I told her?
Why couldn’t my damn father had called her?
He saw I was upset.
He was useless.
“With Angela!” I finally shouted back at her.
“Don’t give me that, Marissa. That girl would never stay out all night.”
Oh, and I would, I thought, angrily to myself, because I was almost sixteen, and I had never stayed out all night.
“You want to know where I was, mother?” I demanded.
“Yes, I do.” She replied, sternly, putting her hands on her hips.
I looked around, trying desperately to figure a way out.
She would never believe me.
She would tell me I was lying if I said I was at a hospital discovering my best friend was seriously ill.
So I said what she wanted.
“I went partying.” I mumbled. “Now can you ground me so I can get on with my life?”
Suddenly I saw stars as she slapped me on the face.
“Don’t you speak to me that way, Marissa, so help me God!”
That was all I could take, and holding on to the right side of my face I burst into tears.
This is what I had done to Angela.
This humiliation.
This painful humiliation.
I wanted to die, I felt such hatred for myself and my mother in front of me.
I couldn’t go through it anymore. It hurt too much.
“I was at the hospital!” I cried, tears coming down my face for what had to be the 100th time that day.
“With Angela.
She collapsed in class.
She’s sick.
She has leukemia.
She lied to me.
I yelled at her.
I hit her.
I hate myself!” I screamed, struggling away from my mother who looked shocked. I continued to cry, sinking to my knees by her legs.
“Angela Michelli…your friend…has leukemia?” she stammered.
My mother knew Angela as ‘my friend who was better then me.’ At least, that was the impression I got from her. I didn’t need her to tell me that though. I already knew.
“I-I didn’t know…” she said, shakily.
I looked up at her for the first time. “Neither did I.”
“I stayed at Daddy’s. He was so close. I-I was a wreck, I could never had made it home or called you. I’m sorry, alright?” I cried, wishing that yesterday had never happened.
That Angela was well, and always had been well, and Kari would put her on the volley ball team, and things would be good.
I told my mother what I did to Angela. We sat at the kitchen table and I was still crying a little, when she reached for my hand and clutched it.
It was the closest my mother had ever gotten to me.
I wanted her to hold me forever. To take me in her arms so I could cry like a baby.
But that was the best I got.
“I understand you’re hurting, Marissa, but Angela is going to need you the most now. To lose her over a mistake she made in her past would be terrible.”
“You love Angela, I can tell. She is your best friend. Give her a second chance. Don’t you think she’d give one to you?”
I nodded, but felt more tears as my guilt tore a hole in my heart.
“But I’m scared.” I whispered. “What if she can’t forgive me? I hurt her so bad.” I sniffled, as the tears came down my cheeks.
“If she cares about you as much as you care about her, then she will forgive you.” My mother said, and then I actually thought she was going to hug me.
She stood up in her chair, and I automatically did so too, then we both moved closer, and…
The phone rang. And she stopped.
“Well, you’d better get going. You want to get there before visiting hours are over, right?”
I nodded, rushing to get my shoes back on as the phone continued to ring.
My mom was ignoring it too.
I think something happened between us that night. Maybe because I showed my mother my true emotions, which I rarely did, or maybe because she had hit me twice, which she had never done, or maybe it was just a bond that should had existed between a mother and hurting daughter.
Whatever it was, my mother usually would have jumped for that phone.
It had been someone from my mother’s work, a law firm which was usually much more important then me. (Now do you see why the court battles for my parent’s divorce went on forever?)
I was reaching for the door knob when my mother rewound and played back the messages.
What I heard would stay with me forever.

“Marissa, it’s me, Angela. I don’t know if you’ll get this. You must be in school. I’m calling to tell you I’m leaving the hospital this afternoon and moving to ‘Sick Kids’.
I’m having one final test to confirm that I have leukemia again and.…..”

Angela

Angela turned over in her bed as the cold hands of the unfamiliar nurses guided her to do. She faced the window, laying on her side, as her aunt held on to her hands. She closed her eyes, trying not to remember the pain of the procedure she was about to endure from when she was twelve.
I’m fifteen now, almost sixteen. It won’t hurt me. I won’t cry out. I’ll be brave…
“OK, Anjira, deep breath now.” She heard a voice that was familiar to her.
Her mispronounced name…The soft hands….
“Nikko…” she whispered, breathing in as she was instructed to. She tried to smile at the familiar nurse she now saw in front of her, but then the pain started as the needle was inserted into the small of her back. She squeezed her eyes shut, she clenched her teeth, and clutched her aunt’s hands as she felt the pain shoot up her back and shoulders, and then start to tighten as her doctor started to slowly bring the syringe back out. Then she couldn’t fight it anymore. Angela cried out in pure anguish, holding her aunt’s hands so tight they went numb.
Her screams echoed into the halls of the hospital and far into the night.

Marissa

I ran to the subway stop, thanking God I was in time, because I didn’t want to miss visiting hours which must be finishing soon.
Hold on, I’m coming, Angie.
I heard her voice in my mind again through the answering machine….

“I don’t know what room I’ll be in, but it’ll be the 9th floor—the oncology floor--I’m sure a nurse will help you…”


Angela

“Its best to leave her be right now. Even the slightest movement will cause her tremendous pain.” Angela’s doctor, Doctor Alba explained to Francesca.
She watched her niece laying on her side, alone, in the exam room, terrified to move, and blinked back tears.
Marissa, where are you? How could you do this to her?

Marissa

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I said to myself, breathless, as I ran through the halls to find the exam room the nurse at the front desk had told me Angela was in.
Wait for me… I thought, climbing the stairs.
Please wait…

“I’m sorry, Marissa. I did wrong to keep this from you. I should have told you when we met. I shouldn’t had lied to you, or ignored my illness when you were so worried about me.
Please forgive me. Forgive me.
Because right now, I—I need you.” The message ended there.

I pushed open the heavy door to the darkened exam room. It was completely dark. There were no lights except the glow of the moonlight.
That was how I saw her.
Streaked in moonlight.
Pale, fragile.
Her back turned to me.
“She is in a lot of pain, try not to let her move.” The voice of Francesca came back to me as I crossed the room toward her.
I won’t hurt you… I thought to myself.
I won’t hurt you again.
I came around to the other side of her bed, trying not to make a sound.
She was staring straight ahead, her eyes seeming somewhat vacant. I watched her, but I couldn’t move.
I felt paralyzed.
Then she looked up at me. Neither of us said a word.
I sat on the side of the bed, wanting to apologize for hurting her, hold on to her, and never leave her alone again. But I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t move.
Then she started to struggle to get up, her every move seeming to pain her. I wanted to protest, but then she had her arms around me, and she was crying.
“You came back...” She whispered, her voice weak, and suggesting of how much she was hurting.
“Don’t leave me again, Marissa.” She whimpered, her body tensing up, and she held me tighter. “I need you.”
I held her back then. I had been resisting, not wanting to hurt her, but she was willing to sacrifice that pain.
“I’ll never leave you alone here again.” I told her, holding back the tears that threatened to swallow me up.
“I’ll be here for you. Every day. No matter what.” I promised her, and the moon outside was my witness.
“Every day…”
It was a promise I would keep, only breaking it once for a very understandable reason.
I promised her and myself that night that I’d never leave her alone.
What powerful words they were.
~~