The Ethereal Friendship

I want to live

Marissa

I returned to school the next day with a heavy heart and as far as I knew Angela returned to the oncology floor.

Everybody asked me why I hadn’t brought Angela to school with me, and I had to tell them the bad news. Not that she would have come to class with me anyway. She was too exhausted for anything like that, and now she was too sick. I was tired too. I hadn’t slept at all that night from worrying about Angela. So I cut my last class and let myself into my dad’s lonely apartment and took a nap before I would have to make my usual journey to the children’s hospital. At least I was closer.

I woke up groggy and depressed. I didn’t want to go to the stupid hospital. I shouldn’t have to. Angela should be at home. She should’ve always been at home and never been sick.

I looked up at the tall hospital atrium and the statues of dancing animals looked back down at me. Floors of hospital wards stretched over head. I couldn’t even see the oncology floor. How many kids were up there? How many teenagers like Angela and Adrian too? Different sicknesses, different injuries, different problems. I even saw women pushing baby strollers around. Small children wearing the little white ‘Sick Kids’ robe being carried down to surgery, kids on crutches, there was even one or two little bald kids down there. How could this place be so different from the outside world? Why did my friend have to spend her days here? Why couldn’t anyone do something? Why couldn’t anyone help?

Although I was depressed and sleepy, I tried to stand tall, to appreciate my wellness and freedom of life as I stepped on to the elevator. I was strong, I was healthy, I was well. I felt guilty for my fortune although I knew that was stupid. But why should I be well when other good people were so sick? People like Angela. She deserved better, so much better.

“Marisha-onnee-chan!” a little bald child shouted when I entered the old, familiar room after being told Angela had been moved there by a nurse. This little bald child was very familiar but I couldn’t believe it was him as he glued himself to my leg.

“Okaeri ni!” he shouted in his foreign tongue.

It was Tomoya. Three year old, rosy cheeked, dark black haired Tomoya. But now his head had been shaved. He still was cute and rosy cheeked, but he seemed thinner, his chubby baby-face narrower, his jammies loose and awkward looking. How did he change so much in less then a week?

“H-hi Tomoya.” I stammered, trying to get over the shock of seeing him like this. He was almost gaunt.

“Hey, come on! Let me touch it again!” Arcadies looking no different then ever joined him by my leg. Tomoya hopped off, and Arcadies reached over and rubbed his bristly little head. They both grinned.

“It brings good luck if you rub Buddha’s head.” Arcadies explained matter-of-factly, and Tomoya proudly flashed a big smile. “Tomoya’s like a Buddha!” she giggled.

“Buddha, Buddha!” he cried. I blinked. I saw Maria staring into a hand held mikrror and ignoring the world. Spiderman was in bed with his mom by his side, and Adrian was laying down looking out the window, his head turned away from us. But Angela again was not there. I didn’t get it. Her bed and minimal belongings were there, but there was no IV, no monitors, no sign of her at all. She was very sick, shouldn’t she be in her bed?

“Marisha rub too?” The little boy asked me suddenly. I looked around once more before leaning down and rubbing the small boy’s fuzzy shaved head. He beamed, and I smiled slightly for him, but worry lurked in the back of my mind. Where was Angela?

“Oh…. My… God!” Maria’s scream alerted the whole room. She held onto her mirror tightly in one hand, and grabbed at her hair in the other, her expression of terror and disgust. “I’m losing my hair!” she held some of her blonde highlighted brown hair in her fingers, loose from the rest of her thick streaked locks. I sympathized with her.

“Ooooh…” Tomoya turned around and gawked at her, making her very angry.

“Stop looking at me you bald little monk!” she shouted, and although he probably didn’t understand a word she’d said, the little boy’s lip quivered, and he burst into tears.

“Oh God, I’m gonna end up like you now!” she shouted, and I tried to comfort little Tomoya who wailed at the top of his lungs, and I did my best to keep myself from ripping out all of Maria’s stupid hair. She was so awful sometimes.

“No way. How come you all lose your hair but I don’t? It’s crazy.” Arcadies said, mischievously. I already knew she was no angel.

“Shut up, you faker!” Maria shouted at the little girl, who only giggled in reply.

“Both of you girls please stop fighting with each other.” Adrian wearily turned toward the group and almost begged of them, his sunken-in eyes full of pain. He too had changed since I’d last been there---he’d gotten worse. His plea stopped the fighting for a few seconds, and Tomoya quieted down to a sniffle and a hiccup. “We have a guest you know.” Adrian continued, looking over at me. I stepped back, feeling embarrassed.

“So what?” Maria growled. “She’s always here. We only just got rid of her when this stupid place gave up on Angela-la. Now they’re both back, and you say we should act different because little-miss-charitable is here? God, you’d think she’d stop this little game of pretending to be all concerned. What does she think she can do anyway?” she demanded, angrily. My blood boiled, she’d gone too far now.

“You take that back!” I shouted at her, upsetting poor Tomoya again, who ran over to Adrian.

“Take what back?” she mumbled, again focusing on her hair that looked damn well fine to me.

“Take back that you believe this hospital gave up on Angela, and that I’m only pretending!” I grabbed the mirror from her.

“Jeez, what’s your problem? Picking on sick kids, what’s a matter with you?” she demanded, slyly. I thought about hitting her over the head with the mirror, but didn’t want to deal with 7 years bad luck. I’d had enough already.

“Maria, stop taking your anger out Marissa, she hasn’t done anything wrong.” Adrian said, holding his head. I grimaced. Were we giving him a headache? I didn’t want to do that. He was too sick. But Maria wasn’t listening, and had gone back to running her hands through her hair. Sure enough, some thin strands lingered on her fingers.

“Dammit!” she cried, trying to get rid of the excess hair by throwing it on the floor, but it clung to her fingers, frustrating her. “I hate my freakn’ life!” she wailed, which would usually make me feel for her, but now I just wanted to kill her. I sank in a chair, and sighed, heavily.

“Oh boo-hoo, it’s not that much.” Arcadies spoke up. “Didn’t you see the clumps Angela lost? You’ve still got lots of hair.” The little girl encouraged her, but Maria glared at her.

“Arcadies is right, Maria.” Adrian started, weakly. The girl whipped around to face him, her cold, hard eyes boring into him, daring him to discourage her in any way.

“Your hair is very thick. It will probably thin, if anything, not fall out.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Uh, hello, Einstein? Did you see Angela’s hair? It was thicker than her brain. Now she’s as bald as Homer Simpson.” She mumbled, harshly, and I counted to ten. 1, 2, 3… I won’t hurt Maria…4, 5… I won’t kill Maria….

“Angela’s not bald!” Arcadies spoke up. Maria shot her look, and she shut up.

“Angela has a different type of cancer than you, and she needs more extreme treatments, so she has harsher side effects.” Adrian explained.

Maria made a face. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Stop talking about her behind her back!” I shouted at the lot of them, and they grew quiet. “Angela is kind to all of you. She never makes fun of you.” I paused, becoming a little over-emotional. “She’s my best friend, but you, Maria, act as if none of that matters. Even after all the help she’s given to you. All she does is help you and this is how you repay her?” I demanded, almost starting to feel tears in my eyes.

“Marissa…” Adrian started, realizing my distress.

“I hate the way you treat everyone here.” I continued, anger pushing me to continue, although the others seemed uncomfortable now. “You’re not the only who is sick, and just because you have cancer, doesn’t mean you can be cruel to everyone.” I felt tears again, but refused to let them flow. Not in front of Maria. I couldn’t show weakness in front of the enemy. Maria was the enemy.

Maria, in turn, narrowed her eyes, and stood in front of me, barely tall enough to match my chest, but she still could intimidate me.

“OK, but tell me one thing, Marissa,” she started, coolly, her voice dangerously low. “Do you have cancer?” I sighed, irritably, and stepped back. How was I supposed to answer that? I was not going to beaten by a 12 year old!

“I may not have cancer, or be sick at all, but I do know what you all go through. I see it every day I’m here. I see what happens to Angela and Adrian, Robbie, Tomoya and Arcadies, even you, and you know what, Maria,” I stopped, and looked in the girl’s eyes, menacingly.

She glared back at me. “What?”

“I wish it were me instead of Angela. I wish I was the one who was sick.” I told her the one thing I’d always wanted to say. Since the day I had hurt Angela. She didn’t deserve to be sick. It should’ve been me. Katy had said this when Kari died. It was the same thing. It should’ve been me.

Maria seemed a little moved by this, but then she looked away from me, turning her attention straight ahead. I turned to where she was looking, and there, standing in the doorway with Nikko by her side, was Angela. She held onto her missing IV, and Nikko held her shoulders. She looked very tired and weak, her thin body clothed in a long house-coat, and she leaned over her IV pole, gripping it for support as if she could no longer walk.

“Marissa, did you just say you want to be sick?” she asked, shakily. Nikko looked confused, and gripped her patient tighter. “Don’t say that, please….” Angela’s shaky voice trailed off into nothingness, and then she fell into Nikko’s arms leaving her consciousness behind.
~

“I won’t give up. I want to live.” She smiled at me. Somehow she could still smile. I didn’t know how, not after what had happened. I didn’t think I could ever smile now. Not now. The terrifying words ran through my head again, leaving me breathless as I looked down at my dearest friend

“Angela is not responding to treatments. She needs this transplant now, or she is going to die.” The doctor was blunt, Francesca was blunt with me. They let me know the truth, which even Angela herself wouldn’t allow me to know, and it caused me more grief then I could have imagined.

My best friend was dying. She really was. Why the hell couldn’t anyone get her a transplant? Why couldn’t she just take her aunt’s? Because she was incompatible… I told myself, hopelessly. Why couldn’t everyone offer to donate to her? Everyone in this world should want to help her, because one day she would surely help them in one way or another. Tears came to my eyes, and I furiously wiped them away with the back of my sleeve.

Angela lay in her own hospital bed, her curtains closed off from the others who could be heard whispering to each other. She had fainted, and was treated in her own bed where Nikko carried her limp body. The doctor had come in and done a bunch of tests, again giving her an oxygen mask until she regained consciousness. Then, after checking her vitals they all left. They just walked away.

Angela was out of it, and continued to sleep, and I came out from behind the curtain to face all the children’s worried faces.

“Anjira daijoubu?” Tomoya asked innocently, and I turned and ran from the room. That’s when I found Francesca. She was heading out of an office room, her brown eyes rimmed with red. My breath caught.

“Marissa,” she tried to rub away her tears before I could see her, but she was too late. “What are you doing out her?” she asked me, shakily, and then cleared her throat. I said nothing. “Weren’t you staying with Angela?” she continued.

“She’s asleep.” I replied.

Francesca looked away. “The doctors say she isn’t responding to treatment.” I was so shocked at first that she was telling me all this, that I didn’t exactly listen.

“So, uh…. What does that mean?” I asked. Surely they would give her another treatment, right?

Francesca put her palm over her face, and leaned over, a soft moan escaping her lips. I stepped back. It was my only physical reaction that wouldn’t have me bursting into tears too. “Oh, Marissa!” she cried out to me, taking her hand away from her face. “The doctors say Angela needs this transplant now of she is going to die. Oh God, Il mio Angela sta morendo!” she sobbed, dropping to her knees. I found myself following her, my heart sinking, light headedness overpowering me.

Angela was dying. My best friend was dying. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be true!

Francesca was crying now, sobbing into her hands. I didn’t know what to do. Francesca was all alone in life too. Angela and her only had each other. Without Angela what would she do? What I do too? I leaned down, and held onto the older woman as she cried. It was all I could do to keep from crying too.
~

“I’m going to make it.” She told me after the doctor had tried his hand at breaking Angela’s strong faith. She was fragile as glass, the cancer trying to destroy her weakened body, but her faith was like a brick wall; tall and strong. Unbreakable.

“The doctor just stated what I already knew.” She continued, and I grimaced. What did she mean by that? She always frightened me with how strong she was. Maybe she even overpowered me.

“I know I need this transplant to live. I always did. But it’s hard to come by.” She looked away. “And things have been hard, and all this previous treatment hasn’t helped… but I can still make it.” She looked into my eyes, hers so tired and sunken in like Adrian’s now. “There’s someone out there who can save me. I know there is.” She paused. “I’m not giving up.” She averted her eyes, her expression somewhat fearful, but her lips held a slight smile. “So please don’t give up on me.”

I put my hand on her shoulder, and felt a tear trickle down my face.

“I never will, Angie. I won’t give up on you.” She smiled at me. “I wish I could have everyone I know tested for you. I—“ I started to say to her, but I suddenly thought of something at the end. Something that hit me out of nowhere. “I’ll get the whole school tested.” I said, excitedly.

Why hadn’t I thought of it before? ‘Everyone likes Angela. Boy and girl…’ Kari’s words came back to me. The students at our school had cared for Angela, they always had. They had even cared enough to make her the special gift that seemed like it had been done so long ago now. Wouldn’t they want to help save her life? Wouldn’t I?

Angela’s eyes widened, and the hope and faith I saw in her soft, blue eyes seemed to flicker with excitement.

“You can do that?” she asked, sitting up in the bed.

I quickly morphed from scared-little-girl-losing-best-friend-to-cancer, to the new, confident-campaigner-stage-singer-member-of-the-student-council-young-adult I had become, and smiled.

“I’m on the student council, remember? I can do anything.”
~

“So you think you can get your whole school to have their compatibility tested?” Brian asked me that night, as I stretched out on the coach at the Starbucks where we would meet lately.

“Well, the doctors certainly aren’t getting any volunteers. I’m just going to have to do something myself.” I told him, determinedly.

Brian frowned. “It’s really great you want to help her, but don’t think it’s all up to you.” He stopped, and I shot him a look. “I mean…” he trailed off, nervous again. “Don’t be disappointed if you can’t…argh!” he clutched his head in frustration.

I pursed my lips. I knew what he was trying to say to me. It would had destroyed me if he’d come right out and said it though. I took a deep breath, and then said it myself.

“I know I can’t save her as one person…” I dropped off, my voice breaking. “But I can help find someone who can.” Tears came to my eyes, and I worked to swallow them back.

Brian took my hand, making me shiver and tingle all over.

“You’re a beautiful person, Marissa.” He said, softly. I only sighed. “You’d change the world if you could, wouldn’t you? He smiled, trying to make me feel better.

“The first thing I’d do is get rid of this damn cancer.” I announced.

“Now that would really change this world.” Brian agreed.

I sighed, deeply. “I wish I really could change the world…”

“Have you ever thought about getting tested yourself?” Brian asked me, cautiously. I froze. He asked me the question I was dreading. The one question that nagged at my brain, that pulled at my heart, and made me sick with worry at night. I should be tested. I should’ve been the first person to be tested. I wanted to save my best friend’s life, and inside my blood could be a cure. But I was scared. What chance did I have of being a match if Angela’s aunt wasn’t even compatible? And if I was…. What would I do?

“Of course I have.” I said, quickly.

“But…” Brian asked. I looked down.

“I’m scared.” I gripped the arms of the couch. “What if I can’t save her?” I looked back up at him. “I would be guilty for the rest of my life.”

“But what if you can?”
~

I told Jake and the rest of the student council about the idea to have everyone at our school tested to see if they were compatible with Angela, and could save her life. Although everyone agreed it was a good idea, there was still the problem of how to execute it. We didn’t think that every student could just randomly show up at the hospital to have their bone marrow tested. We needed a group event.

“Like a blood drive.” I said, brightly. “We could set it up just like a blood-drive. I could ask the hospital to help set something up for it, I’m sure Angela’s doctors could help us.”

“We would need permission forms. It isn’t just a simple blood test is it?” Katy asked.

“I-I’m not sure.” I stammered. “I just know that we need to find a match.”

“I know what it is. It’s surgery.” One of the members spoke up. “I read a book when I heard about Angela’s illness. A girl’s older brother donated to her, and saved her life. They had to do a simple surgery on his back to extract the bone marrow from him, and his recovery was quick.” The girl said, and I grimaced at the thought of surgery. I’d throw up at the thought of needles; I shuddered to think about someone cutting into my back. I was a coward.

“But the compatibility test is just a blood test.” She added. “It’s less invasive then even donating blood.”

“This is stupid.” Katy spoke up, irritably as usual. I was starting to wonder if the girl needed counseling or something. I didn’t think that Kari would have liked what her friend had become.

“Who’s going to want to be stuck with a needle for no reason?” she mumbled. It hurt me to hear something so uncaring come from her mouth. What had happened to her? Why would she say such a thing?

“No, I think we can do this.” Jake spoke up. “I think we should do this.” He turned to me. “Marissa, this is a wonderful idea of yours, and I promise you, and Angela too, that we’ll make it work.” He smiled at me, and I felt touched.

“Yeah, good luck.” Katy muttered. I stood up at the desk, my heart pounding, and anger and hurt filled me. But I was calm with her. I knew she was in pain.

“We’ll make it work, Katy. Because we’ve already lost one student this year, we don’t want to lose another.” I started, keeping my voice calm and steady. She looked up at me, and there was mist in her large, brown eyes.

“And this is Angela’s last hope.”
~

~~~Tomoya's Glossary Part 6~~~

okaeri ni~ welcome back

Il mio Angela sta morendo~ (this isn't Japanese! It's Angela and Francesca's native tongue-- Italian)
"My Angela is dying."

That's it.

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