PAYBACK’S A BITCH

by Johnson, Missy

  I feel helpless, lost and alone, and there isn’t a fucking thing I can do to fix it.

  Sinking down onto my knees, I try to block the cold gust of wind as it hits my bare arms. It’s still dark—at a guess, I’d say around five in the morning. The roar of the river is so powerful that I can hardly focus on my thoughts. I’ve been sitting in this same spot since I left the hospital yesterday afternoon. I came down here to think and now I can’t move. I’m stranded. I haven’t even been to the restroom, which tells me I’m probably dehydrated. I’ll add it to the list.

  This place holds so many happy memories. I used to come here and camp when I was a kid—before my illness took over our lives. I stare across at the old oak tree that towers over the river, my heart sinking. Life was so much simpler back then. I felt safe and loved.No matter the situation, I knew everything would be fine because my parents would protect me. But they can’t protect me from this. They can’t save me. Nobody can.

  I lean forward so I’m hanging over the rock face. A fresh gust of wind hits me and my body rocks forward, making my heart race. For a brief second, I consider something that has never, ever crossed my mind. The drop below isn’t much—not enough to kill me—but the fast-flowing current will finish off the job. Especially considering I can’t swim.

  This can all be over in a second. My heart races as I bite my lip, the searing pain comforting. Could I do it? Because once I jump, that’s it. There’s no turning back.

  Two days ago, I never would’ve thought myself capable of this. I’d prepared myself for positive news, that my cancer was in remission. I went into that appointment thinking everything was going to be fine.

  I should be feeling relieved. I should be crying tears of happiness that my cancer is in remission—but instead I sit here, feeling empty, scared, and hopeless.

  Yesterday at least I had a fighting chance. Today I have nothing.

  Taking a deep breath, I stand up, stretching my long legs out beneath me. My cream-coloured sleeveless shirt flaps in the wind. My hair, now tangled and wet, sways around my face and shoulders. I push it away from my eyes and clench my fists at my sides as I step towards the edge of the embankment.

  My toes curl over the edge, digging into the soil as I summon up all my courage. This is it. I’ll close my eyes and jump, and then this whole nightmare will be over.

  “Little cold to be out for a morning stroll, isn’t it?”

  I startle, my heart lurching into my throat. I spin around, losing my balance as I tumble into the water. Gasping in terror, my lungs burn as I take in water. The freezing temperature is unbearable. My body is numb and I feel myself weakening. Just as I’m about to let go, strong arms wrap tightly around my waist and yank me to the surface.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His voice is soft, yet commanding in my ear.

  Tears roll down my cheeks, because I couldn’t even get killing myself right. I’m limp in his arms as he hoists me back onto the safety of dry land.

  “Are you okay?” he asks. He cradles my face in his hands, searching my eyes for answers.

  I stare back at him and nod dumbly, knowing that if I speak, I’ll say something stupid.

  “What the fuck were you thinking? Are you drunk? Stoned?”

  I shake my head. I’m angry that I’m still alive and yet grateful that he saved me.

  “Come here,” he mutters, wrapping me in his arms.

  I flinch against his touch, something he notices.

  His expression softens. “Let’s get you dry.”

  He leads me over to his car. I get in, no questions asked. If I wasn’t in shock, suicidal, and oh-so-freezing I’d have laughed at my stupidity. Did the years of self-defence classes Mum made Calli and me take teach me nothing? I’m getting into the car of a strange guy I know nothing about, except for the fact that he likes to frequent deserted rivers at the crack of dawn.

  He helps me into the passenger seat, then jogs around the front of the old jeep to the driver’s side.

  “Can you tell me your name?” he asks, glancing at me as he plugs in his seat belt. He sweeps his dark, curly hair away from his eyes as he waits for me to answer.

  “Erin,” I mumble.

  He reaches over to the backseat and retrieves a blanket, which I take gratefully. The shivering won’t stop, and my lungs burn with every breath. I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing.

  “Should I be calling someone for you?”

  I shake my head. That is the last thing my family needs. I sigh as tears sting my eyes. I turn and look out the window in an attempt to hide my swollen eyes, but I can feel him watching me. I feel like I owe him an explanation, but I don’t know what to say.

  “I’m sorry. I’m okay—or at least I will be when get home,” I croak.

  He frowns at me, as if he’s not convinced. “Look, I have to be honest. I’m about five seconds away from taking you to the hospital. You tried to kill yourself. How do I know if I take you home and leave you that you won’t try it again?”

  “Because I’m telling you I won’t.”

  “Forgive me if I don’t want to just take your word for it.”

  “I’m not suicidal,” I respond testily.

  He snorts and I shoot him a look, angry that I’m having to justify myself to him repeatedly.

  “I just got some bad news and I panicked. Trust me, the last thing I want is to die.” If only I had a choice in the matter.

  “Then I’ll take you home,” he says after a moment.

  I nod, not seeing a way out of this. He revs the car to life and speeds out of the parking lot, past my little white Corolla, parked alone at the top of the lot. I’ll get Calli to drive me out tomorrow. I remember my phone, sitting on the front seat of my car. How many missed calls will I have? I smile in spite of myself. I can’t deny that my family loves me.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  I jump, his voice ripping me away from my thoughts.

  “I found out I’m dying.” I push the words out, my voice breaking. Anxiety rips through my chest. Saying it aloud is a thousand times worse than thinking it, and it makes it more real.

  “Shit,” he mutters.

  I nod, a small smile on my lips. In a weird way, I find it comforting that at a loss for words. It’s validation that I’m not overreacting to this whole mess.

  “What is it? Cancer?” He spits the word out in such a way that I wonder if it’s hurt him before.

  I nod. “Brain cancer.”

  “Fuck me,” he mutters. “So the whole thing back there was you deciding to help it along?”

  “That was me panicking. I lost myself for a moment. I wanted to see what it was like not to fight this anymore.”

  “And?”

  “It felt great. And wonderful. And terrifying.” I hesitate. I don’t even know this guy, but it’s so much easier talking to a stranger about this. I could never be this honest with my family. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I was just upset. Have you ever felt so angry at the world that you just think ‘fuck it’? I’ve done everything right my whole life, and this is what I get? How is that fair?”

  “I get it,” he murmurs. He rubs his forehead and glances at me. “I mean, I have no clue what you’re going through, but I get what it feels like to think life hates you. The thing you have to realise is, it’s not over yet. Nobody is guaranteed a life till they’re ninety. It’s rough that you know you don’t have much time left, but that’s how we all should be living anyway, right?”

  He makes a good point. How many people wake up and have no idea that they’re about to live their last day? Maybe I should be thinking of this as a blessing rather than a curse. I stifle a yawn. I’m so tired, and my vision is beginning to blur—a sure fire sign that it’s probably not going to be a good day. I rub my aching head and close my eyes.

  “Where do you live?” he asks.

  “Do you mind if we get something to eat first?” I ask. It sounds stupid after getting into his car and le
aving with him, but I’m wary of giving him my address. I don’t know anything about him.

  How am I going to get away from him? The last thing I want right now is company, especially his. I’m embarrassed and ashamed that he saw me at my most vulnerable moment. I can only imagine what he’s thinking about me.

  “Sure,” he says. He sounds surprised. “Burgers okay?”

  I nod, and he swings into the twenty-four hour Burger Barn we are passing. The thought of food is making me feel sick, but I have no intention of still being here when he gets back.

  I glance down at myself with a sheepish smile. “I’m kind of a mess. Would you mind going in?”

  “What do you want?” he asks.

  “A cheeseburger and a Coke,” I reply.

  He nods and opens the door. I wait until he disappears from my view before I inch open the car door and step outside. Quickly, I jog towards the sidewalk and detour down a side street, only slowing down when I’m confident I’m safe. I’m barefoot, but I don’t even acknowledge the pain searing through the soles of my feet as they hit stones and God knows what else.

  I’m still a few miles from home, but the brisk air feels soothing as it blows gently on my face. The sun is just starting to rise as it breaks through the clouds, lighting the sky a beautiful orange. I stop for a second to take it in, goose bumps forming on my arms. I should be up this early more often. I swallow past the lump in my throat. How many sunrises do I have left? For a second I almost forgot that I’m dying. Almost. Then, just like that, reality comes crashing down on me and I can’t breathe.

  There is so much I need to organize. My funeral. Hospice care for when it gets to be too much. Who will get the few assets I have? All the little things I don’t want my family to have to deal with. But none of that compares to having to tell my parents and my sister that I’m dying.

  They knew it was a possibility, but we all thought I could beat this. On the days when I was really sick, we would talk about the future. Life after cancer. It’s that hope that got me through the hardest days, and now that’s gone.

  It’s not over yet.

  I didn’t even get his name, but his words stay imprinted in my mind, because he’s right—it isn’t over yet, especially for my family. I’m dying, and that sucks, but there are people I’m leaving behind who I need to put ahead of myself. I need to think about their future, even if I don’t have one of my own.

  Life after Erin.

  Life ending for me, doesn’t mean it finishes for them. Life goes on, and there will be a hundred little things that remind them of me that I can’t do anything about. I hate that I won’t be able to take that pain away from them. Don’t think about that. I have to focus on the here and now, or I’m going to fall apart.

  And if I fall apart, they will too.