Whilst away in Croatia, there was a piece of writing I shared with Vicky and Clare. It was a piece I had to do as a controlled assessment for college. I thought it was captivating enough to share; it did also nab me an A. Here's to the Friday Blog Challenge!
We had to pick a line from a poem and write our own prose based upon it. I chose "Spellbound" by Emily Bronte.
My Dearest Evangeline
I sit here pondering, your beautiful face resonates in my mind, as I feel the ice cold trail of an apparent cure feeding my blood. Oh, how I will miss the mornings of our Marigold friend; billowing into the room, as if he owns it. The joyous laughs spilling from yourself, jumping on my bed, eager for me to wake and get the day started.
I sit here, cold. Our glorious morning sun has faded. He has decided once more, to don his hat and say farewell to the skies, for now.
I find it hard writing, I find it tiring, I find it unimaginably difficult.
How am I supposed to say goodbye, when my body yearns to say, hello.
I remember the day they told me. Do you?
How ironically hilarious, that I should find out about my friend, Steve; who seems to have taken up residence in a "very smart mind" your words echo.
We were swimming and I suddenly collapsed! You were so worried, you clutched my favourite bear that night and snuggled beside me to sleep in those very cold, cast iron hospital beds. You watched over me like my guardian angel. My angel Evangeline.
After those pesky tests and surgery, we managed to say goodbye to Steve. However, they found his brother Dave and his other siblings. "Malignant tumour colonies" they called them. My brain all of a sudden felt very occupied. The most activity it's seen in a while. I just wished they had asked my permission first.
After that disastrous bout of radiotherapy, 6 weeks it took up. 6 weeks of yuck! I loved your happiness though. So determined to see me happy, so determined to keep me smiling. Even if it was prancing around in a tutu, wearing a tiara, shouting "I'm a lady", as we both tried on my first wig.
They phoned to let us know, the bearers of good news; HA. Some of Dave and his friends had spread and I had now more new metastases. Wow, loved that bit of news.
I've always wondered. Why do they wear those coats of pure white? Do you think it could be, that they wear them to feel clean and pure when delivering such "good news" to people?
I digress. The reason for this letter is to say goodbye. To inform you as to why I have chosen the action that I am currently taking.
I remember you pleading with me to continue with the therapies. I know you can't bear the thought of losing me, but I cannot bear the thought of losing you also, but I am spellbound. I am in and out of cold hospitals, in and out of cold, cold, cold places. I just want to feel warm again. I am so tired of moving from pillar to post for the hope that my "friends"; might take up residency elsewhere.
But, the cold hard fact is, they won't.
I am not doing this to be difficult, but I am doing this to take back control, to take back my body; what is left of it.
I have lived a good life, and I have you to thank for that. Let me join our friend Marigold, the sun.
Let me join the rest of our family, let me join Dad.
I know you say I am too young, but I say I have lived life.
Don't cry at the morning sun for me and weep sorrow.
Look at the sun, and every time it shines, remember that's me saying, Hi.
And when it isn't out, remember that's me being a stubborn child, as you like to say.
I love you with all my heart, I won't say goodbye Mummy.
Just Goodnight.
Forever yours, always.
Me.
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