Last May, Thursday afternoon
by alexandra_ielts7 on May 4, 2008
in stories, students
When I heard he was dying I tried to focus on something different. Ordinary life became difficult – looking at things turned into staring at them, planning was doing nothing, learning was forgetting, preparing for Matura was just sitting on the sofa on a dark afternoon … He was my friend. We shared the same school desk in gimnazjum. Now he was dying. I had just decided to be a doctor, to save people’s lives, an extremely difficult mission.
Behind the window, I watched the garden full of spring-green, just woken to life, flowers embracing the whole sky with their petals, and that sad, darkening afternoon. Books lying on the table and a cup of offended, cold tea.
When I realized he was dying I tried to focus on something different. It was hard to stop crying. Walls seemed to be hearing my thoughts. In the evening the flowers closed their petals. My feelings of anger, rage and helplessness slammed.
He was standing in the door, completely bald, not a handsome tall man anymore, but a teenage boy again, who in the fact was nineteen. Skinny, with big eyes, pale face and some injection marks on his arms. Surprisingly, he did not make me scared. Despite his physical changes, he was still my good old friend, his smile and soul remained the same. I entered the house, but he did not invite me to his room. I imagined that place with white walls, white bed sheets, his pale body, his white world without real brightness. We sat in his sisters’ room, in complete silence for some time. I tried to ask him about his illness, his killer, cancer. He told me not to. So I agreed to play his strange game of no questions-no pain.
Then we remembered our school days, that happy time just before adulthood. Outside, I could hear his mother, a strong and warm voice of a brave woman. The small house, small room, small moments of happiness, his small new world.
Our future plans. I just told him that after Matura I wished to study medicine. ‘Maybe one day you will save somebody’s life,’ he said, ‘like mine.’ Yes, he was still hoping. He did not give up.
Suddenly, we burst into laughter. It was an incredibly real, clear laugh that let us forget about the whole world, our problems, pain, that stigmatizing illness …
A beautiful Thursday afternoon. Green trees, clear blue sky, people’s happy voices, children riding bicycles. On my way home, the sun was gently warming the freckles and tears an my face.