Breathe Me. ((Closed))

[Emmy Parker G6]

Emmy paced. Emmy wasn’t a pacer. But she was pacing. She was pacing back and forth; up and down the hallway with her eyes downcast and bearing tears. Emmy paced. She paused every now and then when someone approached her end of the hallway, but only for a moment before she started her pacing again. She knew she must’ve looked like a monster, but she didn’t care. Her hair hung limply in her face, her eyes were red rimmed and swollen from crying, and her skin tone looked sallow. Emmy’s nails were bitten to the quick and there were deep gashes on the back of her hands from where she had scratched them nervously during the wait. The wait. Emmy’s life was too full of waiting. She had spent the majority of her life waiting. Waiting for a diagnosis, waiting for surgery, waiting for transfusions, waiting for rehabilitation. But this wait… this wait topped all. This wait was the wait. They had arrived at the hospital a week ago. A week ago. Emmy had given blood, a lot of it, but she had recuperated days ago. Emma was in ICU. They were waiting for the test results. The test results that said whether or not… “Emmy?” She jumped and turned around on her heel to see Keith walking toward her with a cup of coffee in his hand. He reached her and pulled her into his arms, causing Emmy to have to fight to keep her tears in her eyes. She never cried in front of anyone. Crying in solitude. The only other living person who had ever seen Emmy cry was Emma. Emma…

“C’mon, Emmy, let’s go back to the waiting room.” Keith started to tug her down in the direction of the waiting room, but Emmy pulled her arm back and shook her head vehemently. “No! I… I can’t leave her!” Her tone was shaky and she knew that if Keith pressed he would get her to breakdown, but she was feeling so weak. So very weak. Keith looked at her, concern riddling his facial features, but he didn’t pull her toward the waiting room again. Instead, he offered her the Styrofoam cup of coffee and Emmy looked at it; “We… we aren’t allowed caffeine…” Keith gave her a look and she took it without another complaint. The coffee tasted overly bitter on her tongue but she gulped it down without much thought. She couldn’t really taste anything. Everything tasted like ash. Everything was ash. Emmy resumed her pacing, the Styrofoam cup in her hands still but now completely empty. Keith watched her, his blue eyes showing worry as he watched his younger sister become a shadow of herself. “Emmy…” he reached out for her, expecting her to take his hand but all she did was shove the cup into his hand and start to pace again. Keith frowned and started to say something when the door to the room opened and their parents stepped out. Emmy looked up and by the ghostly look in her father’s eyes, she knew it was nothing good. Keith moved to his mother’s side as she started to sink into the chair beside the door, her own eyes looking empty.

“What’d they say, Daddy?” Emmy tried not to sound as childish as she did, but she couldn’t help it. She felt so small. Campbell looked at his daughter a moment and then reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. Emmy could feel him shaking through the embrace and tried to keep everything inside her, “Daddy, what’d they say?” The tears were threatening to pour harder now, but she didn’t let them. She wouldn’t let them not yet. Emmy wrapped her arms around his midsection and buried her face into the jacket he wore. She breathed in his scent. The sweet aroma of peppermint and firewood. Campbell kissed the top of her head and held her tight to him, trying not to break down in the middle of the hallway. Emmy clung to her father as the words kept pouring from her lips, “What’d they say, Daddy? Please, tell me, what did they say?” Keith and Carol-Ann were watching as tears fell from their eyes and rolled down their cheeks. “Daddy! What did they say?!” She had finally wrenched herself from her father and was looking at him straight in the eye. Campbell looked at her as tears escaped his brown eyes and reached up a hand to cup her chin, “Baby doll…” “Don’t baby doll me, Dad! What did they say?!?” Campbell blanched and nodded, dropping his hand; “It’s her heart, Emmy.” She stared at him as he spoke, “The blood… isn’t…” he sighed, “I honestly don’t remember what they said was wrong, Em, but the conclusion was the same. There isn’t anything we can do about it… Emmy, she’s… she’s…” His voice broke.

Emmy shook her head and stepped back, “No…” “Emmy, we can’t do anything… she’s dying, Em.” “No…” “Emmy…” “NO!” Emmy shrunk away from her father’s touch and pushed her back up against the wall. The room felt as if it were closing in around her. All she could hear was her voice saying “no” over and over again. She was vaguely aware of her father wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him as she sunk to the floor, sobbing. “NO!” She felt like she was losing half of her. A part of her. And the lady in the moon shall remain forever gazing down upon the shattered soul that was once her counterpart, her half, her soul. For this reason, the Moonlady takes a leave for three days and there is no moon light, she leaves to grieve her lost soul, her lost counterpart, her lost half. Emmy covered her face with her hands, letting her father hold her and comfort her as her soul became split in half.

[Emma Parker]

She didn’t need to be told that she was dying. She had known immediately. The odd thing was, Emma welcomed it. The idea of death was relieving to her. Something that she had wanted for so long. Although the concept of wanting to die was completely selfish, Emma knew, she couldn’t help but be happy that she was going to die. Living a life of pain was not something she had wanted to do. So, if she was so glad to be dying, why did she feel so anxious? She knew it was because of Emmy. Because she felt bad, terrible, for wanting to leave her twin behind. But she couldn’t help it. Her time had been coming for a long time and Emmy needed to be able to get on with her life. Her new life, the life she had always deserved. Emma coughed and held the washcloth to her mouth as blood spit up and the door to her room opened. Emmy walked in, her jacket over her arms, and Emma could see she was shaking. Emma coughed again and then relaxed into the bed. There was no pain because she was on some powerful medication, no physical pain anyway. Seeing Emmy this way tore Emma apart and she, for the moment, blinked onto what it would be like to be in Emmy’s position. Emmy took a seat close to Emma in the chair beside her bed and started to reach for her twin’s hand when she seemed to think better of it and just keep her hands hidden under her jacket. They sat in silence for a moment and then Emma spoke, “I want you to keep Mr. Snugglesworth, Em.” Mr. Snugglesworth was her stuffed pig.

Emmy shook her head as tears fell from her blue eyes, “I…I can’t, Emma. He’s yours. You should…should…have him.” Emma looked at her sister as tears of her own welled her eyes. She hadn’t cried yet because, like said earlier, she had welcomed her death. But seeing her sister this way made her realize just how much of an impact this would have on Emmy. “Emmy, I have no use for him anymore. I want you to have him. Do you remember when we were little and you were afraid of thunderstorms? You wouldn’t let Mum hold you, or Dad, but you would let me. After awhile you started to get really fed up with having to crawl into my bed in the middle of the night when the storms happened, so I gave you Mr. Snugglesworth to hold, and I told you he would keep you safe from everything. Ever since then, when there was a storm, you’d take Mr. Snugglesworth and hold onto him tight. I want you to be able to hold onto him tight when you need him. I want you to hold onto him and think of me, Emmy. Because I’m never too far if you have him with you…” Emma’s voice broke as tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Emmy finally set her jacket down and reached for Emma’s hand, but not in the normal way someone would hold hands. They pressed their palms together like they always had, and they cried together. They cried for a few minutes before Emma spoke again, “I want you to feel free to do whatever you want to the room, too. Get rid of my bed and get a bigger one, make it yours, Emmy. You deserve all of these things. You deserve…to live.”

“And you don’t? Emma, you… you deserve everything in this world! You deserve the happiness and the laughter and the smiles, Emma! You’ve never been anything but good to people. I should be the one in that bed, not you!” Emmy pushed back the chair and stood, breaking their connection. Emma watched her sister as she looked out the window, “I’ve been terrible to people, Emma. I’m cold hearted and cruel. I’ve… I’ve felt so trapped within your sickness and I’m not even the one sick! Do you see why you deserve to live and I deserve to die?” Emma would have stood if she could, but she was too weak and she wasn’t allowed to. Instead, she shook her head again, harsher than before; “Emmy, you are a great person. You have a heart of gold. I know you felt trapped by my sickness, Emmy, and I feel bad for it. Mum and Dad pushed this life on you and they shouldn’t have. It would have been different if I was just sick and you were just my sister and not my keeper…but that’s not the way it turned out and I’m sorry for that. But, in the end, you deserve to live a happy life. You’ve got people who care about you, Emmy,” she shook her head again when Emmy started to speak, “I know I do, too. But I’ve always had people who care about me. This is new for you. You’ve got a boyfriend, Em, if anything… be happy that you have him. When one door closes… another one opens.” Emmy turned and stared at her sister.

“You can not be implying that I got Gabriel because I’m losing you,” she said in disbelief. Emma nodded, “I am. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Emmy sank back into the chair and covered her face with her shaking hands. Emma watched her twin, knowing what was running through her head. When Emmy spoke, though, it wasn’t what Emma had been expecting; “Take me.” She whispered as she lowered her hands, her eyes still closed, “Take ME!” she screamed. Emma closed her eyes and lowered her head as tears fell again, “Emmy…” “No, Emma, let them take my heart and put it in you. Let them, please. Please!” Emma shook her head, “And kill you?! No! I won’t let them! Dad won’t let them! Emmy you aren’t thinking logically… please…” Emmy looked at her sister and Emma instantly saw a change in her demeanor. They sat in tense silence for a moment and then Emmy picked up her jacket and stood, heading toward the door. She paused and without turning around said in a hoarse whisper, “Fine. Die. See if I care.” Emma felt the wind get knocked out of her as her twin opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind her. Tears fell from Emma’s eyes as she relaxed into the bed, wishing her death would come sooner.

[Emmy Parker G6]

Emmy didn’t know what had possessed her to be so cold to her sister. But she wasn’t regretting it at the present moment. She was mad at Emma. Livid with her twin. She was being extremely selfish and to use Gabriel against her? Ugh, that was just worse. Emmy scowled and sank down onto the chair beside Keith who looked over at her, “You two have a nice talk?” He asked. Emmy looked at him and took in his appearance. He hadn’t shaved in a week, his blonde hair wasn’t brushed, he looked tired, and worn out and he looked like he was just out of tears. Emmy had never seen Keith cry. He had always been so strong, but apparently he had disappeared and cried his heart out when he was able to. “Did you? Emma’s being impossible, Keith.” Emmy crossed her arms and looked down at her feet, scuffing the floor with the toe of her shoe. Keith narrowed his eyebrows, “She’s being impossible, Emmy? You mean she’s on her death bed and she’s being impossible? God, what a concept.” Emmy looked up at him sharply, anger apparent in her eyes. Why didn’t everyone else get this like she did? Emma deserved to live. Emmy deserved to die. It was as simple as that. And if Emma wasn’t going to agree with her on the subject, if she wasn’t going to say ‘alright, you’re right…talk to Mum and Dad about the transplant’ then to hell with her. Deep down, Emmy knew that she was being just plain cold hearted. But she couldn’t help it.

“You don’t get it. She…” Emmy sighed and turned around in her seat so she was facing her brother, “She won’t let me give her my heart.” Keith’s anger flourished in his eyes and he gripped Emmy’s shoulders harshly, staring at her; “What in the world would possess you to want to give her your heart, Em? You are a huge asset to this family and we’d wilt without you. We need you with us, Emmy.” He pushed Emmy’s hair out of her eyes and then sighed and pulled her up from the chair with him to hold her close, “We need Emma, too, but… Emmy even if you did give Emma your heart – it probably wouldn’t last that long. She’d only die later on and then…then we’d be without either of you. No, Emmy, this is how it has to be.” Emmy closed her eyes tight and wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as more tears came. He was making perfect sense, but she still couldn’t help but feel completely lost and angry toward her sister still. Keith held her for a bit, soothing her and rocking her side to side slightly as doctors passed and gave them sympathetic looks. Everyone knew about the Parker twins. After awhile, Keith pulled away from the hug and looked down at his younger sister. She wiped at her tears and took a deep breath in as she looked up at him, “I have to go talk to her, Keith, I…I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” Keith nodded and kissed her forehead before letting go of her completely. Emmy turned and headed back toward the door to Emma’s room, breathing deeply before pushing it open.

Emma’s curtains around her were closed, and something inside Emmy just made her decide to keep them closed. It would be easier, she told herself, to apologize to her. Emmy sat down in one of the chairs, “Emma…” there was silence from behind the curtain, but Emmy had expected that, “I’m sorry about what I said. I was out of line. I…I just don’t want you to die. I’ve never been without you, Emma. We’ve always been together. We’re twins, remember? It’s something that’s never been questioned. You are half of me and I am half of you. The thought of losing that half is just terrifying. What am I without you, Emma? I’m just Emmy Parker. That’s no one special. She’s just some girl who had a sister who had leukaemia who died. I suppose…” Emmy looked at her shaking hands and paused here, hoping Emma would interject, but she didn’t so Emmy continued; “I suppose I just don’t want to feel empty inside. And I want to think of any possible way to make sure you don’t have to leave me. I think, deep down I knew that there was no other way except a transplant and…Keith pointed out that might not even work. I suppose we lose, Emma. We’ve lost this long drawn out war with the disease. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger for you…” Emmy had trailed off now, completely expecting Emma to say something encouraging. However, when there wasn’t any sound from behind the curtain for a minute or so, Emmy frowned and stood from her chair. She made her way to the curtain slowly and slid it open.

She wished she hadn’t. Emmy looked down at the fragile frame of her sister, pale and cold. She opened her mouth to let out a sound, any sound; a scream or a cry or whatever, but nothing came out. She was just stunned. Emmy let her eyes trail to the heart monitor. It was flat lined. She closed her eyes and shook her head as tears fell. How…how had she not known Emma had died already? That was the one question that was running through her head. Not why she had to die or what she could have done to prevent the death, because those questions seemed so stupid. Emmy’s mind was asking why she hadn’t felt something ripped from her soul. She started to blame herself for it. Telling herself that if only she hadn’t said what she had earlier, that connection would still be there. She backed away from the bed and turned, hurrying out of the room and letting the door slam shut behind her. She didn’t know where she was walking to, but she was walking down the corridor as if she were in a daze. It had to have been twenty minutes later when Keith found her. He looked at her and without a word he knew. Emmy pushed past him, not wanting to be held by him. Not wanting to be held by anyone. The only emotion that Emmy had ever really known, anger, was filling up inside of her. She was growing angry with everyone. With the doctors, with her dead sister, with her brother, and her parents. She was growing angry, most of all, though, with herself. She hated herself within that moment. And it would be a hatred that would stay for awhile.