"Miss Smith, I’m afraid that you have leukaemia"
No, no, no, not now. Not today, why did it have to be today? Why did I have to be told today? Why not tomorrow, any day but my 21st birthday would be fine.
"How long do I have left?" I ask tentatively.
The doctor sighs, a look of sadness weighing down on him, “Four weeks”
"Oh" I nod numbly.
"You can either get chemotherapy or live the rest of your life" he tells me.
Almost knocking over my chair, I stand.
"I’ll take that as a no chemo" he mumbles, writing something down on a piece of paper.
I nod, mutter a stiff goodbye and hurridley leave the office. I walk up to the reception desk.
"Hi, um, I think I have to pay for this appointment" I say.
The receptionist looks up, “Darlin’ you don’t have to pay. Especially after what you’ve just been told.” she tells me, Southern belle accent obvious.
I offer a small smile.
"Hey darl’, see that boy out there. The one across the road." she points out the door, I lean to look, "Give him this" she hands me a red envelope.
"Okay?" I say, it sounding more like a question than a statement.
I turn to exit.
"Don’t get yourself killed"
That comment, however ironic, actually cheered me up. It seems that some people can see the bright side of death.
As I cross the road, I analyse the boy. He was tall, had dark, almost black hair in a quiff, was tanned and had a couple tattoos. He was leaning against the fence in front of a little kiddies park.
I approached him carefully, “Er… hi” I say slightly intimidated, he looks over at me, “A receptionist lady over in that building asked me to give this to you” I gesture over at the building and hand him the scarlet envelope.
He opens it, looking through its contents.
He finishes and looks up at me, “So, your name, what is it?” he asks.
"Millie" I say meekly.
"My name is William Singe, but call me Will" he grins toothily.
"So the envelope, what was in it?" I ask, curious as to why he just introduced himself to me.
"Oh this" he says.
Well yeah, obviously. What other envelope do you have?
"This is your bucket list"
My eyes widen, “What?
"This. Is. Your. Bucket. List" he says slowly.
I shake my head, “I know what it is. But why do you have it? I never made one. It doesn’t make sense”
"Here, read it" he hands me the letter.
The girl that has come up to you has leukaemia. Help her complete her bucket list. She’ll need it.
-Go to another country
-Swim under the stars
-Dance in public
-Camp in the woods
-Kiss some one
-Tell someone you love them
-Buy something that you have always wanted
- Fall in Love
These are just some suggestions, add more if you want.
The receptionist across the road.
"Oh My Gosh" I gasp.
The tears begin to rivulet down my face.
"Mol?" asks Will, "Are you okay?"
Mol? He has a nickname for me already. I soon realise that I haven’t replied to his question, and just as I’m about to say something he envelops me in a hug. Speechless, I hug him back, losing all my dignity and breaking down. The tears spill from my eyes and onto his shirt.
"Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay Mol" he soothes, stroking my hair.
I nod weakly, when really all I’m thinking is that I only have a month to live.
tags: karen gillian. karen gillian gif. the collective. william singe. mollie white. chapter one. ff. read. love. sad. bucket list. learning how to live.