Heartbeat

“You’re dying.”

The doctor’s voice didn’t sound quite right in my ears. On my right, I could see my usually composed mother crying. My twin brother and sister were unexpectedly quiet. It was like I was watching a bad soap rerun on TV where the doctor was informing them about the main character’s condition. Only this time, they were talking about me.

“But you said there was nothing wrong with her.” My mother was gripping the handkerchief she brought with her this morning. I studied her face. She was beautiful even in grief. For a 50 year old woman, she looked so young. It was too bad her first husband- my dad, left her when I was born. It was apparent that he didn’t love us- me.

“We couldn’t understand it either,” the doctor replied. “There was no tumor, cancer, hemorrhage, or any indication that there was something wrong with her body. We did all the test we could. All we know is that her heart is getting weaker and her body is deteriorating fast,” he added with a frown, as if it was life’s biggest mystery.

Everyone just stared at the floor, unsure of what to say. I looked around the room. We were inside the doctor’s office. It has been a month since I first came here, and everything was beginning to look all too familiar, which scared the hell out of me.

I couldn’t understand it either. Everything was normal from the start. Even my long, wavy brunette hair and mocha brown eyes never seemed out of place. I was a lean active girl who always joined different activities in school. I tried cheerleading, volleyball, even swimming. I was as healthy as a horse. But when I turned 18 a month ago in April, things went downhill.

The shortness of breath came first. I was sitting on the gym bleachers, shouting and cheering along with my friends and classmates for our school basketball team. All of a sudden, I felt a choking sensation, like all the air was sucked out of my body. My best friend Marley and her boyfriend Max nearly carried me all the way to the infirmary while I struggled to remain conscious. The school doctor said it was caused by anxiety because of the game, so I didn’t pay any attention to it.

The headaches came next. I was attending career counseling when the most painful migraine began to set in. Again, I was brought to the infirmary, but the doctor said I was stressed. I believed him because choosing my career was a tough decision, and my head was full of thoughts that day. I wish it was that easy.

The last straw was the heartache. It woke me up in the middle of the night. The burning, pounding sensation was too much to bear, so I had my mom take me to the hospital. That day, I thought I was having a heart attack. The doctors thought so too, but after week after week of tests and examinations, they determined it was something else, something that they couldn’t put a name on. And here we are now discussing about death and dying.

I took a sip of water from the bottle that I brought earlier, hoping it would relieve my dry throat, but it didn’t work. “How long?”

The others looked at me in horror, shocked that I had the guts to ask. The doctor hesitated before replying, “Excuse me?”

In a clearer voice I said, “You told me that I’m dying. So how long do I have?”

“Don’t say such things Clover.” Jack, my 16 year old brother couldn’t hide his frustration in his voice. He grabbed his wavy blonde hair which he got from my mom, not sure if he was going to pull it or brush it away from his pale, handsome face.

His twin sister Amanda spoke up. “Yeah Clove, stop scaring us like that.” She glared at me before speaking to the doctor. “Tell us you just made a mistake.” She took a step forward. “How can you tell us that she’s dying when she’s healthier than all of us?” Tears were pouring down her face.

The doctor maintained a sober look. “It’s out of our hands. I’m sorry that we can’t do anything more for her. We haven’t encountered anything like this before. The other doctors were baffled as well.” To my mom he spoke, “We have counseling geared towards situations like this. I can recommend you if you want.”

My mom just nodded and didn’t speak, as if she was in a trance. I stared at my hands, unsure of how I felt. It was like I was numb and floating away from my body. If this was a dream or more like a nightmare, I wanted to wake up from it now. It was so unfair! Why me? What did I do to deserve this?!

After speaking with the doctor, everyone tried to regain composure. We walked back to the car and stayed silent the whole time. The three of them couldn’t look at me, but I preferred it that way. It saved us from all the drama and consoling that I didn’t need at the moment. The ride home was the longest I had to endure in my life. I just stared out the window, wondering when it will end. Today? Tomorrow? Would I just close my eyes? Or would it hurt like hell?

We reached our 2-storey house after the 30 minutes drive and I quickly went inside. I wanted to avoid speaking to them until I gathered my thoughts. Looking around the place, I noticed that everything stayed the same as before, from our cozy country style home, the cream colored sofa on the living room, to the bright yellow curtains on the window. The only one who seemed completely different was me.

Without warning, everything came crushing in; the doctors statement that morning, my fears, my longing to live, and my inability to accept death. I marched inside the kitchen and threw the first thing I saw, the ugly vase I made in pottery class. It shattered on the floor, and I was relieved to see it broken. Like me, no one could fix it now. I smiled to myself despite the crushing pain I was feeling at the moment.

Upon hearing the ruckus I made, my mom and siblings ran to the kitchen and hugged me. I returned the embrace fiercely, and we stayed in that position for a long time, wondering who comforted who.

I couldn’t sleep that night. Who could blame me? I was so scared that I’d never wake up again. Despite my chaotic state, my room stayed the same. The colorful corkboard that had pictures of me, my friends, and my family sat on top of the desk, next to the cabinetry. The bookshelf that was overflowing with my favorite novels stood perched near the bed. Even the ocean colored paint of the walls gave no indication that its owner was currently dying.

I stayed on the bed, unmoving, barely able to hold my feelings in. What would happen to me? I’m going to miss a lot of things when I’m gone. Heck, I just turned 18 and have my whole life ahead of me. I haven’t even been kissed yet nor had a proper relationship, and now I was going to die a virgin, my mind cajoled. Life was so unfair, why couldn’t terrorists or bombers around the world suffer instead? I punched my pillow hard. Damn! I couldn’t even cry because I was so numb with fear.

The wind blew hard, making the curtain by the window flutter. I thought I closed that one earlier. I was about to burrow my head under the sheets when something silver caught my attention. Thinking it was my imagination playing tricks on me, I dismissed it and saw a spark of silver again next to the window. I squinted hard, trying to see past the darkness.

“Is someone there?” I said out loud, trying to sound confident despite my jumbled nerves. I waited. “Look, if you’re here to rob us, I can’t promise that I won’t fight,” I said again.

There was no answer.

Oh, boy this is so my lucky day. First they told me I was dying, and now someone was trying to rob us. Give me a break!

“I have nothing to lose. I’m coming after you.” I stood up from the bed, grabbed the baseball bat that I always kept near for emergency, and slowly made my way towards the source of the spark. Walking as quietly as possible so as not to frighten the robber, I was prepared to defend my family to death. At least I could die with honor. When I reached my destination, I swung my bat menacingly, only to hit nothing but air.

“I never took you for a fighter,” a mesmerizing voice whispered in my ear.

I stopped dead in my tracks and quickly scanned the room. My knees shook in fear. I could feel small beads of sweat forming on my forehead. From the corner of my eye, I saw someone moved on the bed. How did he get there so fast? Blood rushed to my face.

“Did I scare you?” A woman’s voice said.

“Show yourself,” I tried to say confidently, but my voice shook a little, revealing my fear.

A whisper, “Come closer.”

I hesitated, not knowing what would happen, but inched towards the voice slowly because of curiosity and a touch of stupidity, until she came in full view. I just gaped and stopped, the baseball bat falling from my hands in a soft thud. I didn’t know exactly how to describe her.

She looked about my age. Her slender body was poised gracefully on the edge of the bed, as if she always belonged there. She had jet black hair that flowed past her feminine shoulder. Her pale skin seemed to be glowing, yet no spotlight was pointed at her. Her lips were positioned in a half smile-as if inviting me, not to mention her lashes were long and thick. But what made me entranced was not her perfect beauty, but her electric blue eyes that seemed to radiate with a twinge of silver. Was that even possible? Clearly, she wasn’t human. But what was she, and why was she here?

And then she spoke. “My name is Emiri, and I am a vampire.” She smiled widely, her fangs glistening in the dark.