Live a Little
Live a Little fiction stories

anniecygan Come read and give feedback! Thanks!
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
"Abigail! Come down here right now!" My mother yelled from the kitchen. She always had a knack for yelling at me. That's what I miss the most about her. "You know, you could be a bit more appreciative of me since I am the only one that can see you." I snapped back sarcastically.

Live a Little

"Abigail! Come down here right now!" My mother yelled from the kitchen. She always had a knack for yelling at me. That's what I miss the most about her.

"You know, you could be a bit more appreciative of me since I am the only one that can see you." I snapped back sarcastically.

I sat in the chair across from the stove where she was cooking my favorite meal. God, I missed the smell of her cooking.

"Did you take your medicine, Abigail?" She always asked so many questions.

Abigail, did you take your 7 pills that you were prescribed? The radiation will kill you before you even have the chance.

She knew what the answer was, but I don't think she wanted to admit it. Believing that I was okay and better from the chemo helped ease her mind.

We both knew that I wasn't going to last forever and then suddenly she'd have no one to cook breakfast for. She was lonely and I was all she had.

"Do you ever wonder why I can see you yet no one else can, mom?" She hated when I asked her that question, but it seemed to be needed.

"Why don't you just take your pills and stop asking questions you already know the answer to? Seems like a productive action instead of questioning your mother." She snapped back at me.

I sat there and ate the bacon and eggs she made me. No one could cook like her. She had this way of making the illness not seem as bad.

My hair had fallen out from the radiation, but it was slowly growing back. You would've thought I was crazy because I didn't try to hide it.

I wanted everyone to see what cancer does to you physically. If I could show what it does to the mind I think people would start offing themselves.

It takes control of every part of your brain and senses.

I couldn't become happy even if I tried, who would be happy having to plan their own funeral?

I picked out the flowers to be buried in when they thought I wouldn't go into remission, but somehow it all stopped. The chemo started working just fine and I didn't have to keep planning.

I could sit back and relax and take my 7 different pills to make sure I didn't go back.

Having cancer wasn't good for my social life either. I had met people just like me and then I had to attend their funerals. If I did have any friends from before they were gone now.

After they realized that I wasn't on a time restriction they stopped hanging out with me, pity was such a powerful thing.

Don't even get me started on having a boyfriend, those men would walk by me and give me the saddest expression because they felt bad.

I'm pretty sure half of the men that I went on dates with just did it because they wanted to give me the "best date of my life." That was all true until I met him.

He didn't see me for the cancer, he loved me. I met him through one of my friends when they all thought I needed a partner to make suffer with my incredibly bad humor and lack of organization.

I didn't see a reason in meeting him, who would want to meet someone that they could potentially fall in love with when you knew what would happen in under a year?

I still gave it a shot nonetheless.

"Will you stop daydreaming about him? Doesn't he know what's coming? Or is he just stupid?" My mother snapped me out of my fantasy.

"Just because it happened to you, doesn't mean that it'll happen to me. You only recently started visiting me so you know nothing about him or us." I've been snippy with her lately.

She slammed her fork down from across the table, "Dammit, Abigail, go to your room. Whether I am here physically or not I am still your mother so do what I say."

I looked at her with an angry expression, my brows furrowed and eyes squinted, "I am 26 years old with a life to live before it all gets taken away.

Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to get ready to meet him for lunch today."

I dressed in my best fall colors with a hint of maroon and brown making an appearance.

I put on my best brown boots, made sure my bald head looked as shiny as ever, touched up my makeup, then I was out the door.

I always enjoyed driving and listening to music that I could pretend I was in a movie to. It was my special time to sit and think about what I was doing with my short life.

I pulled up to the cafe in what seemed like two minutes versus twenty.

God, he looked so good with his brown hair gelled up and stylish clothes. I gave him a small smile, "Well, hello stranger. Fancy seeing you here per usual."

Shit. He's smiling and I'm falling for him all over again, "Ah, babe! What a beautiful attire and your hair is so long and flowy, much more than before.

Go pick us a spot and I'll get your usual." He kissed the top of my head, as if he couldn't miss it.

He walked over with our soups and sat across from me, "So, Noah, tell me something," he looked up from his spoonful of tomato soup,

"who gave you those brown eyes and said you could look at me the way you do?"

He looked relieved, "Well, my genetics from my mother blessed me and I believe that the way you look at me gives me the impression that you want me to look at you that way, am I correct, Abigail?


I smiled and rolled my eyes at his stupid, cute, and flawless way of speaking, "You're ridiculous," I looked past Noah to see my mother in the corner watching us intently, "I will be right back,

okay? My stomach is a bit upset from breakfast." I motioned for my mother to meet me in the bathroom.

She and I stood in silence looking at each other with disappointed expressions for one another, "Abigail, you know how I feel about you leading him on. This isn't right and healthy for him."

"Jesus Christ, mother, will you ever let me live a little? He loves me for the time being and I am completely fine with knowing that I won't be able to see him forever.

Just let me be happy with him. I already look crazy enough basically talking to myself in a public bathroom.

" I looked around to meet eyes with one woman who looked at me with shock until I noticed her cross necklace around her neck.

Oh great another person who probably thinks I am either crazy or possessed.

"Look, Abigail, how do you expect to live a little when you know that seeing me is not a good sign for you?" She gave me a worried look.

I looked down, shifting my eyes every which way, "What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine. I'm just not taking my medication anymore. I'm done having this discussion.

I'm going to go back out there and have lunch with my boyfriend and there's nothing you can say that can stop me."

"You won't like what you see out there, Abigail." She warned me.

I rolled my eyes and walked out of the bathroom. Oh my god. Everyone is dark, boney, and looking at me. Shit. I look around at all the skeletons looking at me walk towards Noah.

I politely try to smile at them, but I suppose the horrified look on my face gives it away that I am terrified.

I find Noah sitting in the same place and position staring straight ahead as if he's looking past me and not at me.

"Noah? Babe? Are you okay? What are you staring at?" I wave my hand in front of his face. He continues to smile, but every passing second makes it more demonic.

"See? I told you you wouldn't like what you see." My mother walked out from the bathroom.

I look at her casually walk towards me until she's right in front of me, "What the hell is going on? Why is everyone dead? What happened to Noah?

He was just fine a minute ago and now he's becoming, I don't even know what he's becoming. Please make this stop. I'm so scared." Tears start to enter the brim of my eyes.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," my mother takes my head in her hands and puts my head on her chest, "this happens to everyone in life. We all die and sometimes your time comes before everyone else's."

I pulled away from her chest and look her in the eyes, "Are you saying that I'm dying, but for real this time? Why me? I still have so much to do, I'm not ready."

"Why do you think you recently started seeing me? Because you're healthy? You stopped taking your meds, Abigail. You started dying once you stopped.

This is what happens when you don't take care of yourself. You die." She motioned to the people around me.

I saw her point. I stopped taking my medication because I didn't see a point in it. What was the purpose of taking medicine that kept me here, but made me feel nothing on the inside?

"Abigail. Listen to us. We are going to make sure you are okay." What the hell was that? Who's talking? I look around and don't notice anyone's mouth moving, my mother included.

"Let's get her to trauma and start administering fluids." Am I-Am I in a hospital? How the hell did I get here? What is this tube in my throat? Ouch shit that hurts.

Oh wait that's the good stuff. I missed the drugs.

I opened my eyes to find myself in a hospital bed surrounded by my friends and family. I grunted a bit because my throat was still sore from the tubing.

Noah sat by my side and held my hand with a loving smile. I yawned a bit to let everyone know subtly that I was extremely tired.

One by one everyone gave me a hug and quickly left except for Noah.

"Well, good morning, gorgeous.

You decided to faint on us today at the cafe while you went to the bathroom, do you remember that?

The lady said you were talking to yourself and then you looked at her and just fell to the ground." Noah chuckled a bit.

"I was talking to my, uh, myself like usual, you know? I guess I didn't think that not taking my medication would lead to all that mess. I'm sorry if it scared you.

" I looked at his big brown eyes squint into a smile as he kissed my hand.

"I'm just happy that you're okay, baby. Oh and someone dropped this note off, but there's no name on it besides yours." Noah handed me the small note.

I opened it to find the phrase:

Take your meds. Live a little.


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