Her face crashes. She hasn't dealt with a single transfusion or lumbar puncture. She wasn't allowed near me for the bone-marrow transplant, but she could have been there for any number of diagnoses, and wasn't. Even her promises to visit more often have faded away with Christmas. It's her turn to taste some reality.
Jenny DownhamDeath straps me to the hospital bed, claws its way onto my chest and sits there.I didn't know it would hurt this much. I didn't know that everything good that's ever happened in my life would be emptied out by it.
Jenny DownhamSometimes if you want something badly enough, you can make it happen. If you miss someone so desperately that it wrecks your insides, you say their name over and over until you conjure then. It's called sympathetic magic and you just have to believe in it to make it work.
Jenny DownhamThat slow smile again. I love that smile! DId I think he was ugly just now? No, his face is transformed.
Jenny DownhamHow late is it? How long have we been sitting here? I look at my watch โ three thirty and the day is almost ending. Itโs October. All those kids recently returned to classrooms with new bags and pencil cases will be looking forward to half term already. How quickly it goes. Halloween soon, then firework night. Christmas. Spring. Easter. Then thereโs my birthday in May. Iโll be seventeen. How long can I stave it off? I donโt know. All I know is that I have two choices โ stay wrapped in blankets and get on with dying, or get the list back together and get on with living.
Jenny Downham