Ella—faultless, perfect, can-do-no-wrong Ella.
The Ella I spent the first few years of my life hating because I thought she was always looking down her nose at me. Because our parents made me clean up after her and take the blame for things she did, even if she owned up to them.
It’s like she’s throwing it in my face and making me pay for something she’s done, when I’m just trying to help her.
Doesn’t she fucking realize that these pills are the only reason she’s still alive? She’s the only family I have, and I’ll be damned if I let cancer take her from me.
“Ella!” I storm across the apartment and throw open her bedroom door without knocking.
I can’t bring myself to care that she was fast asleep when I hit the lights. She jolts, rubbing her eyes as she tries to push herself up onto her elbow.
“Sable?” My name comes out as a cracked whisper.
My rampage stalls when I take in the dark blue hollows under her eyes and the gaunt curve of her cheeks—an unnatural contrast to her puffy eyes, which are creased like she’s in pain. There’s almost a yellowish tinge to her face and scalp that must be coming from the light.
Seeing her so… corpse-like only renews the flames blazing within me. She looks worse, and only one reason comes to mind.
What’s the bet she’s slowly started looking like this since Wednesday? I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t seen her in days. She’s always been sleeping whenever I’ve checked in.
“Explain this,” I sneer, holding up the pill container.
It takes her a while to react, and when she finally answers, her voice is groggy. “I’m making the medication last longer.”
“Excuse me?”
She pulled this shit years ago when she wasn’t that sick. Ella argued it was to save money, but ultimately, the conversation ended with her taking it and apologizing for freaking me out.
“They aren’t helping anyway.” She shrugs, leaning back against the pillows like she’s already made up her mind.
“Aren’t—” I run my hand down my face and try to take a deep breath. I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.
Ella is the only thing I have, and the only thing in this world that gives me meaning. And to have her just… give up and die without telling me? To let me keep working myself to the bone while she suffers in silence? Did she ever intend on telling me her plan, or was she just hoping I’d come home to find her dead?
I know I should be sad and brokenhearted and approaching this with a lighter touch, but all I feel is rage.
“I just worked my third sixteen-hour shift this week. So I’m going to ask you again to explain why it looks like you haven’t taken your medication in four days.”
She sighs, watching me with eyes full of guilt and pity.
Pity? Shepitiesme? After—after everything I’ve been through? Thatwe’vebeen through? My hands curl at my sides.
“You can’t force me to take medication, Sable.”
Wrong answer.
I just blow.
“Then what the fuck was the point of this shit?” I yell, throwing the pill container onto her bed. “God, why are you always so fucking selfish? What? You think you’re so perfect because our family has always put you on a golden pedestal?Well, guess what? You’re not. No one is here to blow smoke up your ass anymore.”
“Sable—”
I can’t stand the sight of her tears, but I still don’t stop. Everything is pouring out, and I can’t put the lid back on. My mouth keeps moving even though my brain isn’t in on the conversation—even though I don’t really mean any of it. I’m just angry and bitter and need an outlet.
“You’re a spoiled brat who thinks you can do whatever the fuck you want without any repercussions. But you know what? Maybe if you were dead, I wouldn’t be fucking killing myself anymore.”
I hear her sob, but I don’t see it. I storm back to the kitchen and pull out the medication drawer, returning to Ella’s room and dumping the entire contents onto the bed. Pill bottles roll onto the floor, and the strips crinkle as they hit the duvet.
My heart is bleeding. I know it is. Just like I can feel Ella’s heart bleeding too—see it as if crimson is oozing through the thick material of her favorite sweater.
